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shinobirain24 · 3 years

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Iceberg Week 2021- Day 2 (July 7)- Romeo and Juliet AU Pt. 2

@iceberg-week

Warning: this fanfic might contain suicide, blood ,and death like in the original Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet

Just after Jupiter has knocked off Neptune before they fought over the conflict. Winter readies herself for anything as Neptune rose up to see them both aiming at each other. "Jupiter that's enough!" Yelled Neptune. This is a never ending war between the Schnee and the Vasilias as the ancient grudge continues. Turns out Jupiter is letting his pride get the best of him and doesn't know when to swallow it at ease.

"Give it up, be happy I am putting an end to my father's schemes!" Demanded Winter, setting her sights on the oldest son of the police captain. "Once a Schnee, always a Schnee. That name will forever be the tag on your own back." Jupiter remarks coldly.

"I only did all of this to not let my sister face this anymore." Winter reasoned. But the gunfire still continues. Her blood, her name will always be the tag in history. Her family will always be public enemy #1. Even so, Winter wants to make sure that the oblivion of peace will come to an end with her father either dead or arrested. Either way, she will be satisfied if the mafia went down for good.

She was supposed to be an ally to the police as an informant, but in Jupiter's case, he never trust her, and never will. Again, he wasn't sure how his father tolerated her when she gave him the information she has. "Your services are no longer required." Jupiter said.

"You can't keep up with your pride forever. But you led me no choice." Said Winter. Then just as they were about to fire for the final shot. Sun got in the way to not let the both of them kill each other, but at the cost of his life. Neptune stood in shock, not seeing this coming. And rushed to his side. "Dude, why?" He quivered as Sun has chuckled a bit, but then frown. "How long has this been going? You were right, this fight has gone too far. Really sucks, am I right?" Sun took his last breathe. Neptune teared up to see his best friend in blood.

Winter stood shock to see that her bullet and Jupiter's bullet. Pierced onto Sun's chest, now pooled in blood. As Neptune's tears have slid from his eyes. But decides not to hold a grudge towards Winter, for Weiss' sake, since she loves her sister. "I didn't mean to...I'm..." But she was cut off, with Jupiter, filled with rage shot Winter in the abdomen. Now it was her turn to be covered in blood. Even if she wants nothing to do with her father, Winter will always tagged as a traitor to society.

As Neptune rose his head to see what was happening, he was shocked. He then narrowed his eyes while still kneeling at Sun's side. Neptune hates these wars that involve his family, but knew there was no escape.

"Jupiter, what did you do?! She apologized, and inform Dad of the situation, and this is the thanks she is getting?! How long are you going to hold this?! Do you have any idea what you've been doing?!" Jupiter did not replied and stood in silence and at shame to look at his brother. All this time he was protecting him too much. "I did it all for you, I did not want you to get involve in this. I'm sorry, I'll just turn myself in." Jupiter suggested.

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After the arrest of Jupiter, Weiss is shocked to hear the news from her butler for what happened to her sister. She loves Neptune, but could she even forgive his brother for what he did? Conflicted with questions, Weiss took the time to process before she can speak to him on the phone. "I am sorry, Miss Schnee. Your sister has meant a lot to you. I blame your father for this mess to continue." Said Klein as he comforted Weiss. He was like a fatherly figure than her own father.

"I know, must this war continue. This is never ending."

"Perhaps you should talk to the boy you've been texting, see what you can do to get some closure. At least his older brother turned himself in." Klein suggested. He knew about the relationship with his employer's daughter and the cop's son. "I suppose. I just need some time first. Thank you very much, Klein."

Klein nods and Weiss requested for some alone time. She then tugged on a pillow as a comfort. Then she received a text she never thought she would hear from.

The text said to meet her at the beach. The beach, full of sand and waves running on shore. "I knew you'd be there. How are you feeling?" Asked Neptune standing in front of her Weiss was at a loss for words. Although she was forbidden to see him, but she would have to maintain some closure. "I'm sorry, I couldn't stop him. My brother...he-" Weiss stopped him as she was looked at him. "I know, like I said, there as no end to this. I'm glad you're okay. Winter had been there for me for so long. She was the only family I can count on. But also..." Weiss immediately walked over to Neptune and holds his hands. And pressed her forehead against his. Tears have streamed from their eyes.

"I too, am sorry for your friend. Has he been there for you?" Asked Weiss, coming to the understanding how this war had led them. "Sun is like a brother. Wish I can undo for what happened. But guess there was nothing we can do." Neptune then caressed her cheek. Both looked at their rings for their promises of their own future together. Even if their families cannot accept them being together, nothing will stop them from fighting. Let's escape together." Weiss said. Neptune looked at her in surprise.

"Are you sure about this? When?" Asked Neptune, not wanting to get her in trouble if she sneaks out. "I can't take anything in this life anymore. If Father cannot accept us, the so be it. Once we're 18, we get married." Weiss said.

"Okay, that's unexpected. But wow, really mojo of you, but cool." Weiss then kissed him on the cheek. "I already packed my bag. Tonight we leave." Weiss said as they walked over to the dock to find a speedboat nearby and Weiss holds a bag. But Neptune, being a gentleman type, takes the bag and holds it for her. Making Weiss blush. Then sped off in a speed boat.

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They are in Florida where they enjoyed their final night in the beach. On a sheet on the sand. Gazing on the stars while wondering what their future would be like. "Are there possibilities to see the world above space?" Asked Weiss.

"World is always filled of mysteries. Seeing something looked so small, like those stars are not what they seemed to be." Said Neptune. Their eyes were focused on the stars as Weiss caressed his hair. Much to the joy of one another. "Interesting. It always cleared my mind just looking at them. Here we are, outside of New York, outside of my island. It feels so great to be out again.

"Tell me about it." Then a bunch of shooting stars came falling across the sky, and bling at the dark night colors. "It is said to be the guide for the souls who're having trouble to find peace. Rather called the Infinite and Unbound. It is said to be beautiful, it's paradise, call it a myth or whatever, but it was interesting to read these myths." Neptune said.

"I read about those too. At least that's what my sister read to me when I was little." Neptune then got a text from his father to ask where he is. But he then asked how Winter was. But then Saturn text him back to tell him that she was recovering, as for his brother, he turned himself in. The trial has yet to be decided. Neptune still cannot forgive himself for what happened to Sun. Not all people are lucky to survive the wars.

"Say, what do you think might be in store for us. You know, after we turn 18?" Neptune asked, Weiss then pursed her lips as she began to ran her mind a bit. "Can't say. But I would like to think about it. Maybe if we do go to university, we might get the jobs we wanted. But I am not sure if that's happening any time soon. Considering if our parents tried to find out first."

"Fair point. You know what I am thinking? If things did not go as planned. Then you and me, we can make the most of it. It's wrong of me to leave my family, but I hope they can find it in their hearts to understand."

"I wish my family will understand too." Weiss said as she slipped her hand onto his while still laying back to watch the stars.

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Neptune then wakes up on a bed in the beach house, only to find Weiss, who was last seen next to him, missing. Then only thing left is a note. He picks it up and reads it as he was shocked, worried.

"I'm sorry that you noticed me gone, Neptune. I left to confront my father to defy him. The sooner I resolve these conflicts. The sooner I turned him to your father, then we will be together and no one will stand in our way. I love you, don't come after me just yet. I don't want to put you in danger, chances are, my father might come after you."

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Weiss returns to the place she calls home. Her mother, Willow then ran up to her and hugged him. "Weiss, darling! Your father and I thought you were kidnapped! Ever since your sister has been shot!" Weiss hugs her back, at least her mother has a bit of emotion when it comes to her children.

"Where have you've been, young lady? Ugh-never mind." Jacques then cuts her off before she can even speak. "Ever since your sister has been hospitalized, we have decided that we cannot go like this alone, Weiss. As of today, you will be married to the heir to the Marigolds." Jacques announced.

Weiss knew he will never ask how she feels, or if she wants this marriage to go on. She knew this is not a natural kind of thing. It was only his mind that blinded him. "I refused." Weiss rebuffed.

"What?" Jacques though, outloud, raising a brow for which he thought. He was about to hear for what will tick him off. "Say that again to me daughter? What happened to you, daughter. You have been in my favor without question." Weiss knew he cannot let him take her dreams away. Her will has been proven too strong since the party.

"Weiss, what has gotten into you? You haven't been yourself since the auction." Questioned Willow. Being stuck in a private island and held for future plans by family members wasn't normal for her and her and her sister knew that. "Let me make this clear, Father. I will not marry whoever you choose for me, I already have goals in my mind. Do you even care to ask for what I want or what I needed? No, you just brushed it off and cared about merging illegal empires."

"I did it for the family line, Weiss." Said Jacques. But Weiss wasn't having it. Rubbing his mustache, Jacques kept listening, testing his daughter's limits. "You were born to be loyal and to keep the family in a raise to keep from police." He pointed a finger slightly.

But Weiss turned her head in a fit of defiance. While her father kept pacing around as she tested his patience. What comes next is something she never thought was coming. "Loyal? Why am I even born you're daughter? Why bother being away for some time while I was only stuck on the island? Last I heard talking to my mother, you told her you never wanted to do with me. But to use me for merging with another mafia. Do you think I wanted this? Think again, I am young, but I am not a child. Winter was right you know. I cannot throw my plans away when you kept running the illegal business. You should be arrested a long time ago."

Jacques then struck Weiss on the cheek. She fell on the carpet. What she feels is nothing but a sting and a shock. She touched her own cheek, trying to process for what has happened. She now knew the kind of person her father was, a tyrant who wants nothing more than to win. As she was afraid she will see from the very beginning. The only times her mother has given her attention was when she was given a day-off from cartel businesses.

Her mother stood shock too, but turn away to avoid conflict. She wanted to defend Weiss, but she doesn't know what to do or what she should've done. But the way how the family was run, it was too much for her to bare. It struck her like lightning to react like this. Seeing her husband snapped, it scares her. In Willow's case, a freeze response.

In front of Weiss, a broken vase that was knocked over. "I thought I raised you to become a more ideal woman like your mother." Weiss then stared at her father in a glare. "Do not speak to her like that, she is standing there!" She defended. "For the record, you did not raised me, Klein did." Weiss said, referring to the servant who she did not see as a servant, but a family she never have before. "You're no father of mine, not one visit, not one call. None. You only have me to be the object to your problems."

"Disobedience is a family's disgrace, either you go with the plans next week, or face the consequences." Her father threatened, that is when he left the office. "I already fired him the night he helped you sneak off in the night with a commoner, know your place, young lady." He finally made his final say before closing the door. Weiss could still feel the shock, the thought of her father selling her out for personal gain.

Just as her father left the office, Willow just stood there in shock. But also turned away, thinking she has failed as a wife and a mother. Weiss then took her hand in desperation. "Is there any way to delay this marriage? A month, half a year?" Weiss pleaded, but Willow snatched back her hand and turned away as well. "Talk to me not, for I will not speak a word. Do what you wilt." With that said., Willow left in a different direction, leaving Weiss alone, in despair.

Her sister, who she thought was gone, Klein, being fired for the attempted escape. Now, she had no one, and her brother, wanting nothing to do with his sister's antics, it's safe to say that he was brainwashed as well.

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The next day, Weiss went to Lie Ren, the son of the Museum Curator whose interest is ancient artifacts. To which Weiss feels resourceful at times. She only met her when there were conferences of artifacts being sold to his father. Even some that are fake.

"Miss Schnee, how can I help you?" Asked Ren. Of whom most would called him. "Hi, Ren. I need your help." Weiss said. Ren then stood from his desk. "Name it." Weiss knew she have to think of a plan to escape her arranged marriage to finally be with the man of her choosing, and never again be an object in her father's image.

"I need an artifact that can help fake my death. I knew my father has sold your father something that puts anyone in a trance." Weiss said. Ren never thought that a friend would ask for something like that. "Why is that?" He asked. Weiss knew she had to come clean to him, but concerns about whether or not she could trust him. "I have this boyfriend who I wanted to live with for the rest of my life. And my father has some nerve to deprive me of my own freedom. That guy, he isn't rich but he is sweet, treated me well when no one else did."

"As much as I wish to help you, I can't. I can't get my father into trouble." Ren refuses, knowing what might happened if his father noticed an artifact missing in sight. It would alarm a robbery. But Weiss is too desperate. Feeling no way out but this. "You don't understand, next week my father will cause more havoc if this wedding proceeds." Weiss pleaded once more.

"I am sorry, but if I do this, your family will kill us. They might as well cut off their financial support of this museum." Ren explains. But Weiss wasn't having it. And sees a pocket knife in his pocket and snatches it from him. Ren turned in shock to see this coming. He tried to retrieve it, but Weiss ran off fast and then stopped to look at him. Pointing the knife at her abdomen. "I understand your tactics of what might happened. But you can't just turn you back now."

"Weiss, what are you doing? Put the knife down!" Ren pleaded while swinging his palms to try to get the knife back, meant for self-defense. But it is also decorative. "Please, Ren. I need to escape this. You know how wrong my father is. I cannot live like this. Just do me this favor before I...I..." Weiss hopes it will just scare him to gain the opportunity.

But then regrets scaring him like that, thinking, or rather knew how wrong she was to frighten him like that. She then lower the knife and dropped her head in shame. "Sorry, shouldn't have scared you like that. I guess doing this isn't going to help anyway. I'll see you back at school." Weiss said before giving back Ren the knife. "Wait." Ren called back. Weiss looked back. Ren took some time to think.

"I think I have an idea. But you're not going to like it." Said Ren. Weiss did not care is this is going to get serious, but it was her only solution, at least in her mind. Then leads her to a sacred treasure room in the Chinese Exhibit. Their weapons and manuscripts are rare. Ren then looks over the desk and takes out a dagger inside, and it was black, like the color of charcoal.

Carved with the glowing, green dragon on the dagger. "This dagger. In ancient times can put you in a trance with one stab, two or more will lead to death itself. So here's the deal, pretend you're accepting the proposal. Once you reconcile with your family, mainly your mother. Find the private time to take a moment and you'll be in a death-like state with one stab of this dagger. In about 48 hours, you'll be able to wake up and be able to escape this place. Then afterwards, change your identity, your name and appearance." Ren suggested.

"Is there anyway to let Neptune know about this? I don't want him to think I am dead. It will put him in despair." Weiss said, worried about the consequences of the matters she felt the need to take into her own hands. "Do you have his number? I can contact him to let him know."

"And I thought the artifacts were fake."

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Back at the Private Island of Schnee. Willow is just standing next to the large glass window, holding a glass of wine upfront. "Are you sure about the process, dear?" Asked Willow. Jacques, sitting on his desk, writing the documents for the wedding is waiting after letting his frustrations out.

"She will have thought for what was good and what was not. She can't resist the honor forever." Jacques remarks. Then Weiss knocks the door. "Come in." Weiss then enters, calmly, knowing the plan will process. "Father, I am starting to have thoughts. I knew we don't have a good connection. But it was foolish of me to disobey you. I want to make amends and do what must be done to help the family."

Jacques did seemed to be convince. He thought carefully and Willow looked a bit surprised. "Darling, what are you saying?" She asked. Stunned at the sudden acceptance, what comes next will be unexpected. "It's true mother, merging empires should be the solutions for the combinations of our bankruptcy. Including more recruits for more men to add to Father's cartel."

"Wonderful, the wedding shall proceed. With your help, Weiss, you will be worthy of the Schnee empire." Jacques then places his hand on her shoulder, and not in a prod way, but in a relief kind of way. Weiss put up with fake smile to not cause a scene.

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Later, Weiss tried on a dress she finds uncomfortable, but pretend to like it. "Wonderful, you look stunning, Weiss." Willow praised as she examined the dress Weiss is trying on. "I know, Can't wait."

The maids then bowed their heads, and left the room. "I guess this is about time you and your father opened up after the scene. But I am glad everything worked out." Willow said. Weiss however, was not pleased, but kept up with the appearance of the joyful bride.

The sooner she left, the sooner it will be over to go over her own plan for escape, even if it means either to wake up alone, or to Neptune's eyes. "I need to get some rest, all these preparations are a bit exhausting." Weiss yawned.

"Very well, darling. I'll see you tomorrow." Willow said. "I know you won't let us down." Leaving the bedroom. Weiss then turned to the window and takes out the ancient dagger. Weiss is having second thoughts. Not sure if she wants this.

"At last, my only chance of escape. But something deep down, it didn't feel right. Still, if I don't do this, I will be stuck with someone who is snobby, arrogant and low of life as Henry Marigold. But on the other hand, I don't want to break Mother's heart. She has already been here long enough to be in some trance. One stab, and I might be unconscious, but alive. What is this, my sister's ghost speaking to me? Or am I hearing things. Nevertheless, I have to take this chance. This way, we'll be free." Weiss then prepares for the impossible, holding the dagger upfront.

"This is for you, Neptune." Weiss said, then impaled herself with the ancient dagger. Her heart, slowing down. Blood spilling as the dagger. Then fell on the bed as she closed her eye. "This...will...work..." She sighed as she finally rendered unconscious.

Whitley, Weiss' younger brother has awakened and entered his sister's room. "Dearest sister, time to get up." Whitely tried to call form the doorstep. Then felt annoyed to not hear a sound. "Sister? Okay, I hear a come in." He then entered the room, thinking his sister is asleep. "Sister, we have more preparations to start. You can't sleep all day." Whitley called again, still no response, then felt something is wrong.

"Sister?" Asked Whitely, as he noticed the red spilt, which he thought was paint. "Um, sister, have you been using some paint again?" Asked Whitely, and shakes her to wake her up, but no avail. "Sister, please wake up." Whitley pleaded and then noticed a pulse is not working. Which shocks him to find a dagger in her room. "Uh....Mother?!" Willow then ran to her son's calling. "What is it, Whitley? I have..."

Willow gasped to see what appeared to be blood. And it led to Weiss' abdomen. Frozen she also tried to get some medic she hired to revive her, but to also no avail. "Oh, darling, wake up! What happened?! Say something!" Willow pleaded.

"Mother, you don't think this is a murder, is it?" Whitely asked. Thinking it was a murder scene. Jacques then came with Henry, a suitor who was chosen by him for Weiss. "What in the world is going on? A night ago, I was pleased to hear the acceptance for a proposal, the next I have to hear all the screaming to find my daughter stained in blood?"

"I cannot believe this, I came all this way to marry a dead girl?" Henry said, frustrated. Annoyed for the turn of events, Henry then scowled at Jacques. "Forgive me, Mr. Marigold. We have no idea that this would happen. Now it would seem that death has taken her as his bride, death is now my son-in-law." Jacques shivered.

"Well, I never. Deals off, Schnee. I got to go, good day." Henry left, no remorse, no pay for respects for Weiss. While Willow is left to wallow in despair to see her daughter, "dead."

"Father, this has to be the work of the Vasilias..." Whitley is cut off when Jacques became in denial. "Shut your mouth, Whitley! Enough with that name!" Whitley then backed down, frightened by the tone of his father's voice. ""Y-yes, Father." He stammered. "Still, I felt sorry for her." He says in remorse, he hasn't seen his sisters too much, but felt sorry that he didn't spent much time with them. "My empire, my future, dead." Jacques said, not in concern for his daughter's feelings and death.

"This wedding, it is now a funeral. At least give her honor to celebrate." Willow suggested.

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Neptune then returned to New York to visit his brother in prison. Calling from the glass separating the brothers. "Sorry about everything. I hope you are doing well." Jupiter apologizes, not just the mess he created in the bridge, but for the death of his brother's best friend.

"How are you?" Asked Neptune, hoping his brother was treated well. "It's not so bad, met a couple of buddies I met since high school."

"I know, can I ask you something?" Neptune asked. Jupiter nods. Quietly listens. "Have you made mistakes for the life you wanted?" Jupiter kinda knew what he was talking about. "I kinda thought of that for a while. But before, I never thought about what I wanted."

"I guess thinking about what we want isn't easy." Neptune said.

"It never has been. But, that doesn't mean we take things a bit smaller first. If we rush, it would be a tiresome." Jupiter advises. "Dad had been angry with me that our only informant was gone. I guess that woman never got what she wanted living under the House of Schnee."

"I figured, all these conflicts, affected her sister too badly. Dad spent his life fighting for our lives, yet we didn't rest so much." Neptune said.

"That reminds me, the Schnee's sister. I just got word this morning." Neptune then raised an eyebrow. It got him confused. "What about Weiss?" Neptune asked. "Is something wrong? Is she okay?" Neptune asked. Jupiter cannot find the right words to put him down gently.

He wasn't sure if he should be fully honest. But he has to know the truth. Even if the truth hurts. "The girl...the news announced today that she is deceased." Neptune felt the arrow shot in his heart. Hoping he was just hearing things. "Dead...? That can't be right..."

Jupiter shook his head and takes out a newspaper with a photograph of Weiss in front page. The title: "Daughter of the Mafia, stabbed to Death by an unknown individual." Neptune then became stunned.

"I'm sorry bro..." Jupiter apologized again. But Neptune refuses to believe it. "No, I don't believe it. She was alive the last time I saw her."

"No, I am not joking. Something must've happened to her. I am sorry, but the facts were true." Jupiter then sees the picture and showed it to him the last time. Neptune then runs out of the prison in tears. Ignoring Jupiter's plead before being back into his cell.

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Neptune then arrived in a speedboat as Ren was too late to tell him that Weiss wasn't actually dead. "Wait!" Ren called, and then tried to call him, but a crowed rushed over him and this caused him to drop his phone into the sea. "No, my phone!" Ren yelled.

Now how is he going to tell Neptune about the plan? He decided to take the plane instead before it was too late.

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Neptune then manages to sneak into the Tombstone of Schnee on the island. Here all the Schnees have a ceremonial burial. Not being inside a casket, but being laid in the most beautiful ways of possible. Winter was the first to bled to death, but her body wasn't found here. "Winter's body wasn't here, but I hope, someday, you can forgive me for not stopping my brother." Neptune said to himself, with remorse of how much he regret for not stopping these feuds.

He then sees Weiss, laying on a stone, wearing a dark-blue dress, filled with diamond cuts. Her eyes closed, being underneath a golden-clear veil covering her body. Neptune stood shock to see her like this, alone, no one to embrace. He then undo the veil. Caressing her cheek, it was cold, not a single pulse in her. "Weiss, how did I fail you? Why must it be you to die? I wish it were me and not you. But now, all I can do now, is hold you in my arms."

Neptune then teared up, as he hold her for the last time. Pressing his cheek against hers. "Forgive me, for not being able to get you out of this cruel world. For me, I will gladly follow you in dawn." Neptune then rose up and uses a poison he bought from another cartel. Meant for lethal injection, enough to stop his heart. Willing to be with her forever.

"This is wrong, but to the afterlife, I will gladly go with you." Neptune then takes the poison into his mouth, and swallowed it, as tears streamed into his eyes. This is what feud has led them. This is how love has led them. Leaving behind his father, mother and brother. Then Neptune's last moment. He pressed his lips onto Weiss', kissing her for the last time. Weiss then fluttered her eyes opened. She has finally saw him in her awakening, the effects of the dagger, wore off. Just as she dreamed of.

"Neptune." Weiss whispered. Failing to notice the poison he was swallowing. Neptune was then surprised to see her awake. Overjoyed, they kissed again. "Weiss, I thought I lost you. But seeing you again, it was worth living this nightmare." Seeing each other again, it was worth before death has taken a toll of him, his hear began to feel the pain. Weiss then holds him in her arms. "Neptune? What's wrong? Neptune?" Weiss gasped.

"I...ah...have no time....left..." Neptune gasped in labored breathes. Fighting for his life before death can reach him. "I...took this...poison...it was stupid of me...I am sorry....forgive me...but I love you...ahh!"

Weiss sat in shock as she held him. He closes his eyes while seeing her for the last time. "No, don't leave me. We are about to finally be free. Why must fates be worst than death itself? What is this, poison I see. Not one in a friendly drop, I will kiss your lips, haply some poison will come through me." Weiss then kissed him for the last time, hoping some poison will be passed onto her to join him in death. But there was none on her. But then she cried as it was not working. "No, it's not working."

"I thought I heard something." One security guard called.

"Yeah, I think we should check it out." Weiss then hears them coming. She knew if they knew she is alive, then it was over for her, it was back to the premeditated life her father had planned for her. Rather than going back to being stuck on the arranged plan, Weiss then notices the dagger that was dropped, it was the same dagger she used to fake her death. "I can't go back, not now, not ever." She then raised a dagger up and teared up as she was about to take the final step.

"Oh, happy dagger, This is my sheath, there rust and let me die." Weiss then stabbed herself with the dagger the second time. Breathing for her last moments of life, laying onto Neptune's chest as she finds comfort, taking her last breathe. "A thousand times goodbye." She whispered before closing her eyes.

Then Ren led the police, including Saturn and Jacques to the tomb. Where it was too late. "What is going on?! I reported my son missing the minute my wife called me!" Saturn cried. Then members of both families. They were all shocked to see their children dead, in cold blood. "Impossible, my daughter was dead a few hours ago!" Jacques. Saturn, enraged, glared at Jacques, thinking he did something to his son. "What did you do to them, Jacques?!"

"I do no such thing, you blue-haired fool!" Both were cut off as Klein and Winter then arrived. "Silence!" Winter yelled. Her parents were shocked to see her alive, and was declared dead. Only for her to recover. Changing from one identity to another. Klein is in despair to see a daughter figure. "Winter, you're alive? How?" Willow asked.

"Forget it. How did this happened?" Saturn asked. While weeping over his son as if it looks like his youngest found peace. "It was my fault, sirs. I gave Weiss the dagger to fake her death, I was going to message the guy to ell him what actually happened, but instead, I lost my phone and it was too late." Ren explains.

Winter, in tears seeing her sister dead, walks around in front of them. And had enough of the conflicts in the streets. "Now do you see it? See how this love have affected us all? How much this war has cost us? All of this bloodshed, we were being punished! This feud has gone far enough! And now we must set aside our differences to make sure this never happens again!" Winter shouted. Both the Schnees and Vasilias households have came to mourn for the losses this tragedy has brought to them. No love can replace them. Guilt has ran upon the remaining. Jacques, now realizing the true meaning of war. Walks over the to the Vasilias Patriarch and takes our his hand.

"Vasilias, on behalf of my daughter, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I will turn myself in. And I sincerely apologize for your son." Saturn, although not trusting the mafia leader, decides not to hold any more grudges as his son would want him to find peace. This love of the two lovers have taught him one thing, the past will always held him back. And shook his hand. "I too, am sorry for the loss of your daughter. My son has been enlightening her since the beginning. Never again will war make us lose what we love.

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Author's note. I hope anyone enjoys this fanfic for Iceberg Week 2021. Thank you for your support and be safe. And hope we get through COVID and take the moment to let our worried relax. Also, for more of my stories, follow me on Fanfiction.net, I have the same name as this Tumblr account I am using now.

#icebergweek2021 #rwby iceberg #rwby icy seas #weiss schnee x neptune vasilias #weiss x neptune #romeo and juliet au

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astranne · 3 years

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justhugefangirl’s masterlist

fanfiction recommendation masterlist

Love’s Labour Found by Peanutbuttertoast1

The War may be over, but Hermione Granger's life is just starting as her true heritage is revealed. Being the Heir to the Throne of England and a real life Princess is just the beginning of Hermione's story...but how will the Wizarding World react when they learn the Golden Girl and Gryffindor Princess is really a real life Royal?

This fanfic os one of my favourites, read it already three times- I can’t. It’s perfect, okay? For me it’s perfect.

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A Witch in Gotham by Peanutbuttertoast1

After the Second Wizarding War, a curse rips through the Magical World, leaving devastation in its wake. Hermione Granger is tasked to find the reason, and the cure before more lives are lost. Retreating into the Muggle World to start over, Hermione finds her way to Gotham City as Mia Black, Head of the Black Foundation. Her decision to help the Batman changes her life forever.

A perfect crossover- honestly, this author is perfect. As well this story. I don’t link more of the authors work but there are some other ones which are just ... perfect.

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Mischief Managed by fringeperson

A man with black hair, green eyes and pale skin watched over a child with black hair, green eyes, pale skin, and a variant of the Elder Futhark rune Sowilo etched upon his brow.

Mischief Mastered (part of story)

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Green Eyes and Red Hair by fringeperson

He was a practical joker with messy black hair. She was a talented woman with bright red hair. It turned out that they both had green eyes. Their daughter, when she came, was untouchable for more reasons than one. Loki-is-James, Natasha-is-Lily, Rogue-is-Fem!Harry.

I love the relationship between Loki and Natasha :)

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Love on Her Arm by Eye Greater Than Three

During a trip to Gringotts, Hyacinthe Potter discovered she met her soulmate, William Weasley. Bill/Hyacinthe. female!Harry.

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The Winter Witch by Kneazle

Hermione realized it began with a sense of Impending Doom and finished with a battle outside her tent. The deciding line between staying and helping Robb Stark, or returning to her universe, is getting harder to see the longer she's in Westeros. But it's a decision that she has to make, or it's one that will be made for her. Part 1 & Part 2 complete! Part 3 now ongoing.

This... is one of my favourites crossovers,,, the slowburn between Hermione and Robb,,, and it’s so fluff,,, I’m such a sucker for dark stories but this is just pureness and ugh-

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Moratorium by Darkpetal16

Harry Potter could never be the hero. But, she might make a great villain. Satire. Parody. -COMPLETE- F!Harry Fem!Harry Gray!Harry.

Uhm- this is one of the darker fics I love. It’s very good written, cause of this I really don’t mind the ship fem!Harry x Tom Riddle

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A Life Twice Lifed by Nemesis13

Draco Malfoy died at the venerable age of 107, and who awaited him at the crossroads? His mother? His wife? No, it had to be his eccentric former rival, eventual best friend, and far too often partner in chaos Harry Potter. Oh, and of course he had a deal to offer Draco to live his life anew, and obviously there was a caveat to it all that he wasn't privy to, damn Potters.Fem!Draco

Ahh, Drarry. How I love this ship

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Persephone by dulce.de.leche.go

Better to be the right hand of the devil than in his path. Better still to be the consort of Hades than a part of his collection of souls. Ten years after Voldemort has won the war, Hermione reaches a breaking point and shreds the flow of time to change her future. If she can't change the world, she will change her place in it. Extremely dark Tomione/Volmione. Warnings inside.

As already written in the summary, this fic is hella dark. So if you don’t like dark fics (especially with all the warnings mentioned in the first chapters) don’t read. I still love it tho-

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The Muddy Princess by Colubrina

Just another Pureblood!Hermione story. A hidden adoption revealed, a brother found, a new world to figure out: "What are you hoping for?" he asked as they stood ready to do the spell. "I don't know," Hermione admitted. "You?" His knuckles were white on his wand. "A sister," he said, his voice very low, "I'm hoping for a sister."

There are more stories from this author which are just- awesome and absolutly perfect, like the next ones. Since they have over 60, I won’t link every work here.

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Lady of the Lake by Colubrina

Hermione and Draco team up after the war to overthrow the Order and take over wizarding Britain. They have plans and they'll get power, but the cost of victory may be higher than they expected and more than they can bear. Dark Dramione. COMPLETE

This is perfection. Nothing more to say.

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Dark Cherry Chapstick by Colubrina

Hermione returns for an optional 8th year after the war and Draco Malfoy, also back at Hogwarts at his mother's request, notices she's changed. A brief dip into the 'makeover' trope AND the 'goth' trope in one fic. ONE SHOT. Dramione.

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The Green Girl by Colubrina

Hermione is sorted into Slytherin; how will things play out differently when the brains of the Golden Trio has different friends? AU. Darkish Dramione. COMPLETE

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The Last Peverell by animerocker 646

Being the Master of Death made life difficult, especially when you need to save all of magical Europe from inbreeding its way to extinction. At least Death was enjoying watching his Master attempt this over and over again. Harry didn't find it nearly as entertaining. Well, tenth times the charm right? (FemHarry)

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Soft, Low, English Accent by Tsume Yuki

'God, you've got a beautiful voice.' Hariel always found it funny, that of all the things her soulmate could take note of -the messy hair, the bright green eyes, the scar- it's her voice he points out first. FemHarryxMatt

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Bless the Broken Road by Tempestas D. Uzu

Her resolve crumbled in the face of Pietro Maximoff's scruffy good looks and warm blue eyes, and she found herself falling for another person who would be doomed to die for her selfishness. (One Shot)(fem!HarryXPietro)(cannon-divergent)(full warnings inside)

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The Death of Natasha Romanoff by Philosophize

While helping to stop Stane, Natasha encounters a face she never thought she'd see again. Forced to deal with memories, decisions, and a life she thought she'd long left behind, will she survive the emotional upheaval, not to mention the rampaging, homicidal Stane? Or will she have to face her fears & transform herself, becoming once again what she once was? AU; fem!Harry; femslash

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Code Of Conduct by tlyxor1

A year after the war, Gwen Potter joins SHIELD. It's a life in the shadows, and a perpetual dance with death, but for the Witch Who Won, SHIELD - and Clint Barton - is exactly what she needs. She just doesn't know it yet. AU. Clint/Gwen. Fem!Harry. Pre-MCU. Post-Hogwarts, Post OOTP. Discontinued.

It already says it’s not finished,,, but oh well- I still liked it.

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The Almost Forgotten Marriage Contract of 1763 by worldtravellingfly

What would you do when suddenly confronted with a 200+ years old marriage contract by a teen and her lawyer? Run for the hills? Call the nice guys with the white jackets? Certainly not - agree? Well, Tony Stark always was a bit unique.

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Some Hearts by sakurademonalchemist

Robin Black was a bound witch. However, as the new Mistress of Death she was able to break free to Asgard and prepare to reap her vengeance. What she didn't count on was falling for a certain green-eyed, silver-tongued God of Mischief or being hit by Time Sand before the war restarted. Can she make her way back to Loki, or will she be stuck on Earth? FEM HARRY! YOU WERE WARNED!

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A Man of Honor by bloomsburry-dhazel

One day, Lyanna Stark discovers an unconscious man in the Wolfswood. Not knowing who he is, she takes him back to Winterfell where he is nurse back to health... Steve Rogers can't remember what happened to him, or how he ends up there, but he does remember who he is. He is Captain America, and somehow he has become Lyanna Stark's sworn shield.

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The Origin of The Black Widow by The Black Shadowx

The story of how the Black Widow became to be. detailed description of her life in the Red Room and what happened when she defected. this is my own creation so if things appear that is not in the comics thats the reason. i don't things can ever be too far stretched so excuse me if it gets weird. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING TO DO WITH MARVEL . WRITTEN FOR ENTERTAINMENT ONLY

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will be updated...

#masterlist #fanfiction #fanfiction.net #harry potter #marvel #dc #crossovers #got #game of thrones #honestly #why do i even put tags here #justhugefangirl recommends {📑}#fanfiction recommendation {📚}#justhugefangirl creates {🌹}

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labyrinthof-fan-fiction · 4 years

Text

I’m Glad There is You

Bucky x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky has to go to an event at the museum honoring the Captain America crew. As he is the only one still on the record as being alive of the original group he is an honored guest, he brings you as his date. Post Endgame. Sam is Captain now.

A/N: ANOTHER INSPIRED BY VIC DAMONE’S ALBUM THAT TOWERING FEELING AREN’T Y’ALL SHOCKED?!?!?! In all seriousness though I’m obsessed with older music right now and keep relating it to fiCs so this is what happens. I needed a happy Bucky fic after writing so much angst so this is what I came up with. So Sinatra also sang this so, there’s that, but we’re going to give love to Vic’s ‘I’m Glad There is You.’

Vic Damone Facts: He was drafted and served in the army from 1951-1953. His father played guitar and mother played the piano. He recorded around 2,500 songs over the course of 54 years.

Warnings: Mentions of trauma, character deaths.

Word Count: 3,183

Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel, The Avengers, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, ‘I’m Glad There is You.”

“Doll, you ready?” Bucky’s voice rang out through your shared apartment.

“Almost!” You called out, closing the clasps on your earrings. You ran your hands down your dress, pressing out a stubborn wrinkle that had appeared when you were putting the finishing touches to your makeup. You slipped on your heels, which you knew you were going to regret later tonight, but that was a problem for future Y/N. You exited your bed room to see Bucky pacing by the door. “Buck?” You asked.

He turned and his eyes widened at the sight of you. “Doll, you look beautiful.” He said, closing the gap between the two of you to wrap his arms around your waist and press a quick kiss to your forehead. You sensed something off with him, based on the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat and the emotional waves you could feel flying off him.

You smiled up at him, “Thank you, are you okay?” You asked, concerned that this event would bring up feelings that he had been processing for a while.

“I’m good.” He answered quickly. “Just nervous, I feel like I shouldn’t be a part of this. The Winter Soldier shouldn’t be the same place as Captain America.”

You cut him off, “You have every right to be there, as a Howling Commando, as Steve Roger’s best friend, and as one of the hero’s who saved the universe from a raging purple lunatic. Besides, we can’t miss an event that has free food.”

He chuckled. “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.” You winked, turning to the door. “Sam’s here.”

Bucky sighed, “Here we go.” He offered his arm to you as you made your way to the door. He opened the door before Sam had the chance to knock.

“I hate when you two do that, damn.” He grumbled, he stood before the two of you in a black tuxedo.

“Someday you’ll sneak up on us.” You said with a wink.

“Not likely.” Bucky muttered.

A limo was parked in front of your apartment building. You raised your eyebrows at Sam. “Don’t look at me. Pepper insisted that we take a limo and I wasn’t going to argue with her.”

You nodded, it had been almost a year post Thanos. Pepper was strong, but no one wanted to argue with her after losing Tony. Perhaps they had given her maybe too much power over their existence. But her husband had sacrificed himself for the entire universe. So she could take all the time she needed to heal.

Sam slid in first, followed by you, then Bucky. You sat sandwiched between the two men, who had come to some as semblance of friendship in the time since Sam was given the shield. You knew Bucky was not jealous of Sam by any means, he did not want any part of being Captain America. Helping Sam, that he could do. In some odd ways he seemed to believe it atoned for his sins as the Winter Soldier. You leant back in your seat, the limo filled with silence, which was rare for these two. You wondered what the deal was.

Bucky shifted so his hip was no longer against his, he mentally smacked himself as you gave him an odd look. It wasn’t like him to pull away from any kind of contact, he glanced up and Sam smirked at him. What he would give to be able to throttle him……. But that was not going to be the focus of his night, you were. The velvet box in his pocket grounding him. He watched you settle into conversation with Sam and remained silent.

He had met you during the time of conflict between Tony and Steve. You had pulled him back when Steve and Tony were at each other’s throats. You had pushed him behind you when they got closer. He was confused, to say the least, first that someone would protect him, and that person would be human. At least, that was what he had thought you where when he first met you. After being in Wakanda, he realized that you weren’t entirely a human. You had telepathic abilities, which was why you had been there when they took him out of the cryostasis.

You had been able to sense the links in his brain that had been set up by Hydra. Your abilities to sense helped the Wakandan team to begin working on his mind. You stayed with him through his recovery, often showing up to his hut in the middle of the night when he was pulled back into his memories, back to the Soldier. One night would remain in his memories eternally.

He was taken back to the night that he was deep in a Soldier nightmare. The nightmare of the Starks. He was slipping, he could feel the Soldier clawing at the door he had slammed shut and locked. No, no, not again. He was thrust into the past against his will.

“Barnes?” You had felt a shift in him, back into the Soldier. You entered his hut cautiously. He didn’t answer, you could feel the energy swirling around him, darkness swallowing the light. You stopped outside his bedroom door, you had always felt apprehension at passing through his room, but you couldn’t let that stop you. You pushed into his room, he was in the center of the bed, covers thrown to the side. His hand wrapped tightly in the sheets. Sweat coated his body, his dark hair sticking to his forehead.

“NO!” He screamed, your heart breaking at his voice.

You wasted no more time staring at him, “Barnes,” You murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to his hand. You reached out with your mind. “Come back, Barnes.”

You were thrown into his mind, feeling his panic, his shame. The Soldier turned to you, as he often did, you could feel the snarl it gave. James began to calm to ground himself, reaching out to your energy, retreating from the Soldier. You felt the Soldier return to his locked door.

His eyes opened and they took in the woman sitting on the edge of his bed. “Y/N.” He whispered, his hand reaching out and grasping yours. His fingers threaded through yours, this was the first thing he always did when he was pulled out of his Soldier nightmares. He craved contact and you wouldn’t deny him that.

“Welcome back, Barnes.” You said, brushing your thumb against the back of his hand. “Where did you go?”

“The 90s, the Starks.” He turned away from you, “I should have let Tony kill me.”

You removed your hand from his and reached out, placing your hand on his face and turning his eyes back to yours. “It wasn’t you, it was the Soldier. It was what they created.” You murmured, stroking his cheek. His hand reached up and he pushed your hand away.

“But he is a part of me, and I couldn’t stop him.” Tears collected in his grey eyes.

“It takes time to fight your inner demons. And yours were supercharged and given the chance to run your life. Having demons doesn’t make you inherently evil.” You stated, moving further onto his bed, placing your hands on either side of his face. “In the heart of it all you are a good man.”

He let out a sob, “I….”

“Do not even start that bullshit with me. I have looked inside of you, you know what I’ve seen? A man who will go to the ends of the world to protect those he loves. A man who gives so much more than he gets. A man who survived hell and came back up.” You snarled, E/C eyes unmoving as you stared into his. “You are a damn good man and I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his bare chest, he burrowed his face into your hair. This was something unspoken between the two of you. The contact, the feelings. But he always pushed you away. If there was one person in the universe he could not afford to hurt it was you. “Please don’t go.” He begged.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You murmured, reaching out with your mind to soothe him. You felt his heartbeat slow and his breathing turn to soft snores. Your pulse synced with his as his hand made its way up to your back.

This is where you had found yourself most nights. Wrapped in his arms listening to the sound of his slumber, using your abilities to guard him from the Soldier. Bucky’s subconscious mind was more susceptible to allowing a takeover. If your telepathy could bring him enough peace to get sleep.

Multiple times through this Shuri had found you wrapped up with Bucky, “You two should just move in together.” She said after she walked in on you wrapped up together in bed after the Stark nightmare.

James’ face turned bright red as he looked at you. Expecting you to fight Shuri on this.

“You know, it might not be such a bad idea. Then I wouldn’t have to do battle with the goats at two o’clock in the morning.” You said, pulling yourself out of his arm and sitting upright on the edge of the bed.

“So it’s settled, we’ll move Y/N’s stuff in today.” Shuri giggled, skipping out of the room.

“You don’t have to do this.” James said.

“When are you going to get this through your head, I want to.” You answered, resting your hand on his cheek. Barnes remained silent on this, you could see the wheels turning in his mind. “Now I have to go get my things, because once Shuri has an idea in her head there is no stopping her, roomie.”

He groaned, knowing you were right. “I’ll start making room for you.” Running his hand through his hair, he sat up. “And you can call me Bucky. People who live together don’t have formalities, doll.”

And that was the moment that you both silently recognized that there was something more than friendship between you.

It was comfortable, living with you. You opened his eyes to everything he had missed from the decades in Soldier Mode. Films, books, and music. No matter how much you introduced him to modern music, he still clung to the styles of the past. On multiple occasions he had pulled you into the yard to dance with him under the stars. Those were his favorite moments with you, just swaying to the music, his past would drift away. Holding you he could feel hope for his future. Peace in his present.

“Buck, baby?” Your voice pulled him from his memories.

“Yeah, doll?” He asked, rubbing his eyes with his flesh hand.

“You ready?” You asked, nodding to the limo’s door. Sam had stepped out, he hadn’t even noticed.

His metal hand wrapped around yours, “I’m ready.”

You entered the museum hand in hand. Nodding to Sam as you passed, a smirk on his face. The museum was filled with people in formal wear. Music floated in from the hall, World War II regalia littering the walls.

Pepper caught sight of the two of you and closed the distance. “James, we’ll have you open the gala with a dance. As the only living original member it’s a great press moment.” She turned on her heel, you and Bucky following her. When you made it to the hall you were impressed. They had opened the center up to allow for a large dance hall. You glanced around the room, highly doubting that you had seen this much red, white, and blue ever in your lifetime.

“Goddamn.” Bucky murmured behind you.

“Pep doesn’t hold back.” You whispered. Taking in the room, a band was set up on stage.

Nervous energy swirled around Bucky, you tightened your grip on his hand, “I’m okay, I promise.” He glanced up at the band, “I’ll be right back.” He made his way over to the singer and shook the man’s hand.

Confusion flooded your system. Bucky, approaching someone, without prompting? Sam came up on your left. “Look at our baby, off on his own. It brings a tear to my eye.”

You reached out and smacked his chest. “Asshole.” You muttered.

“That’s Captain Asshole, thank you very much.”

You rolled your eyes, keeping watch over Bucky, who was smiling and joking with the singer of the band. He was comfortable, you could sense it, even though there was a tinge of nervousness in his system. The Soldier had stayed deep inside him for so long, but old habits died hard and you always kept a tether to Bucky, monitoring. When Bucky had realized this you had expected him to be mad, maybe an outburst of the Soldier, but that never happened. He wrapped you in his arms and thanked you, for protecting him, for backing him up.

Bucky turned back to you and waved, you gave a small wave back to him. “Awwww, you and Frosty, so cute.” A voice came from behind you.

“Shuri! What are you doing here?” You asked giving the young woman a quick hug.

“You think I wouldn’t come to Pepper’s fundraiser?” She answered. You glanced around, realizing that a majority of the Avengers were here. Bruce in the corner, Clint and his wife at the appetizers table, Peter dancing around the room armed with his cell phone. It was odd, you had all been together multiple times since Tony’s funeral. But usually that was for meetings on the state of the world.

Pepper walked up to the microphone on stage, Bucky turning away from the singer to stand next to her. You had to marvel at him, there had been a time when he couldn’t even see Pepper without going into full fight or flight mode. Seeing him standing tall on stage reminded you of how many battles he had won. “Good Evening.” Pepper began, causing the crowd to grow silent. “I would like to thank you all for being here tonight. The preservation of history has always been a passion for Stark Enterprise. Tony would have been so glad to see all of you here. This expansion of the Captain America exhibit will be dedicated to Howard Stark.” She paused and took a breath. Bucky tensed beside her, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “So open your checkbooks, sign on those dotted lines, and remember, donations make great tax write offs.” The crowd chuckled. “To open our gala tonight, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes will open the dance floor.”

“And that’s my cue.” The singer said from the other side of the stage. As Bucky made his way off the stage to you. He held out his hand and you placed yours in his, letting him pull you onto the dance floor. “Sergeant Barnes requested this song for tonight, so here’s hoping I do it justice.”

Bucky pulled you into him, one hand placing yours on his shoulder, then moving to your waist. You rested your head on his shoulder. “So you requested a song for tonight?”

“I did.” He answered. “And that’s only the beginning of the surprises tonight.” His hand tracing circles on your back and the singer began his tune.

“In this world of ordinary people,

Extraordinary people.

I'm glad there is you.”

You breathed in as you listened to the singer’s lyrics, Bucky’s grip tightening on your mid-section, bringing you closer to him. You heard his voice softly singing along with the singer. He had sung a few times before while you were dancing, but you could feel his intent rolling out of him in waves. Your telepathic connection filled with love.

“In this world of over-rated pleasures,

Of under-rated treasures,

I'm so glad there is you.”

“I’m so glad.” He whispered into your hair. “God, doll, you’re the best thing to happen to me.”

“I live to love, I love to live with you beside me,

This role so new, I'll muddle through with you to guide me.”

He guided you around the dance floor, you could feel the eyes of the whole room on the two of you, but you only focused on Bucky. Memories of your days teaching Bucky about technology in Wakanda came up to the surface. You chuckled as you remembered one that ended in a smashed computer and an irate Shuri.

“In this world where many, many play at love,

And hardly any stay in love,

I'm glad there is you.”

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair. His grip loosening as he spun you out then pulled you back against his chest. You looked up into his blue eyes.

“I love you too.”

“In this world where many, many play at love,

And hardly any stay in love,

I'm glad there is you.”

“Which is why I need to do this.” He pulled away from you, nervous energy spiking.

“Buck….”

“It’s okay, doll.” He murmured. Reaching into his pocket and kneeling down onto one knee. The music dimming into a quiet instrumental. “Y/N. I’ve loved you since the first time we met. You have helped me piece myself back into my old self. Teaching me all about the present. So….. Y/F/N, will you marry me?” He opened the box, showing a simple, but beautiful, diamond ring.

“Hmmmm…. That’s a tough one.” You murmured, a small flash of panic racing through his eyes. “Yes, I will marry you.” You answered, bending down and placing a kiss to his lips. He pulled away, a wide smile on his face. He took your hand and slipped the ring on your finger before pulling you back into his chest. The crowd erupted into cheers.

You buried your face in his chest. As you heard Sam yell out, “About damn time!”

You felt Bucky chuckle and the singer’s voice broke through the crowd.

“More than ever, I'm glad there is you.”

Bucky repeated the words into your hair as he rested his head on top of yours. The nervous energy you had sensed from him all night and you felt yourself wrapped in the energy that was just purely Bucky. You noticed Bucky stiffen.

“Babe….?” You asked.

“He came.” He whispered, you glanced up at his face and followed his eyes to the elderly man in the corner of the room. A smile graced the man’s face and he nodded to the two of you. “Steve.”

You looked up at your fiancé. “Go on.” You said, pushing him towards his best friend. You felt tears in your eyes as the men embraced.

“Barnes is a lucky man.” You heard Pepper’s voice behind you.

“No, I’m the lucky one.” You murmured, watching the men looking around the room. Reminiscing no doubt, to the naked eye, it probably looked like a grandson and grandfather. But you knew, it was best friends who finally got their moment to celebrate their victories.

#james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader

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ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

Trimming the Tree

Summary: Omar loses a bet with Louis and has to fulfill Louis' unique idea for Christmas decorating.

Word Count: 1884

Read on A03:

“Alright, everyone, I have an announcement to make,” Louis stood in front of the picnic table, his hands proudly pulling upon the collar of his coat. “I’m sure everyone remembers the bet I placed with Omar back in October, the one where he said there was no way I could bag five rabbits singlehandedly for us in one day and I did.”

“I remember the bet,” Omar replied calmly, setting aside his stew bowl. “It’s one I’ve begun to dread considering the fact that you still haven’t called in that favor you won from me,”

“Well fear no more, Omar, for today is the day I call upon you for that favor,” Louis declared, a cheeky grin on his face.

A frown pulled at Ruby’s lips as she looked up at Louis. “Now I know I don’t have to tell you not to choose anything stupid. And by stupid I mean dangerous,”

Louis raised his hands in self-defense. “Why, sweet Ruby, I would never! What I have in mind for Omar isn’t dangerous at all. For you see, the favor I am asking for is that Omar be a tree,”

Clementine’s brow quirked at that line. “A tree? What do you have up your sleeve, Lou?”

“Only a deck of cards, my dear,” Louis replied with a wink.

Omar looked unimpressed. “You want me to be a tree. What does that involve, standing completely still for an entire day?”

“Ah ah ah, not just any tree, Omar,” Louis lifted a finger. “You see, the tree I want you to become is… a Christmas tree,”

That got a reaction out of the kids. None of them had had a Christmas tree for Christmas since before the world ended. There were pine trees that grew in the forest, but they were a great distance away and most were far too large to carry. The one year obtaining a Christmas tree had been attempted back when they were young teens, they’d almost lost a kid in the process. Having a human stand in for the Christmas tree was an interesting prospect to say the least.

Omar crossed his arms, eyeing Louis evenly. “And what exactly will I be doing as a Christmas tree?”

“Why being decorated of course!” Louis quipped. “There’s a box full of decorations in the basement that the school used to use. You’ll stand in place in the music room and the rest of us will dance around you and put decorations all over your clothes and hair,”

“You know,” Aasim cut in, “There’s a perfectly reasonable alternative to this which is building some sort of artificial tree ourselves. I think-”

But Aasim had already lost the attention of the others before he started. Most of them were quite excited at the idea of decorating Omar, the little boys already abuzz with ideas and inspiration. Omar looked rather conflicted at the thought of being a stand-in for a tree but upon seeing the joy in A.J. and Willy’s faces his expression softened and he gave Louis an approving nod.

“It has been decided!” Louis declared, dramatically drumming upon the table. “Tomorrow we shall convene to decorate the music room and Omar!”

---

The next day after all the chores had been completed everyone gathered in the music room to begin decorating. Prisha, Violet, Willy and Ruby had grabbed the decorations from the basement while A.J., Clementine and Louis had gathered together all the paper and craft supplies they could carry in order to make even more decorations. Omar and Aasim tidied up the music room in order to prepare it for its Christmas transformation.

Once they were all gathered and had everything ready, Omar took his place at the center of the room, standing in as the tree. Ruby put one of the few Christmas records they had on the gramophone. “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” began to play and everyone bopped their heads softly to the music.

Louis rooted through one of the boxes of decorations, clearly looking for something in particular. “What better way to start our decorating than with… tinsel!” The dreadlocked boy threw the silver strands into the air with a happy cry watching in glee as they came to rest all over Omar’s afro. A.J. immediately followed Louis’ lead, grabbing his own handful of tinsel and throwing it directly in Omar’s face.

“Not the face, goofball,” Clementine instructed, coming over to join them by the boxes. Fishing inside the nearest one, she grabbed a simple ball ornament and stepped forward, gently dangling it from Omar’s ear.

That seemed to be the signal everyone had needed to really get started. Violet and Prisha grabbed a length of garland made from red tinsel and began to circle Omar with it, smiling at each other as they did so. Willy had gone crazy with the ornaments, trying to place them on any possible place they could stay: Omar’s other ear, his nose, each one of his fingers. He wanted to take off Omar’s shoes to decorate his toes too, but Aasim put a stop to that.

The Indian boy had been working mostly with Ruby on other ways in which they could decorate the room for Christmas. Colored candle holders filled the room just as they had the night of the hootenanny, but now paper snowflakes had been added to the mix, decorating the walls and being scattered across the top of Louis’ piano. Paper chains crafted by Clementine and decorated by A.J. also did their part to brighten up the room as well as joining the garlands wrapped round and round Omar’s form.

Omar tried his best to stay still, a soft smile on his face as he watched his friends get into the Christmas spirit. Blowing a stray piece of tinsel away that was tickling his nose, he looked over at Louis who was in the mist of trying to make a paper crown as a “tree topper”. “You know, Louis, if this was your plan all along, shouldn’t you have made the bet with someone taller, say, Aasim or Prisha?

Louis smiled, looking up from his cutting. “If that had been my plan from the beginning, then certainly. But it wasn’t. I just made that bet on a whim and inspiration didn’t strike till later. But boy, when it did, I just knew I had to make this happen. You may not be the tallest tree, but you’ve certainly brought our Christmas to life,”

The boys looked around the room together, smiling at all the joy that was present there. There hadn’t been a true Christmas celebrated here in quite some time. Last year they’d been in the midst of healing from the Delta attack with Clementine and Violet still recovering from their injuries. The year before, well, they hadn’t known it at the time, but Marlon had been too busy hiding the truth about what happened with the twins for any Christmas celebrations to happen at all.

And even the years before that the kids had all been so focused on survival, just barely scraping by each winter, that it had never felt like Christmas was something worth celebrating. Now things were different though. Things were peaceful, they were safe, and the reintroduction of the greenhouse and the additions of a vegetable garden and rabbit hutch meant they had quite a bit of food stored up for winter. For the first time in a long time they were all happy, really truly happy.

Eventually the decorations had all been used, the room was fully decorated, and Omar was covered from head to toe in tinsel, ornaments and garlands. The kids took a step back, admiring their work proudly.

“Great job, team,” Louis declared, tugging on his collar once more. “Before we call it a night though, there’s one more surprise for everybody. Well, everybody but me and A.J. that is. You ready, buddy?”

“You know it!” A.J. ran over to Louis’ side, bouncing excitedly. “Is it time to tell the secret now? Can I, can I, can I?”

“Just a second, little man,” Louis chuckled, fondly ruffling the boy’s afro. “How ‘bout we show instead of tell them?”

“Right!” A.J.’s eyes lit up with joy and he rocketed out of the room, Louis close behind him. It took a few minutes, but soon the others could hear the pair’s footsteps shuffling back towards the room. Louis backed through the door with A.J., both boys carrying something within their arms. It only took a moment for everyone to recognize what it was.

“A tree!” Willy shouted, his mouth wide open in awe. “A real live Christmas tree!”

It was indeed a Christmas tree, but a much smaller one than the full-grown pines that grew so far away from them. It was about A.J.’s height and had been placed inside a large planter which the pair now placed upon the floor.

“That’s right,” Louis smiled proudly. “This was the source of my inspiration: a pint-sized Christmas tree we can plant and grow in our very own yard!”

Everyone oohed and ahhed at the tree, stepping forward to get a closer look and touch the tiny branches for themselves.

“Louis and I found the tree a few days ago,” A.J. explained, standing beside the tree. “But when we found it, Louis told me we should keep it a secret, a scallion secret,” he raised a finger to his lips and looked at Clementine with a smile. Clementine returned the gesture, happy to hear the Disco Broccoli line from him.

“Wait a minute,” Aasim raised an eyebrow. “If you already had the tree, then why did you convince Omar to stand in as a fake tree instead?”

“Because this is our outdoor tree. Omar served as our indoor tree – duh,” Louis said dismissively in a way that caused Aasim to roll his eyes. “Although once we have this little beauty planted, we can probably transfer some of Omar’s decorations over to it,”

“You expect me to stand still like this for the rest of the day?” Omar asked evenly.

Louis thought on the question for a moment. “Well, per the rules of the bet I could require you to uphold the favor for the entirety of the day as I originally stated, but in the spirit of Christmas I will graciously declare the favor fulfilled,”

“Wonderful,” Omar immediately reached up to remove the ornament from his nose then got started on taking off the rest of the decorations. The others helped him until only the paper crown and a few stray strands of tinsel lay upon his head. Omar knelt down and picked up the box that had been refilled with the decorations once used to adorn him. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s plant this tree,”

“The party continues outside!” Louis crowed, moving to pick up the tree once more. “C’mon everybody, let’s head outside!” With that he was off, A.J. scurrying alongside and helping hold up a corner of the tree. Everyone else followed closely behind, their conversations picking up once more as they left the decorated music room behind and headed toward the outdoors. Christmas wasn’t contained in just one room; it was all around them.

#twdg #twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg omar #twdg aj #twdg privet #rusim #ninja fam #fanfic #twdg christmas #ericsonclanchristmaschallenge

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lilulo-12fanfiction · 4 years

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Shadow of The Day

So this one was requested by @fandomaestheticxo . Bucky Barnes x Reader with Prompt "Don’t leave me”

Hope you enjoy! It kind of ends abruptly, but I wanted to get this out and if I didn’t end it, it would go on forever. As always reblogs, comments & likes are always appreciated. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in this or any of my other work

. Marvel Tag List: @fanfictionjunkie1112 @shreddedparchment

Marvel Masterlist

“SAMMY!!!!” You screamed as you ran across the rooftop. “Are you close to the south end building?”

“I can be.” You heard his voice come through your ears. “Why?”

“Because you’re going to have to catch me!” You screamed as you turned and jumped backwards off the building. You said a silent prayer that he got to you in time. But you’d rather die at your own hands than Hydra. They weren’t kidding when they said “Cut off one head and two more grow in its place.” Ever since Thanos had been defeated, Steve Rogers had officially retired and the world lost Tony and Natasha...they had creeped back up. They had thought they stood a chance now that some of the major players were gone. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

The Falcon had taken over the mantle of Captain America and with the help of The Winter Soldier had formed a new set of Avengers. Even with Thanos gone, the world wasn’t safe. It seemed like Hydra, the worst of the worst thought they stood a chance with the change of command. TI were happy to have another team to serve with. Working with Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff has been an honor and a privilege. You, Sam and Bucky had fallen into a comfortable team. They bickered, you drove Bucky Barnes crazy but the three of you were a team. You were THE team. You trusted the two men implicitly and you’d lay your life down for both of them.

You felt your stomach in your throat as you plummeted towards the ground. You were immediately questioning the decision you made. The moment you thought it was all over you felt the back of your legs and upper body cradled. You opened your eyes and saw Sam Wilson grinning.

“That was a ballsy move.”

“I wasn’t letting them get their hands on me.”

“You know he’s loosing his shit right?”

“I’m sure.” You rolled your eyes. Sam set you down on the ground.

“They’re dead.” You heard in your ear. “They offed themselves when I was about to capture them. Meet me at the jet.”

“Want a ride?” Sam grinned at you and scooped you up after you nodded.

_________________________________________________________ Bucky paced back and forth on the quinjet. Your recklessness weighing heavily on his mind. How many times had you unnecessarily risked your life? How many times had you ignored a direct order? Sam may have found it endearing- he found it infuriating. He cared too much about you to let you get yourself killed for no reason.

Steve had warned him. Steve knew how you were. Steve had told him you were fearless. Bucky just hadn’t expected you to be this careless. He often wondering if your blasé attitude when it came to your own life was a direct result of all you had lost since Thanos...and before Thanos. You had picked yourself up by the bootstraps, survived Hydra captivity and made a new family with the original Avengers. You had made a home with Tony and Pepper. And then Thanos came and when it was all said and done you had lost everything again.

Steve had hesitated going back to Peggy because of you. You had assured him you would be okay. Steve deserved a happy ending. He deserved to have the life he wanted away from the fight. “After all”, you had said, “you won’t be dead and you’ll come back”. You had promised Steve you were okay. Bucky had promised to take care of you. But lately, it was like you didn’t care what happened to you. You had thrown yourself in front of a bullet, taking it in the shoulder instead of Bucky. The Winter Soldier, a super soldier who was almost invincible. He would have shrugged that bullet off. You goaded Hydra soldiers into attacking you, you loved making them mad, which was playing with fire. And then today, you jumped off a building without knowing how close Sam had been. Another few moments and you would have been spread across the pavement. Then what would he have done? How would he and Sam have coped with THAT loss? How would he explain to Steve that he failed to do the one thing he promised- to keep you alive?

A year after Tony’s Funeral:

You had been working with Pepper to rebuild the compound. Tony had become your mentor after he and Steve had their falling out. It had been difficult to go against Steve, but you had sided with Tony on the Accords. You were there when Tony found out that Bucky had killed his parents. You had held him up after Steve’s betrayal. The truth was, Tony had held you together after Steve had left too.

Now the only thing you could do to honor the man who had become your family was rebuild what he had made. You had a memorial created for Tony and Natasha on the grounds. You went to it every day and cried. A year later and you still weren’t over the deaths of two of the people you loved most in this world. Your only saving grace was that Steve Rogers, the man you saw as a brother, was still alive and had gotten his happy life with Peggy.

You saw him as you approached. He had cut his long hair. He looked like the pictures Steve had shown you. His vibranium arm covered by his jacket and glove. You could feel the regret radiating off of him. You and Bucky had fallen into an easy friendship, though you were certain he saw you as a pain in the ass. You knew he felt responsible for you since Steve was gone. You had overheard him promise to keep you safe. The two of you, however, hadn’t become friends that shared their inner feelings yet.

“He forgave you, you know.” Bucky turned and gave you a questioning look. “Tony. He forgave you. He and I talked a lot about it after Steve went on the run. It took a while, but he did. I told him what it was like being a prisoner of Hydra. Once he got over the shock and the pain of it- he forgave you. He wanted to be able to tell you that. But then Thanos did what he did. Then Tony did what he did. And now here we are. For him, it was more Steve. His betrayal. If Steve had been honest with him, things would have turned out differently. Steve and Tony made amends. I’m certain that if Tony has lived, then he would have made amends with you too Sergeant Barnes. He forgave you. Forgive yourself. You need to let The Winter Soldier go. You’re a good man Sergeant.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because Steve Rogers told me you were. And that man was never wrong. You need to forgive yourself. Tony would want you to. And you’ve already made your amends by helping me rebuild what Tony, Nat and Steve made. I’m digging the hair cut by the way.” You shot him a wink and didn’t give him the chance to respond before you walked away. He never told you, but that day you helped him say goodbye to his complicated past and look towards his future.

The next year was filled with witty banter, flirting and kicking ass. You had seemed to have it together at first. It was more recent that you seemed to be falling apart. Maybe because the 2nd anniversary was coming, maybe it was being involved with Hydra again; or maybe the exterior armor you had worked so hard to build so no one could get in had officially cracked. He was so angry. How could you not care more about yourself? How did you not realize how much you meant to him? He heard you and Sam approaching the jet and got busy getting ready to take off, trying to control his temper. He didn’t want to have a screaming match with you. “Nice work Buck.” Sam patted Bucky on his shoulders.

“You too. We’re just no closer to what they want.” Bucky narrowed his eyes at you and immediately went to the quinjet controls. You were expecting him to rip into you. You didn’t know which was worse, his wrath or his silence. You knew the wrath would eventually come.

“Y/N has an idea.” Bucky turned and raised his eyebrows at you, his face laced with attitude.

“I think they want Steve. I overheard them talking about ‘The Captain’. All they know is that he’s retired. They don’t know that he went back in time to live a life with Peggy and came back over 100 years old.”

“What would they want with Steve?”

“They want more Super Soldiers. You’re their only successful soldier. They may have enhanced me, but I’m no Super Soldier.”

“That’s funny because you act like you are.” You took the jab and continued your thought. He was trying to bait you. It made him feel better to yell at you, but he didn’t want to feel guilty later. Pushing you into a fight was the only way for him to not feel guilty.

“I think that Hydra thinks they can get the jump in him. If they can get his blood they might be able to recreate the serum. Technology is more advanced now. They could do it. And Sergeant- just so you know, before you make any other comments or decide to scream at me when we get back. I owe Steve Rogers my life. He saved me. If Hydra finds him now, he’s not what he used to be. They could take him. I will DIE before I let Hydra torture me into telling them where he is. And I won’t die at their hands.” Bucky clenched his jaw and turned to the controls of the jet.

Around the events of “Age of Ultron”

“She’s an enhanced. Hydra made her. How do we know they didn’t plant her here to take us down from the inside.” Clint had his arms crossed in front of him. “He has a point Cap.” Bruce had been trying tofigure out what your abilities were, but you wouldn’t let him near you. Tony was tight lipped, Bruce had a feeling he knew.

“She wouldn’t have been locked up like that. You saw her, they tortured her. You can’t fake that look in her eyes. And she would have attacked. She’s been alone with enough of us. Bruce, you of all people should understand being misunderstood.She can stay on my floor. I’ll keep an eye on her if it makes you feel better, but I trust her. She needs someone to show her kindness.”

“I’m with Cap. She’s telekinetic, by the way. If she wanted us all dead she would have flattened us. She stays. And once she’s bounced back mentally we give her the choice to fight with us and learn to use her skills or I set her up with a nice quiet life.”

“I want to fight.” Your voice was hoarse. Your lip was healing from being split down the middle. Various other injuries were apparent.

“Y/N- you don’t need to decide now.“ Steve rushed over to you.

“Hydra killed my family. My Uncle was a scientist for them and he let an enhanced go. He didn’t know what he was getting into until it was too late. He felt guilty and letting their subject go was the right thing to do in his eyes. They wanted someone young, so they went after the only child he was related to and loved. They made him watch as they murdered my parents and my Aunt. They made him watch as they abused me, broke me and finally injected me and then they killed him. I’ve seen the evil they have put into this world. I need to help fix that. I need to fight back.” You had become an Avenger that day and never looked back.

Bucky had his arms crossed in front of him. He was still not ready to let go of the days events. Sam has gone off to update the mission files. You and Bucky stood toe to toe in the terminal. Sam had felt the conflict brewing and wasn't in the mood to referee the two of you, he was tired.

“Why didn’t you use your powers?” He questioned you like you were a child. You threw your hands up in exasperation.

“I was running across a roof top that had NOTHING to throw at them. And I was running! My aim isn’t great while moving. I can’t move people, you know that! I never got that far in my training with Tony. He thought I was powerful enough to do it." You felt your voice getting shrill. Bucky was the only one that could bring that out in you. "But then Thanos happened and Tony came back broken. He left. And then when he came back again, he died! Nat is gone. Thor is off in space. Bruce and Wanda are off grieving their losses. Steve is gone. Everyone is GONE!” You were crying and yelling at the same time. Bucky hadn’t meant to upset you like this. He was just so damn upset and scared that you would get yourself hurt or dead. Your voice was quiet and low when you continued, “Everyone is gone but us. And Sam isn’t equipped to help me train. Neither are you. You don't have the patience to help train me. And none of us are a smart as Tony was. Not even Bruce. He knew exactly what to do to bring me to the next level. To bring out my abilities. None of us that are left have that talent. Steve might have been able to, but well, he chose a different path. And I’m glad that he did.” You wiped a stray tear. “I will die before they ever get me again. I will NEVER go through that again. I can’t go through that again. You of all people should understand that. And I will protect Steve Rogers with my last breath.” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the room, ignoring Bucky calling your name. You only paused for a moment.

“I promise you, on my life, on your life, I wont let them take you. They will never get their hands on you again.” You continued walking down the hall. Bucky stood there for a few moments after you had gone, hoping you’d come back.

_________________________________________________________

2 Weeks Later

You had taken a mission hiatus. More like a Bucky Barnes hiatus. You had been avoiding him since your last argument. You hadn’t been able to settle down from it. You were having horrible nightmares. Emaciated Tony Stark haunted your dreams. Bucky had did everything he could to get you alone so you could talk again, but you weren't having it. You told Sam you needed a couple of weeks out of the field to get your head straight. He wasn't sure what had gone on between you and Bucky in that hallway, but he didn't ask. You were still upset and he knew you didn't want to talk about it. So while he and Sam went off to fight more Hydra members, you decided it was time to take care of Steve Rogers and make sure he was safe. You had heard more rumors that Hydra was on the hunt for Steve Rogers. There was no way in hell you would let them lay a finger on him.

“I don’t need anyone to protect me.” Steve was still Steve.

“Steve. They’re after you. You’re like 200 years old now. I really think they could take you.” You had a hand on your hip. He knew that look too well. He knew when he could reason with you and when your stubbornness was going to make his life hell. He knew he wasn’t going to get his way. “New Asgard is nice. Valkyrie is a bad ass. I trust her to make sure they can’t find you. Please. Just until we can get a handle on this. I can't focus out there if I'm worried about you. Wondering if they're just distracting us because they figured out where you were and they wanted to make sure we were too busy to help you. They don't know that you're an old man now. Let's keep it that way.”

It was still alarming to see Steve this old. While his appearance may have been overall different- his eyes, his warm and kind eyes, were still the same.

“Okay Doll. If it makes you feel better. But you have to do something for me.”

You raised both of your eyebrows at him, which encouraged him to continue. “Be more careful. Take less risks. Cut Bucky some slack. He cares about you. He just isn’t great at expressing it. He used to be...before...but they changed him.”

“I told him-“ Steve held his hand up to silence you.

“You and I both know that you’re reckless with your life because you think you’re not worth caring about. You think that now that Tony is gone you don't have a place in the world. Nat is gone. And I might as well be gone. I get not wanting to go back to Hydra, but this isn’t new. You've always been reckless with your own life. You need to realize how much you’re worth. Sam and Bucky, they depend on you. You guys are a family now. You mean a lot to Bucky. More than you know. Be more careful, if not for them, for me. I’m not there to watch your back anymore.”

You blinked back a few tears, gave Steve a rushed kiss on the cheek. “Sure thing Captain.” You quickly made your way out of his small home in New Asgard. You didn’t like how emotional he and Barnes made you feel with their speeches and concern.

Steve sighed and ran his hand down his face. He knew you were still struggling with the loss of everything. A small part of him felt selfish for not making sure you were really okay before he went and got his happy ending. He didn't know how to reach you, how to help you heal. He pulled his phone out and dialed Bucky to give him a heads up. Bucky had been concerned about you as of late, Steve was starting to see why. _________________________________________________________

That night you were standing in the balcony of the compound drowning your feelings in a cheap bottle of champagne. It was a little chilly for early May. You stood in a pair of leggings and a grey waffle knit sweater you were sure had been Bucky’s before you washed it and accidentally shrank it. You hadn’t heard any news about their mission from that day but assumed no news was good news. You could hear music from a party in the distance.

“Can’t be that bad sweetheart.” Bucky’s voice made you jump. He was reminiscent of the Bucky Barnes you had heard stories about.

“Jesus...” you held your hand over your rapidly beating heart. He operated in stealth mode 24/7. He scared you more times than he didn’t. “You need to wear a bell. What isn’t that bad?” Bucky had a gleam in his eyes, one you didn’t often see.

“You only drink $10 champagne out of the bottle when you’re upset.” His head nodded at the uncorked bottle sitting on the patio table. “We’ve been a team long enough for me to know your tells. Nice shirt by the way.” He was smirking at you. If you squinted hard enough, he was definitely flirting.

“Sergeant are you drunk?” He laughed.

“I have to be drunk to be in a good mood?” He stepped closer to you. You had your back against the high railing. He technically had you blocked in, not that you felt the need to bolt from him, not yet anyway.

“Um yeah. Wait- you can’t get drunk.”

“Thor may have sent some supplies from a far away land. He knows my pain of not being able to get drunk on cheap booze. Unlike some people.” He was looking down at you, ghost of a smile on his face, teasing tone. “Sam and I had a good mission. We were celebrating. We wanted you to celebrate with us but we couldn’t find you.”

“I’m honestly not really in the mood for celebrating.” He closed the space between you by another few steps. You felt goosebumps when he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“And you say I’m the broody one. What’s getting to you sweetheart?” Normally any man that called you pet names like that would be digging their scrotum out of their throat. But from Bucky and Steve it was different. They didn’t mean it in a condescending way. From Bucky it was kind of endearing.

“Relocated our senior citizen Super Soldier today. He just said some stuff that stirred things up.” Bucky’s ice blue eyes bore into yours. You could tell the moment the music from the roof top party across the compound where lower level agents were hanging out pulled at his attention. He cocked his ear towards the right.

“Dance with me.” You scoffed.

“What?” He put his hand out for you to place yours in his.

“I’m actually a great dancer. I used to go dancing all the time. Dragged poor Steve on all of these double dates.” He stared at you expectantly with his hand still out. With pursed lips and an eye roll you placed your hand in his. He pulled you close to him while he held your one hand in his and placed the other on the small of your back. That feeling of his hand holding your body close to his felt like a puzzle piece finding the right place. You rested your free hand comfortably on the nape of his neck. You felt selfconcious under his gaze. He was a really good dancer.

“I kind of like this side of you Sergeant. Carefree.”

“I’m slowly getting back to who I was from what they made me. I actually have you to thank for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“The day you came up to me, told me Tony forgave me. That helped me more than you know. If he could let go of what I had done, then I could too. You set me free.” He whispered the last sentence in your ear. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “I wish I could set you free too.” You gave him questioning eyes and he continued. “I know that Tony and Nat’s deaths still weigh on you. I know they and Steve were family to you. I know you miss them. But Tony- he would want you to move on. Be happy. That’s why he did what he did. So you, Pepper, Morgan, Peter and everyone else could live on.” His grip on you tightened when you tried to yank yourself from his arms. You turned your head to the side and he sighed.

“Look at me Y/N. Please look at me.” You slowly turned your head back to meet his eyes. “You bring so much value. This team needs you. Sam needs you. I- I need you. You make me feel things I did t think I would ever feel again. You’re everything Y/N. Please don’t destroy yourself. I can’t imagine living in a world without you in it."

You both jumped apart when you heard knocking on the glass. Sam Wilson was doubled over laughing at how he had scared the two of you. You took the opportunity to slip away from Bucky.

"Y/N... wait."

"Good night Sergeant ." And then you were gone. You had felt something stirring between the two of you. Bucky Barnes was a good looking man, and when he wasn't in mission mode, was the most charming man you had ever met. Even more so than Steve or Tony. Being that close to him, letting him in, letting anyone in terrified you. Every time you let yourself get close to someone, you lost them and they took a piece of you with them. Pretty soon, there wouldn't be anything of you left. You had to keep Bucky at a distance.

_________________________________________________________

Bucky was pacing the length of Steve’s living room. It was like watching a ping pong ball. As much anguish as Bucky was in, Steve Rogers couldn’t help but to be thrilled. This was HIS Bucky. This man was a far cry from The Winter Soldier Hydra had created.

“Buck- take a breath.”

“I’m an idiot Steve. It was too much too fast. I mean, we’ve always had this flirty banter. But I told her she was everything. I mean what was I thinking? She’s like a baby deer, anything too loud or bright and she bolts.”

“Y/N cares about you. I’d even venture to guess she feels the same way about you as you do her.” Bucky gave him the ‘I’m going to argue’ look, before he could start Steve continued. “Hear me out. I see the look in her eyes when she talks about you. I’ve seen her protect you, a man near invincible, when on a mission. She’s just scared. Loosing Tony did a number on her. Don’t give up on her.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Well then Buck you can retire with me and we can go to Asgardian Bingo.”

Bucky cracked a smile. “You’re still a punk.”

_________________________________________________________

“Y/N!” Sam was barreling toward you. “You can’t blow off any more missions.”

“Sammy I’m sorry. I just need more time.”

“I can’t give you more time. Look I don’t know what’s going on between you and Barnes. You’re avoiding him and he’s mopey. But you need to get over it. Get your shit and get your shit together. This is a huge lead on Hydra’s current leader. Wheels up in 30.” Sam stalked out of your room without waiting for a response.

“Dammit.” You signed, knowing Sam was right and knowing you couldn’t avoid Bucky forever. And the idea of getting your hands on the current leader of Hydra was too good to pass up. You grabbed your suit out of your closet.

30 minutes later you were walking onto the quinjet. Bucky looked up and was genuinely surprised to see you. Sam must have thought you weren’t coming.

“Good to see you Doll. Thought you had quit.” He circled around you, staring you down.

“Just wanted some space.”

“You were hiding. Worse you were hiding from me. Why?”

“I’m sorry. Bucky I can’t. This...I can’t do it.” You turned so your back was facing him.

“No. You’re not pushing me away. There’s something here, between you and me. We do this mission and then we are having a serious conversation about us.” Bucky gestured between the two of you.

“Buck-“ you started but Bucky cut you off again.

“Listen- I get it. You’ve lost everything, twice. You’re scared. I’m a survivor. I’m not going anywhere.” He was standing so close you could feel his breadth on the back of your neck. The tiny hairs on your body were standing on end. “Y/N- you make me feel alive. I’m not turning away from that.” Before Bucky could say anything else, Sam climbed aboard the quinjet.

“Good we’re all here. Now let’s get this son of a bitch.” _________________________________________________________

This was an ambush. They had planted the intel to lure the 3 of you to where they wanted you. You were still kicking their asses, but you were running on empty. Using your abilities drained you and you felt a mind numbing migraine quickly approaching. You knocked the Hydra soldier charging at you in the head with a lead pipe knocking them out.

“Y/N you okay?” Sam sounded frantic. You had gotten separated from them early on. You had been internally freaking out but kept pushing forward. You hit your comm.

“Yeah I’m good. I think I just took out the last one over here. I’m going to start making my way to the South East entrance to get the hell out of here.”

“Y/N- please be careful. We will meet you there.” You heard Bucky’s gruff voice. You felt a flood of relief hearing him.

You pulled the hand gun from your holster and slowly made your way through the building. You didn’t remember running this far in, but then again you had been focused on staying alive. You were about to hit the pavement outside when you heard him before you saw him.

“Hello Y/N” his heavy Eastern European accent hung on your name.

“Agent Tordova” You swallowed hard. This man haunted your nightmares. He murdered your family, everyone you loved. Tortured you. Tried to make you into a monster.

“Did you say Tordova?!” Bucky’s voice boomed in your ear piece but you were too frozen to answer. You could hear his feet pounding on the pavement. He must have been running to find you. He knew what this man had done to you.

“It’s been a long time Y/N.” Her circled around you like a hunter circles its prey. “I must say, Avenging agrees with you. I was sorry to hear about your mentor Tony Stark. Another loss for poor Y/N.” You wiped a tear that slipped from your eye as it ran down your cheek. “Always so weak.” He stepped closer to you.

“Don’t you listen to him Y/N. Don’t you dare let him get under your skin.” Bucky was out of breath, clearly still running.

“Where is Captain Rogers?”

“He’s on vacation. Sorry.” Your voice was clipped. You didn’t even get a chance to flinch and his hand was around your throat, squeezing.

“That smart mouth always got you into trouble.” You kicked him in the gut and stumbled away.

“There is nothing you can do to me that will make me give up Steve Rogers location. Nothing.”

“I don’t know darling, I made you crack once or twice.”

“I’m a hell of a lot stronger now than I was back then.”

“That may be true, but there is nothing here for you to hurl at me.” He was cocky as ever. He lunged at you again this time he had you in a head from behind.

“Get your filthy hands off of her.” Relief flooded your body. Bucky promised he’d never let Hydra get their hands on you again, and here he was.

“The Winter Soldier. Our greatest creation and biggest loss. What were the words again?”

“You could say them a thousand times, your programming has been wiped.”

“Well then let’s make a deal. I let the beautiful Y/N go, relatively unscathed and we will leave Steve Rogers alone. You come with me.”

Bucky could see the fear you were trying to hide. But your eyes were wide and your breathing was erratic. Normally calm in any storm, this man had destroyed your life and nearly destroyed you.

“What do you need me or Steve for?”

“To make more soldiers. I just need all of your blood, that’s all.” You had an unreadable expression on your face. Bucky was proud that you had figured it out. Before he or Tordova could say anything else you had elbowed him in the stomach, the fight back in your eyes. Sam came in from the other side about to grab Tordova when Bucky saw your stumble back and the horror full Sam’s eyes. It had all happened so fast, he couldn’t stop it from happening. He and Sam rushed to you as Tordova made his escape.

“Y/N?!” Bucky cradled you in his arms. He saw the blood pooling from your stomach. He started to put pressure on the stab wound. Sam was calling for help. They needed to get you out of here fast.

“Bucky...I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, save your strength. Medics will be here soon.”

“No listen, I’m sorry I pushed you away. I was just scared.”

“It’s okay. You can make it up to me later.” You groaned in pain and leaned into him.

“Bucky I....I love you.”

“Stop it! Don’t say goodbye. You’re not leaving me! Y/N?!” Bucky pulled your body close to his. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me” He felt people pulling him away from your unconscious body. Sam held him back as the medical team started working to save your life. Soon you were on a stretcher and being air lifted out of the facility.

“Tordova?” Bucky couldn’t look at Sam.

"He got away." Bucky punched the wall in frustration.

_________________________________________________________

Bucky sat next to your bedside. Somehow, you were still alive. It was some sort of miracle. The amount of blood you had lost and the internal injuries from the stab wound would have taken a normal person out. For the first time, he was grateful for whatever Hydra had pumped into your veins. He was certain that is what kept you alive.

You had just gotten out of a second surgery to repair an internal tear. The beeping of the machines were the only thing indicating you were alive. There was no movement from your body other than the shallow breaths. They had taken you off the ventilator and so far you were breathing on your own. Whether that would continue was another story. There had been something on the knife that you had been stabbed with, You were fighting a nasty infection on top of everything else. You looked so small and fragile in the bed. It wasn't a sight he was used to. He was accustomed to the fierce fighter with a sharp tongue. He would give just about anything to hear you tell him off. He'd gladly switch places with you just to hear you laugh again.

He thought back to a few months prior, after a mission that went relatively successful, the three of you were sitting in the kitchen drinking. You were laughing so hard your sides hurt. Bucky and Sam had gotten into a shot for shot match up. Sam had broken out Bucky's special stash. You and Sam were partaking in tequila. Even with the much stronger liquor, Bucky was drinking Sam under the table. Sam was slurring his words slightly. You had seemed so carefree in that moment. His head snapped up when he heard you groan.

Everything hurt. Everything was loud. And as you slowly opened you eyes, everything was too bright. You tried to sit up and cried out in pain.

“Easy sweetheart, you’re going to pop a stitch.” Bucky’s easy voice filled your ears.

“I’m alive.” Your voice was scratchy.

“Barely. It was touch and go for a while.” Your eyes focused and you saw the dark circles and lines of worry etched on Bucky’s face. You felt your heart swell. The memories of Tordova and being stabbed came flooding back. You remembered being in Bucky's arms and seeing a tear slip from his eyes.

“I meant it.”

“What?“

“I meant what I said. I was scared. I sorry I pushed you away. I was a coward. But I love you Bucky.” You felt his lips lightly brush yours.

“I love you too. You don’t have to apologize now. You have nothing to be sorry for. Now you rest and heal. Once your back on your feet you can make it all up to me” you felt his lips brush yours again. You wouldn’t waste another moment of your life in fear. No matter what happened you would face it with Bucky at your side.

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the-walking-memelords · 4 years

Text

A2 - Chapter 4: Lost

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Series is rated M

Word Count: 2531

Clementine used to be glad she wasn't alone anymore.

Now the feeling of not being alone is troublesome.

Read it on Ao3!

Read it on Wattpad!

A/N: This is the chapter that was posted a few days ago, haven't had time to put it here until now.

“All hands on deck!” Layla’s usually cheery tone painted with seriousness boomed down the hollow halls as she pounded on each classroom door, waking all of the occupants.

“There’s half a goddamn herd out there!”

Clementine woke with a start, frantic voices and footsteps echoing through the halls. She joined them, unsheathing her machete, racing out of the rusted double doors with the others right on her heels into the bright morning sun. Their ears were assaulted with the gurgling snarls of easily two dozen of the dead as they threw their bodies against the locked and barricaded chainlink gate. Doc and Connor plunged their thin spears through the fence, dropping walkers one by one, splattering his face and clothes with blood and brain matter. Even sol, every second that passed the metal bent inwards a little more, threatening to spill the deadly creatures inside. More members of the caravan ran to help, pushing heavy objects against the failing metal or stabbing the walkers with spears or thin knives.

This isn’t going to work…

There’s too many.

“They’re too condensed!” Clementine grabbed the sleeve of Layla’s leather jacket.

“We can’t take them all like this before they get through.”

“Open the gate.” Louis proposed, Chairles II swung over his shoulder.

“Spread ‘em out, take ‘em one by one.”

Layla nodded, gripping tight to the pastel indigo ribbon tied around her crowbar.

“Everybody get back!” She ordered, the others following suit immediately.

Within seconds the old gate broke free from its hinges, any attempted barricades pushed aside as the swarm was among them. Layla brought her crowbar high above her head, bring it down hard on the skull of the nearest walker with a sickening crunch.

AJ joined Raha and a few other archers providing cover for the melee fighters, dropping any that tried to overwhelm them. Louis charged ahead, crushing the skull of a walker that nearly got the drop on Eric with his klutzy sword maneuvers.

It wasn’t long before the faded asphalt was stained with the lifelessly red blood of the walkers. One that appeared to once be a woman hobbled towards her with a vengeance in her one remaining eye for Clementine having the audacity to survive while she didn't. With one clean swipe that face was robbed of whatever emotion it could still display as Clementine cleaved her head from her shoulders, the skull cracking open on the ground with a splat.

She stands surrounded by the bodies of the dead, face and clothes speckled with blood as she searches for her next target.

There.

Approaching the archers, a pure white piece of cloth stands out, wrapped around the walker’s upper arm like a bandage. The immaculateness was a stark contrast to the rotted being it was attached to. The only thing that seemed to stain it was its own blood splatter when an arrow pierced its skull.

A snarl in her left ear snapped her back to reality as Clementine reacted just in time to raise her arm to the neck of the walker, its jaws snapping inches from her face. Its rotten hands gripped at her hair and shirt, forcing her to expose her neck as it’s strength began to overcome her.

A pop echoed through the air as Clementine’s face was sprayed with brain matter, the walker slumping against her. She threw it off, wiping her eyes as she looked to her whoever had saved her.

“Didn’t expect a legend like you to get to easily distracted on the battlefield.” The blonde woman said as she holstered her silenced pistol.

“Paige.” Clem said in slight astonishment as she settled from the adrenaline.

“Yep, most of me, anyways.” She said shrugging her shoulders.

Clem’s eyes wandered to the sling over her shoulder, her left arm hanging in it with the red-tinted gauze that covered the stump where her hand used to be peaking out.

“At least I’m not left-handed. I can still fight and that’s what counts.” Paige spoke again before Clem could mutter any kind of condolences.

“Speaking of fighting, you were pretty decent with that machete up until I had to save your ass. Heh, reminds me of someone I met a long time ago.”

“Who?” Clementine asked, checking the small chips in the edge of her blade before sheathing it.

“Michonne.”

“Clementine!” Louis called with a worried voice as he ran over, out of breath from the fight.

“Are you alright?”

Blood spatter joined his freckles as it had spotted over his face, a light scratch below his right eye where he seemed to have also had a close call.

“I’m okay.” She reassured him with a smile, brushing away his dreads to get a better look at that mark.

“Clem!” AJ grabbed her arm and quickly pulled her along, a tinge of fear in his expression.

“Layla found something in the herd.”

---

They found the raven-haired woman staring down at the walker at her feet, tapping her crowbar against her leg as she held it loosely at her side.

“I should’ve known this would happen eventually.” Layla said, knowing the others were feet behind her.

“This one’s a fucking warrior.”

She stomped on the arm of the bandaged walker Clem had seen earlier, the bone cracking under her boot. Black paint smeared the front of the cloth, marking at as indeed a member of The Pack.

“I didn’t want to believe you, Clem.” Layla said in a flat tone.

“But this isn’t an accident. Wolfgang did this. And if he’s back, no one is safe.”

Clementine’s blood ran cold, stepping to the side to keep her balance and bumping into Louis. She bit her lip hard to retain her composure as the reality sank in like a knife in her chest.

The war never ended.

It’s only just beginning.

“Hey.” Louis said softly as he put his arm around his girlfriend.

“So if Wolfgang is the guy in charge, how do we get him to fuck off?”

“We don’t. We can’t. Not like this.” Layla scrunched her nose as if holding back tears.

“When my patrol came back, they came back alongside these guys. Some of the best fighters I ever knew are dead. All cut to shit. Na-fa mordeh didn’t do that.”

They were ambushed.

“So what can we do?” Clementine looked into her eyes and saw the reflection of fear of someone who knew exactly what they were up against, but no idea how to proceed.

“His Gravediggers will be here to get the bodies soon so we all need to get out of here. Take the long way around. Don’t stop for anything and make sure you aren’t followed.” Layla pulled a radio, flipping through channels before bringing it to her mouth.

“Listen up, pack what you can and be ready to leave in half an hour. Leave behind what you have to. This is an evacuation.”

“Do you think the others made it back okay?” AJ grabbed Clem’s wrist with urgency.

Oh fuck.

“You’re friends weren’t with these guys, at least. But you better go home and make sure everyone is safe and sound.” Layla gripped her crowbar tighter, looking at it with her brows knitted.

“You might wanna reinstate your ‘Safe Zone’. Put the school on lockdown for the next few months while I try to figure this out with the Alliance. Don’t worry, they won’t ignore this.”

“So we just go home and hide?” Louis questioned with astonishment.

“Yes.” She asserted.

“You’ve got too much to lose to act any other way.”

“She’s right.” Clementine cut Louis off before he could debate the caravan leader.

“We can’t afford to fuck with them if we don’t have to. If we lay low and let the Alliance deal with this, we won’t die, and it won’t be the Delta all over again.”

I can’t go back to that life.

I won’t.

I’d rather die.

“Can we survive the winter like that?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

Clementine’s eyes pleaded with Louis and he quickly conceded. The three of them went to Connor, who held up his end up the deal with a brand new leg for Clementine. Within ten minutes of talking to Layla, they were back on the road.

---

The three of them moved silently with weapons drawn as they took a route that would add a few extra hours to their trip, but would hopefully allow them to get home unfollowed.

Hopefully, the others had the same luck.

“I’m sorry…” Louis breathed out as he brushed his hand against Clementine’s with his eyes still on the path ahead.

“I know this is horrible for you, and I didn’t mean to sound like hiding was a stupid idea, It’s just…”

His voice trailed off, lip pinched under his teeth. He finally turned to look at her.

“The second we started talking about bringing back the safe zone, my mind jumped to how it was when... Marlon was running things.” It was obvious in his eyes that speaking the name of his former best friend opened the wounds in his heart anew.

“It just… feels like history is repeating itself. I thought all that shit was finally over, and now it’s like we’re right back where we started. Fighting and waiting to see who dies next.”

Isn’t that how things have always been?

“It’s all I’ve ever known, even before the Delta.” She learned early on to fear the living much more than the dead.

“Crawford. Howe’s. The original New Frontier. The Delta. There’s always a ‘community’ out there that uses their power to get themselves to the top, no matter how many bodies they have to pile under them to get there.

And they all have one thing in common.

“They all lost.” She pointed out.

“They lost because stepping on people doesn’t work forever. When you run out of people to step on or find someone you can’t step on, that’s when it all starts to crumble.”

The sun abandoned them just as they reached the rusted gates. The school was as dark as the deep woods. Only the faintest whiff of smoke hung in the crisp night air.

“Hey!” Louis called up to the watchtower, seemingly empty with no one to greet them.

“We’re back, get down here and let us in.”

Clementine wrapped her hand around the bars of the gate, the metal already freezing against her skin. The inside of the courtyard seemed barren of all life. A few cracked bowls littered the picnic tables. The vibrant yellow shards of a broken bowl lay in a mess of spoiled stew coating the rocks below one table.

Where the hell is everyone?

“We’re really late.” AJ pointed out.

“Maybe they went looking for us?”

“With no one behind guarding the school? They better not have.” Louis knocked Chairles II against the brick in case Mitch had fallen asleep on watch again.

“Got your key?”

Fuck.

“I gave it to Aasim before they left.” Clementine sighed.

“Maybe I can pick- Wait.”

She reached her hand through and started fumbling for the padlock, only to be met with the empty latch. A simple flick and the gate swung open, screeching on its hinges.

“They’re fucking with us.” Louis stated flatly.

“Guard saw us coming so they unlocked the gate and hid.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for games.” Clementine growled as she unsheathed her machete. It took her a second to steady her grip. Clem had a feeling she was going to be paranoid for a long time.

They fanned out to search the yard. The school just seemed… empty. In appearance and in energy. Abandoned. Like everywhere else.

Where is everybody?

“Clem!” AJ called, an arrow nocked in his bow as he faced the dormitory building. The door hung slightly ajar, somewhat swaying in the breeze.

“I heard something.”

“This isn’t funny.” Clementine heard her voice echo through the hall.

“Shits going down out there I’m calling a meeting.”

Unsatisfied with the response -or lack thereof- Clementine began to enter the building when her boys appeared at her side.

“Rule number one.” AJ whispered.

“Never go alone.” Louis responded, face serious as the doubt of this being a prank let in all of them.

The air was ice-cold, a chill rolling over Clementine’s skin like a frost. An overwhelming sense of dread leaving her nearly immobile. Her knuckles were white around the worn handle of her machete as she forced each step until she rounded the corner to an unrecognizable hallway.

Metal bars crossed each door frame to frame, screwed deep into the cracked walls, sealing whatever -or whoever- inside without hope of busting through. Black spraypaint tainted each light-coloured door.

Fangs.

Fangs bearing down on each room and the peace of those who inhabited the school.

“What the fuck is going on here…” Louis whispered urgently but Clementine couldn��t find the words to respond, frost turning to sheets of ice as she lost the ability to move her limbs, the only motion coming from her being the movement of her eyes darting from door to door and the ever-rapid beating of her heart as it thumped loudly in her ears.

Not here…

There’s no way… not here…

Clementine’s vision blurred as her head turned to fog. She didn’t feel the blade slip from her grip, but the loud clatter on the floorboards at her feet nearly made her jump out of her skin.

If he found us…

Found them.

“Clem!” AJ yelled as the woman stumbled around to face them through her hazy vision, skin pale as death.

She took a wheezed breath, shaking like they hadn’t seen in a long time. Her voice was small and quiet, but her simple words imbedded a fear in them that could only be a fraction of that she currently felt.

“The wolves were here.”

A single thump came from the door directly to her right.

Violet’s room.

AJ drew his gun at the unmoving door as they all waited with bated breath. Clementine’s eyes locked on the door handle for any twitch of movement but none came. Honestly, if AJ and Louis hadn’t reacted to it as well she might not have believed it was real. It didn't seem real. None of this did.

“Who’s in there?” AJ asked whoever was on the other side, looking between the door and Clementine.

The only response they received was another heavy thump, the door shaking under the impact. Whatever was behind those bars didn’t leave them to the silence. A gurgling snarl came from behind as something threw its body against the door, the hinges barely hanging on but the bars unflinching.

As if some kind of sickening domino effect each door along the hall responded with the same chorus of groans and knocking until every door shook in its weak wooden frame held back only by the foreign reinforcements.

Walkers. A lot of them. There had to be at least ten in each of the rooms.

But where is everyone else?

“Are… Are they in there?” AJ asked as the panic began to show in his voice.

“Is everyone dead?”

No…

Not again…

Not again...

--- A/N: "Na-fa mordeh" is the Farsi word for "Dead One" obviously that's not how it's spelled bc Farsi uses a different alphabet, but that's how it's pronounced. (My beta reader knows Farsi)

#my writing #the walking dead game #the final season #clouis #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg aj #a2

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welcometophu · 5 years

Text

Into the Split: Arrival 6

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Arrival 6

[ Previous | First | Next ]

It doesn’t take much time to get everyone cleaned up and ready to move out. They end up taking blankets from the cabin, and Nikolai hopes that someday he can make it back to replace them. The morning’s warmth faded abruptly with the arrival of a chill breeze, and temperatures have already dropped back to typical for March. Without winter coats these newcomers won’t survive for long; it’s going to be a hard enough trip as it is.

As Nikolai finishes shoving the last of the food for travel into the bottom of his bag, there’s a touch to his back. He turns to find Mattie stepping away quickly. Her smile flickers, and is gone.

“You taste like him all the time,” she says quietly. “Which is not to say that I plan on sipping from your life, just that you taste like lemon, not dreams, and it isn’t what I expected.”

Nikolai blinks. He has no idea how to respond to that.

“I’m not going to travel with you,” Mattie says, pointing behind herself to the shadows lingering in the corner. “It’s too bright, and while I could, I have my own ways of getting around. If they notice I’m gone, tell them I’m not in trouble, and I’m not causing trouble. I promise I will be back.” She pauses, then offers, “I’ll bring food, if I can.”

“I can’t really tell you not to go.” Nikolai can’t order anyone around, no matter how much Seth tries to, for their safety. “But do you really want—”

“I’m not like your Shadows,” Mattie says firmly. “But I am like them. I’ll be fine. They won’t want to swallow me down; I’d give them indigestion. They want light, not more darkness.” When she smiles, her teeth are sharp and bright. “Besides. I make your skin crawl. You won’t miss me.”

Nikolai feels like he should negate that, but she slips away before he can. The darkness wraps around her, enfolding her, and when she turns sideways into it, the shadows swallow her and she disappears.

He’s still staring at the darkness, the bag held loosely in his hands, when Seth comes into the cabin. “Nik, are you ready to go?”

He looks up, nods. “Yeah. Just—” He grabs the box of crackers that Carolyn had found while they were pulling out blankets, and shoves it into his bag. He zips it up and throws it over his shoulders. “I’m ready.”

When they get back outside, everyone is waiting. Mac and Carolyn each have a blanket around their shoulders, and Nikita and Heather are sharing one. Pawel bounces on his toes, and Alaric is nowhere to be seen.

“Alaric’s gone ahead, so now that you’re—” Pawel cuts off. “Where’s Mattie?”

Nikolai doesn’t wait for the conversation, striking out down the same path they left by days before. He whistles once and points, assuming that Alaric will hear and see him. “She left,” he says as soon as Pawel catches up. “She’s neither causing trouble nor in it, so we should let her be.”

Pawel makes a noise that Nikolai interprets as not necessarily trusting what Mattie has said. Nikolai just shrugs because there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

The trip is both easier and more difficult this time. Nikolai knows the path laid out by the map, but Alaric swoops down periodically throughout the day to offer an alternative. Each time they have to consult the map, consider what Seth and Nikolai know of this world versus what Alaric is remembering. Three times they follow Alaric’s advice, but at least twice Nikolai forces them to turn away and shift their path. He’s not sure if they’re making better time overall with all the pauses, but the path itself is less treacherous.

The others walk without complaint, despite the fact that Nikolai knows their feet must hurt, and their hands must be cold. Pawel jogs through the day, keeping moving, bouncing slightly forward. Mac teases him, and at one point they playfully fight along the path until Seth shushes them. Quiet is good; noise could bring unwanted attention.

As the afternoon sun draws closer to the horizon, Alaric drops out of the sky, reforming into himself from the eagle’s wings as his feet touch the ground. It was strange the first time he did it early that morning, but by now, Nikolai is used to it.

“There’s a road over there,” Alaric says, pointing away from the river. “It’ll be easier than sticking close to the riverbank, and it doesn’t smell like it’s traveled regularly.”

Nikolai brings out the map, and he and Seth look closely until they find their spot. The road Alaric mentions is a rural highway, far enough away from the cities and the main roads that it might be safe, if it really isn’t traveled. “You’ll need to keep watch and let us know if we have to get off the road,” he says. “If someone has a car, they’re human.” He trusts that Alaric can smell the fumes of people and vehicles, but at the same time, not often doesn’t mean never. There could always be something.

They pick their way through the trees, and as they reach the road Alaric takes flight once more. He’s visible now that they’re out of the trees, wheeling overhead. Pawel pauses to look at him, his hand shadowing his eyes.

“If it’s this clear, it’s going to be cold tonight,” Pawel mutters. “Are we close to someplace safe for the night?”

Seth’s lips press together tightly; he gives a small shake of his head. Nikita makes a displeased sound at the motion, and Carolyn huddles under her blanket.

“We’ve moved away from our original path,” Nikolai reminds them. “The road is going to be easier, yes, but it’s also further from the known safe location where Seth and I stayed last time we traveled this way. I don’t think that safe house would be much use anyway. It wasn’t much more than a lean-to that kept out the wind. I was hoping there’d be more structure when we found it, but I think it was probably something a hunter set up before the Split.” He pauses, then clarifies, “the deer kind of hunter, not the Talent kind of hunter.”

“We figured,” Mac says.

“The sun’s going down soon,” Seth says curtly. “I know you’re tired, but we need to keep going, and if we spot someplace off the road, someone may need to go scout it to figure out if it’s survivalists or abandoned, and if it’s abandoned if it’d be safe enough to stay there.”

“If it’s been abandoned, why wouldn’t it be safe?” Nikita asks.

“Traps. People who think if they can’t have the place they worked their whole life for, then some random Talent looking for shelter shouldn’t have it either.” Nikolai remembers the first time they found something like that. His mother tried to keep him from reading the vicious words that had been painted on the walls. His father had lost a hand. “We have to be cautious.”

Heather wraps an arm around Nikita, drawing her closer. “We will be.”

“Let’s move,” Seth says, so they do.

As the sun drops lower, the air begins to chill quickly, thanks to the lack of cloud cover. They pause at the end of a dirt road, an old, rusted mailbox hanging off the wood post at the end. Nikolai whistles sharply, and Alaric drops out of the sky, shifting shape again as he lands. He glances at the road. “Thinking of stopping?”

Carolyn is huddled in her blanket, shivering, and Heather and Nikita are staying so close together they have trouble walking. Mac shrugs out of her blanket and hands it to Pawel, fixing it around his shoulders. “I’ll go with you,” she says. “Running, not teleporting, I promise. But at least I’m another pair of hands, and a lethal pair if needed.”

“Watch out for the traps,” Seth warns.

Alaric grins, snarls under his breath. “I’ll sniff them out.” A hound replaces him, and he lopes off, Mac keeping pace easily at his side.

“What do we do now?” Heather asks.

“Move off the road and wait,” Seth says, because there isn’t really anything else they can do.

If they keep going along the rural highway, they’d have to come back if Alaric reports the place is safe. If they start down the dirt road, they’ll have to come back to this point if the place isn’t safe. It’s easiest to just stay put and hope that Mac and Alaric don’t take too long.

Pawel gives the blanket to the girls, who wrap themselves each in one, then stick close together. Pawel picks a flatter stretch alongside the road and starts moving through sets of footwork, punches, and kicks that Nikolai doesn’t recognize. It seems to be letting Pawel focus, and the faint flickers of electricity that had started to trail across his skin fade away as his cheeks turn rose from the effort of his movement.

Pawel stops mid-kick, lowers his foot and shades his eyes as he looks down the road. Nikolai feels it then, the faint rumble that implies something is coming.

“Get further off the road!” Seth shouts, and they scramble down the embankment, running for the trees. Nikolai’s feet are half numb and awkward from the cold; he stumbles but Seth catches him, dragging him to his feet.

When Nikita stumbles as well, Pawel grabs her, hoisting her up in a bridal carry. He’s skinny and strong, but she still slows him down to a walk.

“Put her down and let her move on her own,” Seth yells from the edge of the trees as Carolyn joins them there.

“I twisted my ankle!” Nikita calls back. Pawel tries setting her down, but she shakes her head, and he lifts her again just as cars come into view.

There’s nothing they can do; they’ve been spotted, and the vehicles slow abruptly, stopping at the end of the dirt road. Nikita slides from Pawel’s arms, leaning against him as she stands on one foot.

Something taps Nikolai’s shoulder, and he jerks sideways, turning to see Mattie emerging from the darkness fostered by the trees. “They’re friends,” she says.

All three vehicles are old, covered in rust, painted in ways that might blend in under the trees. There are numerous dents, although the engines rumble quietly once they are stopped; these are well kept.

The passenger door of the front van opens, and a woman climbs out. She is tall and tanned, her dark hair pulled back. She smiles sharply before dropping to her knees, a lion roaring moments later.

There’s an answering baying howl in the distance.

As she stands again to speak as a woman, she calls out, “I am Alia and I am here to take you to Havenhill. Get in, and we’ll be there not long after nightfall. We have beds, and food, and you will be safe.”

Havenhill. They’re from Havenhill.

Seth grips Nikolai’s hand, holding on tight. “This can’t be—”

“She’s Talented,” Nikolai says, and he knows that’s why she changed shape, to prove that she’s not human. It gives them every reason to trust her, even though parts of him are still screaming to be wary. So many questions, from how do they have cars to how they found them.

“Bedrock,” Mattie says firmly. “I told you that, but no one listens. Are you going to get in the van or not? I’ll take the shadows back and meet you there.”

She’s gone before Nikolai can blink.

Another low howl, long and mournful and coming closer, then Mac is there, appearing by the mailbox. She takes two steps back, shouting, “Alaric!”

Pawel lifts Nikita, starts walking toward the van. “Thank you,” he says to Alia, before calling back over his shoulder, “We can trust them. Let’s move.”

The hound skids to a stop, paws raking through the dirt before he transforms back to Alaric. “Mom?” he asks, voice breaking and raw.

Alia turns to look at him, frowning. “No,” she says. She turns away to pull the side door of the van open, while the back doors to the other two cars open as well. “Get in if you’re coming with us. We don’t want to linger.”

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#welcome to phu #welcometophu #into the split #phu twinned #twinned #its arrival

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tpwkking · 5 years

Text

One Night

“Oh my God. Do you see those shoes Laura?” I asked, tapping my friends shoulder to get her attention. She turned with her drink in her hand and moved her focus to where I was pointing.

“Christ. Those were just in the show last week! How did they get their hands on those?”

As we sat and admired, neither of us had the wits to look at who was in fact wearing them, and after a few moments of back and forth i decided i had to go compliment the wearer of the Gucci winter collection that wasn’t even out yet.

“I’ll be right back.” I said, excusing myself while she chatted with the man who had introduced himself to her moments ago.

I made my way over as if i was in a trance, and when i got about two feet away, I was pushed and spilled the contents of my drink on the pair of shoes i had previously planned on complimenting.

“Fuck! I am so so so sorry. I was just coming over here to compliment those and some asshole pushed me and shit. I am so sorry. I know those were just in the show last week and they probably cost a fortune and i probably won’t be able to pay you for them but if i can make it up to you somehow, i will.” i breathed out, rushing to finish my apology before the owner could spew curses at me. To my surprise, they only laughed and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Only shoes darling. No worries.” The man said. I finally looked up at who i was apologizing to and recognized the face immediately as Harry Styles.

“Well now I’m even more embarrassed.” I chuckled in disbelief. “I am so sorry.”

“If you apologize anymore, i’ll be forced to buy you a drink.” he said with a smile. I gave a small one in return and reached for some napkins to hand to him.

“Would it be wrong of me to say sorry one more time just to get a drink to replace the one that is now soaking into your Gucci loafers?” I laughed lightly and looked at him to try and read his expression. Which was hopefully forgiving.

“Not at all.” He smiled.

~~~~

“So you write for Vogue? Tell me, what is that like?” He asked, sipping his drink while holding my gaze.

“So you tour the world and perform in front of thousands of people? Tell me, what is that like?” I respond.

He laughs and sets his drink down. “It’s terrible. I hate it with everything in me.”

“Yes. The adoring fans and adrenaline rush must really put a person in a bad mood.”

He smiles with a glint in his eyes, but it’s gone as fast as it came.

“Really though. I’ve always had an admiration for writers. I mean, you put your soul out for the world to see. I can’t imagine it’s easy at all.” he says, twirling the decorative drink umbrella between his fingers.

“It’s not,” i say with a sigh. “But i can’t imagine doing anything else. I write about life experiences, fashion, love. It’s like a mini novel for every month. I mean, my job is living and writing about it and with that i maybe get to help other people when they read my columns. I love it. I mean, i guess it would be like you writing your music, you know? You’re writing about everything you’ve been through and then performing it in front of crowds of people. Now, I’m not reading about my guide to surviving a New York city night to hundreds, but i think you get what I’m saying.” I finish with a laugh. He laughs with me and nods in understanding.

“I do. I’ll have to look for that guide though. I don’t know how well I’m surviving a New York City night with a vodka cranberry soaking through my shoes.” He says with a smirk.

“If i may, you wouldn’t know about that guide if i hadn’t spilled that vodka cranberry. You should be thanking me Styles.”

We’d been sitting at the same table for thirty minutes, talking and laughing and sharing stories back and forth. Quick flirts here and there but i was just enjoying his presence. He was just as lovely in person as he seems online, and i didn’t want to ruin it by being too forward and scaring him off.

“Touché touché. Now i see that quick wit I’m always warned about with writers. Got anything else up your sleeve i should be warned about?”

I take a dramatic breath and answer. “Only the heart i wear that is crucial to writers best works. Hemingway for instance. Ive often been told i remind people of him.”

“Oh yeah, i can see it a touch in the mustache there.” he says, reaching up as if to play with the imaginary hairs above my lip.

“More than you got going over there! How long you been growing that out? Two, three years?” I ask, joking in my voice.

“Twenty four thank you very much. And i’m very proud of it.” his hand rubs his chin as if there were anything there.

“I’d say i’m impressed, but i think i’d need a magnifying glass to prove there were actual hairs there and not just dust from this ancient floor.” I leaned in as if i were inspecting, and gently grasped his chin to turn it a little to the left and back to the right. “Oh! I think i saw one!” i said laughing when he pushed my hand off.

“Alright alright we get it you smart-ass.” He smiled at me with that glint again, and this time it stays. “Me and my friends were actually going to go back to one of theirs pretty soon. Would you want to come with us?” He asked, his gaze drifting to where his hand was still on mine. I move my eyes to look as well before slowly moving it back to my lap.

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to intrude.” I say, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “And on a slightly related note, i think i wrote a ‘how to not be a groupie’ guide at one point in my life. May have been when i was fifteen, but the same rules apply.”

He throws his head back and lets out a loud laugh before returning his eyes back to mine. Those fangirls were serious about his whole eye contact thing.

“You won’t feel like a groupie. My friends are asses, but the good kind.”

I lean in closer to his face with a sudden burst of confidence. “Promise? You know Vogue doesn’t lie.” I stick out my pinky for him to swear with his own. He leans in as well and hooks his pinky around mine.

“I promise.”

~~~~

“That was you! That was not me!” Harry yelled beside me.

His friend had started a story that involved Harry having too much to drink at a party and giving someones grandmother a lap dance.

“There are pictures Harry!”

I leaned over slightly and whispered to him. “I’d quite like to see those pictures.”

He leaned over and whispered back to me. “They don’t exist love.” I looked at him in disbelief and cleared my throat.

“Excuse me? Could I see those pictures by any chance?” i asked aloud to the room.

“No.”

“Found them!” someone yelled. A phone was thrown, a drink spilled (again), and a curse was yelled before i was on the other side of the room gasping for air as i laughed at the pictures of him dressed as Miley Cyrus, giving a poor old lady quite the show.

“Harold i think you’re in the wrong career field.” i said, still trying to catch my breath from the running and laughter.

“Okay we’ve seen the pictures. Lets move on shall we?” he said with a roll of his eyes and a smile. I returned the phone to it’s owner and made my way over to my original place next to Harry. “You’re a piece of work aren’t you?” he said, throwing his arm around my shoulder. I shrugged.

“I’ve been told once or twice.” i said smiling up at him.

We all sat and talked for a few hours, and i even traded numbers with the girl in the cute snake printed pants next to me. Soon enough people were gathering their things and getting ready to leave, so i took that as my cue to gather my own belongings and say my good-byes. I stood up and continued my conversation with cute pants.

“Where ya going?” Harry asked, tugging the hand that was loose at my side. I looked down at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Home?” I asked with question laced in my voice.

“Without saying goodnight?” He asked again. He looked like a sad puppy.

“You didn’t even give me a chance you loser. I was just going to grab my shoes. I would’ve come back.” i said with a laugh. He pouted and held onto my hand a little bit tighter.

“I’ll come with you.”

I could tell he was a little bit tipsy. Not drunk, but not in the best mindset either. I could see it in his face as he rubbed his eyes like a tired toddler.

As we walked to the front door, he kept his hand in mine and trailed behind me, stumbling every so often. Finally we got there and it was time to face the music.

I turned to face him and stuck my now free hand out, as if asking for a handshake. He looked at it, and then back at me with a soft laugh before bringing his own hand up to shake it.

“I had a very fun time. Thank you for inviting me, your friends are nicer than you let on.” I looked over his shoulder to look at the few lingering, and gave a small wave to which they waved back. He turned his head to look as well before looking at me again.

“Yea, they’re alright.” He looked into my eyes and i held his stare until i coughed and looked down.

“Well, yes, i should get going.” I said, turning to grab my purse, but as my fingers grasped the strap, his hand grabbed my waist to pull me back towards him. Once we were chest to chest he leaned down to attempt to kiss me, but i turned my head at the last minute and his lips pressed against my cheek. I could smell the whiskey on his breath.

He pulled back, slight confusion on his face, but he covered it quickly with a light smile. I gave him a small one back and reached up to cup his face with my hand.

“Goodnight Harry.”

As i walked out the door to my waiting taxi, i replayed the night in my mind over and over and within three minutes i was banging my head against the window. I reached for my phone but remembered i hadn’t taken any videos or pictures as to not ruin the moment or make Harry uncomfortable. As i let out a deep sigh, my phone vibrated with a notification. It was a text from an unknown number. I opened the message and was met with a single smiley face. I smiled and let out a breath i didn’t know i was holding as i typed out a message.

‘Try again when you’re sober Styles <3’

~~~

this was kinda short and kinda meh, but i thought it was cute and would make a good lead up to a part 2? I love the idea of an affectionate, tipsy Harry bringing a nice girl to hang out with him and his friends after meeting at a bar. IDK just something i wrote quick :)

#harry styles #fluff #smut #harry #styles

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sad-trash-writing · 6 years

Text

Bite Me, Ch. 10

AO3 Link

The next months fell into a routine. Schoolwork, full moon runs, Mario Kart tournaments with the pack, hanging out with Jemma. The last week of the semester, Daisy spent in the lab with Jemma, Fitz, and Bobbi. Jemma and Bobbi were working on lab reports and final runs of experiments. Bobbi’s frequently involved sparks or strange-colored smoke puffing out of a beaker, which Daisy tried to avoid going near. Instead, Daisy stared Fitz down while she brutally dismantled his programming project. Each time, he cursed and glared at his computer screen, while Daisy watched the code apparently rewrite itself across her screen. Eventually, she cut him some slack, helped him fix the security leaks, and they teamed up to take apart another student’s program.

The semester wrapped up, and most of the students headed home for break. The Erebus students, however, stayed in the dorms and used the relative desertion of campus to let their freak flags fly. The upcoming winter solstice was a huge holiday for many of them, and there were so many parties that Daisy couldn’t decide which one to go to.

The werewolves were even allowed to run through the campus during the full moon closest to Christmas, so long as they were careful to avoid human students.

Daisy still met Jemma on the second night of the full moon. They moved the location to the quad, since Jemma didn’t have to hide being out at night. They decided it would be a regular thing that they would meet for awhile each lunar cycle. With all their class work, and Jemma’s inability to go outside during the day, the amount of time they could spend together was limited. Hanging out while Daisy was in wolf form wasn’t ideal, but it was something until the Watchdogs situation was worked out.

Jemma was amused by Daisy’s inability to back talk him in wolf form anyway. She even had the audacity to try to play fetch with her one time with a pinecone. Daisy’s wolf-brain was all for it and tried to push her to chase after the pinecone. Human brain was not having it and Daisy hoped her disdain was adequately expressed in her face.

Eventually, the human students drifted back onto campus. Daisy even met a few of them who were in on the secret and had friends in the Erebus school. The new semester started with new challenges. The cold evenings spent with the pack gradually got warmer as spring teased its arrival.

Daisy was getting ready to meet Jemma for a tutoring session in statistics one night. Just before Daisy left the dorm, Jemma texted and said she had to cancel. She gave no explanation, which concerned Daisy, but she realized Jemma was probably busy.

Then the next day, Jemma cancelled on their lunch date. Still, understandable. It was a sunny day and Bobbi still hadn’t been able to find the supplies to make Jemma’s potion. Some of Bobbi’s classes even had to be suspended because they didn’t have any materials to work with.

Then, a few days after that, Jemma cancelled their movie night.

Now, Daisy was getting worried. None of their friends had seen Jemma in a few weeks. Daisy had yet to get an explanation from Jemma and it wasn’t like her to cancel so many things. Could vampires get sick?

After their next meet up was unceremoniously cancelled, Daisy marched upstairs to Jemma’s floor. She was partly annoyed that she kept getting blown off, but mostly concerned that something was wrong. Was it something she had said?

She knocked on the door and waited. And waited. She knocked again.

When she didn’t get an answer, she pressed an ear to the door. She could hear Jemma in her kitchen. The soft clink of a spoon on a ceramic cup gave her away.

“Jemma?”

Daisy knocked again and waited. Eventually, she heard barely audible footsteps approach the door. The door opened a crack and Daisy gaped.

Jemma was always pale, but now her skin was practically translucent. She had deep, purple circles under her eyes and her cheeks looked hollow. Her eyes were unusually dull and clouded. Even her hair looked limp and lifeless.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Daisy asked.

Jemma held the door firmly open only a few inches, to keep Daisy from coming in. “I’m fine. Just a little under the weather.”

Even her voice sounded weak.

“Cut the crap. I asked Bobbi and she said vampires don’t get sick, so what’s wrong?” Daisy demanded.

“Nothing’s wrong. I—”

“Jemma.”

Jemma glared at Daisy, but sighed and let the door open further to invite Daisy in. Daisy stepped in and closed the door behind her, but quickly leveled Jemma with a stare again. She wasn’t getting off the hook. Jemma shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m…I’m out of blood,” she muttered.

“Excuse me?”

Jemma glared at Daisy. “Part of being a vampire is that I need to drink blood, remember?”

“…Yeah.”

“I usually have a steady prepackaged supply delivered from a local place,” Jemma explained. “But the damn Watchdogs have been taking more and more of our supplies lately and I ran out.”

“Shit,” Daisy whispered. “Doesn’t the university—”

“They did,” Jemma interrupted. “I’ve already used up their emergency supply, which they didn’t have much of anyway.”

Daisy sank into the couch while Jemma agitatedly stirred her tea.

“Can you die from this?” she asked bluntly.

For once, Jemma didn’t scold her for asking personal questions. She shrugged. “Possibly. It feels like I’m dehydrated and starving to death at once. I figured it was better for everyone if I just stayed home until this whole situation gets figured out.”

“What if it doesn’t get worked out in time?”

Jemma shrugged again. “I’ve already tried every possible alternative I could find and nothing has worked.”

“Except the original source, right?” Daisy prodded.

Jemma’s gaze snapped up. “What?”

That was the first time Daisy had seen any energy from her all day.

“You haven’t tried getting it from someone who naturally makes it, have you?” Daisy asked, knowing the answer.

Jemma looked like a deer in the headlights. “I—No…”

Daisy held her arms out. “Well, I’m right here. I make, like, a ton of blood every day, right?”

“Less than half a pint, actually.”

“Whatever. I’ll be your donor,” Daisy announced.

“I—I don’t know…”

Daisy marched over to Jemma and stood right in front of her. Jemma stiffened and her pupils dilated. Daisy tried not to be too concerned by that.

“I’m not going to let my best friend shrivel up and die because some douchebags stole your dinner,” Daisy insisted.

Jemma still looked hesitant. “I—I don’t have any phlebotomy instruments here.”

“Yes, you do,” Daisy said. She pointed to the corners of Jemma’s mouth. “They’re those scary fangs you flashed at me when I blew your cover.”

Jemma’s skeptical expression morphed into abject horror. “No! No no no, definitely not. I haven't bitten anyone in…decades! Almost a century! I’m not changing that now.”

“Yes, you are,” Daisy said. “Don’t be a prude about it. You’re possibly dying.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Jemma!”

Jemma cut off her next protest. Her eyes scanned Daisy’s, before drifting lower. Jemma gulped and took a step back.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes. Let me help you, Jemma,” Daisy pleaded. “Next time, I’ll get you a Watchdog to eat.”

Jemma crinkled up her nose. “Not funny. But if you’re adamant, we’re doing this right.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So is this how your species survived the Dark Ages? Dragging people into back alleys and attacking their necks with alcohol and cotton swabs?”

Jemma glared at her, but continued counting. She had two fingers pressed against the inside of Daisy’s wrist and was watching the second hand tick on her watch. Once Jemma was sure Daisy wasn’t going to back down, she had hustled Daisy into her bedroom, where she would be more comfortable, and ran around the apartment gathering supplies. Daisy sat on the edge of Jemma’s bed while Jemma fussed around her.

The anticipation was slowly killing Daisy. Daisy didn’t particularly want to be bitten in the neck, but she had to help Jemma.

Jemma finished her counting and shined a small flashlight into Daisy’s eyes.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” Daisy complained.

“I’m making sure you don’t have any urgent underlying health conditions before I agree to do this,” Jemma explained. “Since you’re not giving me the opportunity to run proper tests, I’m making do.”

“I promise you I’m not anemic,” Daisy said. “Now can we get this over with?”

Jemma paused her inspection and leveled Daisy with a serious look. “If you don’t want to do this—”

“I’m doing it,” Daisy insisted. It was like going to the doctor; no one wanted to do it, because it would be probably be unpleasant, but they had to. Daisy noticed that Jemma’s fingers felt like ice on her wrist and she had a slight tremor in her hands. She really had to do this.

Jemma put the flashlight down and sighed. “I guess everything looks fine.”

“Thank you.”

Jemma pressed her lips together in a tight line. “Are you ready?”

Daisy gulped and nodded. Jemma looked just as nervous as Daisy felt. The only indication that Daisy wasn’t forcing her to do something completely unthinkable was that Jemma’s eyes kept flicking to Daisy’s neck and flashing hungrily.

Daisy scooted backwards on the bed and crossed her legs to make room for Jemma. Jemma slid onto the bed on her knees and sat back on her heels. Her slow movement still made Daisy nearly flinch back, but she restrained herself. Her heart was racing and she wasn’t sure why. Well, it’s not every day she offered herself as a snack to an apex predator.

“Last chance to back out.” Jemma nudged closer to Daisy so her knees were touching Daisy’s crossed legs.

“Jemma,” Daisy huffed. “Bite me.”

She was expecting an offended grimace or unamused tutting in response from Jemma. She wasn’t expecting Jemma to throw herself at Daisy.

She cringed in preparation for the pain, before she realized Jemma was just giving her a tight hug.

“Thank you,” Jemma whispered into Daisy’s neck.

Daisy swore she heard a sniffle. Okay, it was hard to be afraid of an ‘apex predator’ who started crying when she was about to bite someone.

Well, it was hard to be afraid of Jemma in general. Consciously, anyway. Daisy’s instincts didn’t seem to agree.

But Daisy trusted Jemma completely. She gently patted the back of Jemma’s arm in reassurance.

Jemma’s arms loosened from Daisy’s shoulders and one hand slid to the side of her neck. Her icy fingers left a cold trail as they softly searched for something. When they found what they were looking for, they slid down and rested on Daisy’s collarbone and Jemma’s lips replaced them.

Without warning, Daisy felt two sharp jabs in her neck. She bit back the cry of pain that threatened to come out, but it escaped as a whine anyway. Jemma’s other hand rested on the opposite side of Daisy’s neck and her fingers stroked up and down in a comforting gesture.

Daisy tried to not think about what was happening, but she still felt a bit light-headed.

It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It almost felt like Jemma was just giving her a hickey. She alternated gentle sucking and running her tongue along the area. It was only when her tongue touched the two raw puncture wounds that Daisy was reminded what she was doing.

Daisy didn’t realize that Jemma had moved, but suddenly she was straddling Daisy’s lap. The hand that was soothingly rubbing Daisy’s neck slid up, tangled in her hair, and jerked her head to the side. The slight tugging on her hair twinged, but it was a good kind of pain.

Jemma’s sucking got harsher and she lightly scraped her teeth along the skin of Daisy’s neck with the occasional flick of her tongue. Daisy gasped but was distracted from the lips on her neck by Jemma’s entire body being pressed against her chest. Daisy’s heart pounded and a warmth trickled through her body. She couldn’t tell if it was a by-product of the blood loss and light-headedness or something else.

Jemma finally disconnected from Daisy’s neck, pressing a final kiss to the sore spot. She pulled back and her eyes met Daisy’s. They seemed to already have regained their normal brightness, but had a hint of red around her irises. Her eyes flicked to Daisy’s lips briefly, but Daisy might have imagined that. The room was spinning a bit more than she realized.

A hand pressed into Daisy’s chest and pushed her back into the bed.

“Lie still,” Jemma whispered, hovering closely over her. Daisy had the sudden urge to pull her closer.

Then, the weight of Jemma on her disappeared. A moment later, there was a slight pressure on her neck as Jemma pressed a cotton ball into the puncture wounds. Daisy winced slightly, but felt too exhausted to tell her off.

“Rest. I’ll be here,” was the last whisper she heard before her eyes slid closed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daisy cracked her eyes open. The world had stopped spinning at least. She pushed herself upright, only to have Jemma appear in front of her.

“Good, you’re up. Do you feel alright?” Jemma rambled.

Daisy lurched and mumbled under her breath, “Jesus. Give a girl some warning before you pop up out of nowhere.”

“It wasn’t out of nowhere, I was right next to you.”

“Were you just sitting there watching me sleep?”

Jemma flushed. Daisy was glad to see that her skin had some color again. The dark circles under Jemma’s eyes were gone and the fingers that tilted Daisy’s head to the side to inspect the bite marks were warm.

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t pass out for too long,” Jemma defended. “You were only out for about ten minutes, which is normal. Do you need anything?”

Daisy shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind a drink.”

Jemma nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Daisy used her brief absence to take stock of how she felt without Jemma worrying.

She stretched her neck gently. It ached, but not terribly. She ran her fingers over the place she had felt Jemma’s teeth. There were already two dot bandaids stuck over the punctures, probably put there while Daisy was asleep, and the skin around them felt hot. Daisy slid off the bed and over to the full length mirror in the corner. Her legs wobbled a bit on standing.

Surrounding the two tan bandaids was a large, splotchy, deep purple and red bruise. That looked like it was going to be hard to hide. Daisy realized her suspicion earlier was correct and it did just look like a hickey. The only indication that it was anything different was the bandaids.

Jemma slipped back in the room and Daisy tried to look like she wasn’t checking out her bruise. Jemma had a glass of orange juice in one hand and plate with an omelet on it in the other.

“You should lie back down for awhile,” Jemma scolded.

Daisy rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, seriously.”

Jemma frowned and look unconvinced. “At least eat something.”

Daisy was never one to turn down food. She hopped back onto the bed and munched on the omelet. Jemma pulled a chair up beside the bed and watched Daisy eat. She was unusually quiet and Daisy caught Jemma inspecting her a few times like Daisy would pass out any second.

She tried to focus on her food, as opposed to Jemma’s scrutiny or the strange feeling in her chest.

Daisy couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting to Jemma every few seconds, though she tried to stop it. She also felt like she had a magnet stuck under her sternum that was slowly pulling her towards Jemma. Every detail was seared into Daisy’s mind, despite how cloudy she felt at the time. The feeling of Jemma’s chest pressed against her, her lips on her neck, her fingernails scratching Daisy’s scalp.

Daisy flushed and stared at the remains of her omelet. Maybe this was a side effect of vampire bites. Maybe that’s why Jemma didn’t want to do it, initially (and possibly why Jemma was staring so intently).

The room felt too hot and Daisy chanced looking up from her plate, only slightly. He gaze landed on Jemma’s knees and the memory of them wrapped around Daisy’s hips sprung to mind.

Daisy’s mouth went dry and she felt like her face was on fire.

She shoved the rest of the omelet in her mouth, downed the orange juice, and hopped up from the bed.

“Thanks for the snack, but I should probably be going. Lots of homework and all that,” Daisy mumbled.

Jemma shot up from her chair. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? I wouldn’t want you to have a bad reaction after you get home.”

She was standing so close Daisy could feel the fresh warmth Jemma was radiating and…was she wearing perfume or was Daisy imagining it?

“I swear I’m fine,” Daisy said, trying to feign conviction. “I’m probably going to take another nap and then get some work done.”

Daisy shuffled out to the kitchen with Jemma trailing behind. She deposited her dishes in the sink and made sure she had her dorm key, before she remembered something.

“Oh, the full moon’s coming up soon,” Daisy reminded Jemma.

Jemma nodded, but had a smirk on her lips. “Yes, as it does every month.”

“I know that,” Daisy said with an eyeroll, “The pack isn’t going out the night after the full moon this time, but we will be going out the night before, it you want to join.”

Jemma smiled and nodded. “I’ll be in the same place as always.”

Daisy’s heart fluttered at the statement. Which it always did, right? Because she liked hanging out with Jemma.

Daisy mumbled a goodbye to Jemma and then ran out the door to head back to her place.

#skimmons #bioquake #aosficnet2 #bite me fic #vampire au #werewolf au #what two chapters in a row!!!#what next a regular updating schedule? lol

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awesomephd · 7 years

Text

A Bill/Reader Fic

This is an early/on time (depending on what timezone it is?) birthday gift for @theglorydefender that doubles as a thank you gift for being a great source of all things Alex Winter and for getting my lame Lost Boys fic a ton of attention that one time

I don't know what I had expected when I had agreed to help Bill Preston- or as he liked to be called, Bill S. Preston, Esquire- study for chemistry but a heavily disheveled Bill with flour dusting his face and curly hair answering the door that evening was definitely not it.

“Oh man, is it 6 already?” He tried dusting off his shirt and moved aside to let me in, looking even more harried if that was even possible, “C’mon in. I’m sorry but, like, my dad kinda put me on cake duty for Missy’s birthday this weekend and everything I've tried has come out bogus.”

“How about I help you?” I offered as I pulled off my jacket and put my hair up with a spare hair-tie I kept on my wrist. I figured that it would be easier to help Bill so he wasn't distracted while we worked.

“You’d do that for me?” Having Bill look at me like an angel sent to save him made my breath catch slightly but I shook it off with a vigorous nod.

“Y-Yeah. Baking’s basically just chemistry in practice so we can count it as studying... I think...” As I spoke I made my way to the kitchen, freezing in the entryway at the look of everything. It looked like a war zone with flour flung everywhere and the mixer on the counter was the obvious source of the mess. Some eggs had even made their way into the floor and were mixing with the flour.

“Oh dear… Okay. Let’s get this cleaned up. We might be able to use the flour on the counters but we’ll have to toss the rest.”

Bill nodded and went to get us brooms and once he was back we set to work, sweeping up the flour that took up most of the space and dusting it off of appliances. He tossed the flour while I scooped what hadn't gone on the floor into a bowl for later use.

Eventually, we had the kitchen back to a semblance of how clean it had been before Bill’s mishap. “Alright. Just one last thing to clean.” I said as I set my broom aside and wet a paper towel at the sink.

“What else is there?” Bill looked around as if an egg had slipped by us or something.

“You.” I replied with a giggle, putting a hand under his chin to start wiping the flour that had stubbornly stayed on him this whole time.

Bill looked frozen in surprise as I wiped the powder from his nose and cheeks, staring at me while I worked.

I felt my face heating up with a blush under the scrutiny of those green-blue eyes. It dawned on me that we were standing closer now and I had pulled his face closer. With just a little effort I could kiss him but who knew how he’d feel about that. I just bit my lip and tried to balance getting his face cleaned off and not staring at those eyes, those lips, that soft hair… really, how did he end up with such a perfect face?

I was pulled out of my crisis by his hand on my shoulder. He was smiling softly, “Thanks, again, for all your help. You turned a truly bogus evening into a most triumphant one.”

“I've really only helped clean up. We still need to actually bake the cake.” I let out a breathless laugh.

“Right!” Bill pulled away as if he’d completely forgotten about the cake. Meanwhile, I had to take a deep breath to bring myself back to reality before I even moved again.

Things went surprisingly smooth from there with me to read the recipe and guide Bill through the proper order. I even got to turn it around onto why I was there originally, explaining the importance of using the right amount and mixing things in the right order- just like in any other chemistry experiment.

Despite keeping myself focused on the recipe I was still hyper aware of where Bill was as he gathered and mixed ingredients. I had definitely appreciated his looks from afar in class but now, up close, everything was heightened without the distraction of school. I wasn't sure I'd survive the night.

Finally the cake was ready to bake and we slid it in the oven, both of us letting out a joint sigh. Bill broke the silence with a cheer, “Excellent! I knew you’d be an excellent teacher!”

Before I could respond, he swept me up into a hug, spinning us around a couple times. I laughed and held on, almost falling over when my feet touched the ground but his arms held me up.

We stood there for a minute, both grinning and breathing deeply, until Bill’s expression sobered. I frowned and was about to ask what went wrong when he suddenly leaned in and kissed me. It was just a simple press of lips on mine and felt like it only lasted a fraction of a second but it still set off fireworks in my head. I couldn’t believe I had just spent all that time agonizing over Bill and he made the first move.

When he pulled away slightly I felt a little dazed from the suddenness of the kiss, “Sorry. I should've asked but you just looked so cute and happy and I've been trying to keep my hands to myself all night and it’s really hard to when you look so good.”

“Hey,” I cupped Bill’s face in my hands, grinning, “shut up.”

I pulled him in for another kiss, making sure that this time it lasted longer. Now that I had him up close, I realized that he was so much softer than I had thought. Sure, his hair and skin and lips all looked soft but actually getting to feel them under my own lips and fingers was an entirely different experience and my imagination didn’t even come close to the reality.

I gasped softly when I felt his tongue slip out to lick at my lips and that only served to give him access to my mouth, deepening the kiss as his hands dropped to my hips and he pulled me even closer. I wrapped my arms around him in response, moving a hand up to mindlessly play with his curls.

Bill pressed me up against the counter and I shivered, feeling exactly how into me he was- hot and heavy against my hip. His fingers were also flexing against the skin just above my jeans as if he desperately wanted let them roam but was still afraid I would stop this.

When we finally broke apart I moved Bill’s arms to encourage him to explore the skin under my blouse while he kissed along my jaw and down my neck. One of his hands took the invitation happily, running up and down my side, while the other went up to unbutton the top two buttons of my blouse and give him more access to my neck and clavicle.

I couldn’t hold back the soft gasps and moans Bill pulled out of me. I knew I should probably be quiet but his fingers were surprisingly rough yet dexterous- it must have been from all of the guitar practice he and his friend Ted did. Not to mention his mouth on my neck was making me shiver.

I finally decided to let my own hands explore, running up under his shirt and finally feeling the muscles that I had often gotten glimpses of when he wore crop tops. He responded by unclasping my bra and slipping his hand under the cup, massaging my breast eagerly.

Bill started grinding against my hip, panting softly against my neck, and I responded with my hips rocking back with equal enthusiasm. We quickly found a rhythm that drove the both of us crazy.

Just as I felt his free hand drop down to my hip again, teasing at the idea of undoing my jeans and bring us some release, the timer we’d set by the stove started beeping loudly. We both gasped and jumped a good foot apart in surprise before realizing what was happening and breaking into laughter.

Bill turned away to check on the cake, licking his lips, while I set about trying to readjust my blouse and fix my hair. I had to admit defeat and let my hair down but thankfully my clothes weren’t too rumpled.

“I think the cake’s done.” Bill said as he pulled it out and looked around for a toothpick or something to check it with. While he looked I glanced at the clock and did a double-take.

“Have we really been here for two hours?!” I shoved away from the counter, buttoning up my blouse in a hurry, “My dad hates me being out after 8:30! I need to go.”

I gave Bill a quick peck on the cheek and turned to hurry out but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back into a proper kiss. When we parted again he pulled out a pen and wrote on the wrist that he held, “Here. Call me. We can try again and maybe you won’t have to deal with my most heinous kitchen skills.”

I giggled and gave him another peck on the cheek, “I’d like that.” And with that I finally left, staring down at the phone number on my arm the entire walk home. I couldn’t wait to reschedule and see just how our next “study date” went.

#bill s preston esquire #bill s preston #bill and teds excellent adventure #bill and ted #it gets steamy but everything stays above the underwear #probably could've been steamier but idk

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indiefic · 7 years

Text

Snowpiercer Fic: The More Things Change (1/1)

Oh man, so it’s not quite complete, but I hope this is an acceptable birthday present for @blackbatpurplecat

TITLE: The More Things Change AUTHOR: indiefic CHARACTERS: Curtis Everett, Edgar, Anna Gilliam, Gilliam, Grey, Andrew, Tanya, Andrew PAIRINGS: Curtis Everett/Anna Gilliam FANDOMS: Snowpiercer RATING: Mature TIMELINE: Set about two years after the time of the original movie Snowpiercer, though in an alternate timeline where they weren’t all stuck on the train for 17 years. The year is 2033. SUMMARY: This is one potential sequel to Eternal Order. Curtis and Anna were together in the back of the train from the beginning. AUTHOR’S NOTE: This isn't quite done. It still needs some edits and a wrap up before I post it on AO3, but here's a preview.

Eighteen Years Later

“Could you move any fuckin’ slower, Ma?”

Anna spun around. “I swear to God, Edgar - “

He gave her an impish smile and darted around the corner. Anna sighed, dragging her hand through her hair, looking at the bag. Packing. The eternal struggle. It felt ridiculous. The apocalypse happened, and here she was trying to figure out what to pack.

She turned toward the door, yelling out into the common areas. “Edgar, make sure Michael has everything ready!”

They were supposed to have left already, but at this time of year, the days were warmer, so Anna wasn’t particularly bothered. They’d be off soon. They probably didn’t have to worry about being caught in a storm and freezing to death. Probably. Edgar and Michael had saddled the horses, hardy little beasts with thick coats and nimble feet who were at home in this weather. The horses, not her sons - though they were fairly at home in this weather as well. Anna and her sons were headed to The Gathering. It was exactly what it sounded like. People, congregating.

Anna, and the rest of the people on the train, spent two years having Wilford’s propaganda shoved down their throats. All the while their humanity was stripped away. Wilford told them that his marvelous engine was humanity’s only salvation. Anna never saw salvation on that damn train. She watched so many people die, at the hands of each other, and mindless tragedy.

She wondered how long it could have gone on. Forever? She knew that was Wilford’s plan. As she learned later, it had also been Father’s plan. But something changed in Father when he learned that Anna and Curtis were expecting their first biological child. For some reason, the idea of Anna giving birth, raising her child, in Wilford’s hell, was too much for Father. He confessed his compliance with Wilford’s plans, and then he helped architect The Grand Revolution.

Wilford’s engine derailed in what had once been Angola. Father planned it that way, trying to make sure they were as close to the equator as possible. It wasn’t temperate. It only got above freezing for a month or two a year, but compared to the polar regions, it was tropical, especially as the nanites began to degrade. The planet was a bit more habitable with each passing year.

The derailment took so many lives. But after all the carnage, more than two thousand people, from the tail and the front, walked away from the wreckage. Those first years were bleak. Scores more people were lost in the days and weeks immediately after the derailment, victims of the elements. But eventually they made it to the mines.

Angola had a lot of mines before the big freeze. Locals had burrowed deep into the tunnels for shelter. It worked. Below ground, away from the nanites, it was warm. There were thousands of people living there. They didn’t exactly welcome the train survivors with open arms. But eventually, Father and McGregor were able to negotiate for admittance. It hadn’t been easy. Trying to absorb so many new people nearly led to the starvation of the entire settlement. There was so much infighting. The train survivors splintered into multiple factions. There was violent bloodshed.

Over time, humanity found a sort of equilibrium. It took years, but they built long-term, sustainable communities. They had vast hydroponic farms, and some livestock and domesticated animals, dogs and horses. They built an infrastructure that allowed humans to live, rather than simply surviving. With scavenged technology, they had further confirmation that Wilford was wrong. Aside from the mines, there were other human enclaves. Scattered around the world, pockets of humanity existed below ground, waiting for the thaw. Outside, there were many animals and plants that not only survived, but thrived in the new landscape.

But humanity, as a species, was still teetering on the edge. Father estimated there were maybe twenty thousand people alive on the planet. Humanity tended to segment itself into groups. Sometimes colonies were a dozen people strong. Sometimes they numbered near a thousand. But regardless of a colony’s size or history, once a year, for The Gathering, everyone called a truce. It was a chance for the groups to co-mingle, for people to find companionship and mates, to barter and trade. It was how Edgar had met his wife, Nykhor, two years earlier.

Anna knew that Michael, her younger son, planned to propose to Yona this year. Yona already lived at Homestead camp, with Michael, and the rest of the family. But it was traditional to make such overtures at the Gathering. Anna knew that Michael had already spoken to both Yona and Nam about the engagement. Michael and Yona were both seventeen. So damn young. The same age that Curtis and Anna had been when they got together. But Michael and Yona were adamant they wanted to be together. They had spent months scavenging enough metal to cast their own rings.

At the thought, Anna looked at her own finger, now bare. She hadn’t taken the ring when she left. Sighing, she picked up the red dress and looked at it. It had seen better days, but it was still salvageable. How long had it been since she danced at The Gathering? Years, at least. Maybe a decade. She threw the dress in the bag, having no real idea what she was going to do once she arrived at Horizon Camp. They were hosting this year. Curtis and Father had been there for weeks, helping set up, convening councils to negotiate any number of relationships between the two dozen camps that would attend.

Curtis and Anna were ... estranged, for lack of a better word. Or as estranged as it was possible to be when you were still forced to interact with each other on a daily basis. They still helped lead the camp. They were still both respected elders. They had each other’s backs publicly.

But they didn’t share a life.

And they didn’t share a bed. Not for more than a year.

Curtis was very angry about this fact, Anna well knew. She’d tried several times to kick him out before they separated. He’d flatly refused to go. He wouldn’t even fight with her about it. She was finally the one who left.

Their children were nearly grown, self-sufficient. Their fifteen year old daughter, Grace, was the youngest. She was with Curtis, at Horizon Camp, now. When Anna walked out it left a deep rift in her relationship with her daughter. She prayed that over time, they could mend the hurt.

None of the kids were happy with the state of affairs between their parents. It definitely didn’t help that Curtis made it clear to everyone that the breakup was not something he wanted. So far Anna hadn’t given Curtis, or anyone else, an official reason for why she left. Truth was, she didn’t have one. All she knew was that she couldn’t bear the way things were between them, and she couldn’t pretend.

Edgar poked his head in again. “You ready yet?”

“I’m ready,” she said. “Let’s go.”

***

It was a three day trek to Horizon Camp, even with the horses. Their group was several dozen strong and included Anna’s sons, Edgar and Michael, along with Edgar’s wife, Nykhor, and, Yona and Nam. Anna’s friend, Tanya, was along as well.

This was Tanya’s first gathering in years. Her partner had died two winters ago, leaving Tanya a single parent. Tanya said she finally felt like she was at a point that she could think about finding someone new. Anna knew that Tanya felt mercenary about it. But the truth was, with so few humans, it was survival of the species. Tanya had a young son, Timmy, and they were barely scraping by. Anna knew Tanya was hoping that she could find another partner with small children who needed a helpmate. Not exactly wild romance, but in these situations, people tended to go with anything that worked.

It made Anna realize how unique her own situation was. Anna hadn’t been forced to find another person to share the burden. Curtis worked with her. Even separated, they shared their duties and responsibilities. (Though she knew that wasn’t a completely altruistic move on Curtis’s part.) Anna didn’t need to find a new mate, which she suspected was a huge part of why Curtis was as accommodating as he was. He had no desire to push her into someone else’s arms.

But Anna was curious as to what was out there.

She wasn’t ready to become one of the old women who read futures in animal bones at the Gathering, respected and feared, but forever alone.

***

“Oh my God,” Tanya said, pulling her scarf down as she looked at the sea of people and animals spread out before them.

“Welcome to The Gathering,” Anna said, giving her shaggy horse a sharp kick to start him on the winding path down into the valley. Horizon camp was nestled between two enormous bluffs. The camp itself was a warren of tunnels and caves, hollowed out of the bluff’s solid rock. But as was custom, the Gathering wouldn’t take place inside the host camp itself. Instead, it was erected in the valley, a short distance from the camp.

There was a vast sea of tents, mostly made of layer upon layer of heavy canvas and durable waterproof material. The larger tents bore the insignia of the various camps they housed. The camp tents were at the north end. They were big enough to accommodate the dozens upon dozens of people who attended. Predictably, the closer the camps were geographically, to the Gathering site, the more people they brought, and the bigger their tents were. Homestead camp, Anna and Curtis’s camp, had one of the larger tents.

South of the camp tents was the enormous Gathering tent. It was cobbled together with supplies from all of the attending camps and it was large enough to accommodate everyone in attendance. It was where the feasts and festivities would be held as the Gathering progressed.

Ringing the outside of the Gathering tent was the market. There were multitudes of little stalls with people trading their wares. You could find everything from spices to precious metals to domesticated animals to craftspeople. Anna could hardly wait to look around.

And then finally, on the south end of the camp, were scores of small tents. They were there for the sole purpose of allowing people the privacy and opportunity to get to know one another, intimately. Many matches were made at the Gathering. And even if it wasn’t a match, there was a lot of temporary companionship to be found. Anna had never visited one of the small tents, she’d never had reason to. Established couples laid together in the big tents, same as they did back home. But Anna was open to the possibility of visiting one of the little tents this year.

Forcing her attention back to the task at hand, Anna made her way toward the Homestead tent. There was a rough corral set up near the tent. Anna dismounted and handed her horse’s reins to Andrew, who greeted her with a nod. She waited as the rest of the group did the same. Then, she took her bags and walked into the Homestead tent.

She was still looking around, trying to get her bearings when she saw Judith, one of the women from camp. Anna hugged her tightly. “Come along,” Judith said, smiling. “I’ll show you where your family is staying.”

Anna frowned, knowing Judith was leading her to the area of the tent where Curtis was staying. That’s just how it was. In the mind of Homestead camp, she and Curtis were family, and would probably always be that way. Truthfully, Anna didn’t have any compelling reason for avoiding Curtis, especially here. Even inside the Homestead tent, there was safety in numbers. And, as always, there was safety to be found at Curtis’s side.

Judith led them to a small area, segmented off with sheets of canvas. There were a dozen pallets. Anna recognized Father’s, Curtis’s and Grace’s bags on sight. She took the pallet between Curtis and Grace, knowing that Michael wasn’t going to take it. He was well aware that his father snored. And Anna wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially Tanya, who would be too polite to complain. Anna threw down her pack and resolved to get along with Curtis as best she could.

Nykhor and Edgar took pallets next to each other, consolidating them into one big pallet as was customary for bonded couples. Then Anna watched as Nam pointedly took the pallet between Michael and Yona, which led to a lot of yearning looks between the lovebirds. Anna forced herself not to roll her eyes. It took considerable effort. Tanya was the last to choose a spot, near the edge of the group. It would afford her the most privacy.

***

Anna was walking around outside, trying to get the lay of the land when she spotted Curtis. She recognized the scarf wrapped around his head. She’d knitted it for him years ago. It needed to be burned, but he refused to part with it. Between the scarf, the dark goggles he wore, and his ridiculous beard, very little of him was visible. He was standing across the open area, between the camp tents and the market. The space was dotted with fires. There were dozens of people warming themselves, sharing meals, talking, negotiating.

Curtis saw her too. She watched as he extricated himself from the conversation he was having, walking to her. He looked down at her, his chapped lips pursed tightly together. “How was the trip?”

“Good,” she said, hating how awkward it was talking to him. “Quick. No problems.”

He nodded.

“How have the negotiations gone?”

He shrugged, frowning. “Franco tried to short us on the seeds, but we finally reached an agreement.”

Anna didn’t say anything. But she wondered if the negotiations had involved knives. She knew Curtis hated Franco, the leader of the Velt camp. He’d been one of Wilford’s biggest cronies at the head of the train. She knew Curtis was still looking for an excuse to shank him when no one was looking.

Anna stamped her feet, trying to get the blood moving. “Where’s Father?”

“He’s in the Juke tent,” Curtis said, nodding to the tent next to the Homestead tent. ”Shooting the shit with Harris.”

Anna suppressed a sigh. When Father and Harris got together, they could talk for days. She looked up at Curtis and nodded to the Homestead tent. He followed. As they entered the tent, they unwound their various scarves. Anna removed her gloves. There was a large fire at the very center of the tent, with a hole overhead for venting. There weren’t many people in the tent. Most were outside visiting and bartering, like Tanya and the rest had done. Anna took a seat on one of the logs near the fire. Curtis did as well, sitting close, but not too close.

She looked at him. His hair was absurdly too long. It had been for quite a while. But now, sections of it were braided. Anna assumed that Grace was probably responsible for that. Anna managed to prevent herself from sighing in irritation. His hair, braids and all, was tied back in a messy knot. His beard needed to be trimmed. He looked like a grizzly. Curtis had grown significantly since their first meeting, so many years ago on the train. He probably wasn’t any taller, but he was definitely heavier. She knew his body was thickly muscled, his chest covered with dark hair. Not that she’d seen it recently. But she knew his body like she knew her own.

She thought back to when she’d first met him, that horrible day when she tore Edgar out of his arms. It had been the worst possible situation. She saw the horrors Curtis was capable of. But, afterward, she saw his sacrifice. His remorse. She was attracted to him, then, emotionally as well as physically. He had a good heart. He was cute. He’d been fit, but lanky. He still had spots, a boy in so many ways.

It was hard to look at Curtis now and see that boy in the man before her. She remembered what he looked liked, mostly because Michael resembled him so closely. She hadn’t seen Curtis without a beard for years. His hair was graying at the temples, and the corners of his eyes and his forehead were starting to crease with lines. If anything, he was more attractive now than he’d been when they first met. Damn him.

She looked away. “How has Grace been?”

“Okay,” he said tightly. “One of Hopper’s boys, from Camp Three, has been spending a lot of time with her.”

Anna arched an eyebrow. “Courting?”

Curtis grunted noncommittally, frowning. She knew he thought Grace was too young. And he had a point. Anna knew very well what could happen when people got involved so very young.

He shifted uneasily on the log and said, “I was surprised to see Tanya.”

Nodding, Anna said, “She’s looking for a new partner. She needs help raising Timmy. I don’t know how determined she is.”

“Is she wanting to leave Homestead?” he asked. When young couples joined households for the first time, there were complex negotiations and social rituals. In the case of people who lost their mates and found new ones, it was significantly more relaxed. It could be arranged however was most convenient. If a couple simply broke up, the half of the couple who wanted to find a new mate typically had to go. The camps were too small to bring in a new person and potentially create a triangle. No one had the time for that kind of distraction.

“I don’t think she wants to leave camp,” Anna said. “It will all depend on whether or not she can find someone. There’s no way of knowing what situation might work best.”

They were both silent for a long time. Curtis threaded his fingers together, leaning forward, staring into the flames. “And you?” he asked tightly. “Are you looking for a new partner?” He turned his head and met her gaze, his eyes narrowed, lips pursed into a thin line.

She held his gaze evenly. “I don’t know,” she said, being completely honest. “I’m looking for ... something. I’m not sure what it is.”

She could see the muscles in his jaw stand out. He was angry. He didn’t like her answer. But that wasn’t her problem.

***

Anna was lonely. Not that she was ever really alone. Even with so few humans in the world, they tended to congregate together so closely that she was almost never actually alone.

But she was lonely. She had been for a very long time.

Anna missed intimacy, both emotional and physical. She’d trade two laying hens for a decent orgasm that wasn’t complements of her own fingers. She and Curtis had been separated for a long time, and during that time, she’d been alone. She hadn’t sought out physical companionship back at Homestead camp. She’d known everyone there for years, which was its own kind of deterrent. And even if she was physically attracted to someone, she just couldn’t. It would be an unmitigated disaster to start something right under Curtis’s nose. In theory, Anna was free to do whatever she wanted. In practice, she’d rather not start a war in confined quarters. Not that she thought Curtis would do anything violent. But he would be angry. And hurt. Fuck. He looked like a beaten dog enough as it was. Even she wasn’t cruel enough to have an affair, with someone else, in view of Curtis. She knew how he still felt. He made that very clear.

But now she was at the Gathering, and that led to opportunities that otherwise would not exist. Anna wasn’t exactly on the prowl, but she paid a lot of attention. She, Yona, Nykhor, and Tanya were working their way around the market. Some of the handicrafts were divine. There was jewelry of gold, silver, and precious stones. She found a stall with different types of yarn and knitted items. There were tattoo artists, and people who specialized in intricate hair braiding. (Anna assumed that’s where Grace must have gotten the idea to do that to Curtis’s hair.) There was every type of food Anna could imagine, and several that left her baffled. There were three different blacksmiths, all with their wares and skills on display. She looked at the sets of tools, thinking how useful they would be to Curtis.

She had to remind herself that she wasn’t shopping for Curtis.

“Anna?”

Anna turned, looking at the stall, heaped with heavy leather gloves and coats. She smiled broadly at the vendor. “Landon.”

She walked over to him and they grasped hands briefly. She’d known Landon Quinn for years. He lived at Horizon camp and they had often bartered in the past. Landon was a good man, kind and fair. Anna knew he had lost his wife three years ago. He’d forgone the Gathering for several years and she was glad to see him participating. He looked well. He was incredibly tall, and lean, with close cropped reddish blond hair. His eyes were the lightest blue she had ever seen, and they sparkled with mirth and crinkled at the corners.

Anna and Landon had been chatting for a long time when someone grabbed Anna’s arm and yanked. Anna twisted, looking at her daughter. “What?”

“I need to talk to you,” Grace said sullenly.

Anna made her apologies to Landon and followed Grace into the large Gathering tent. There were people milling around, sharing food and ale, but it was far from crowded. “Yes?” Anna said, unwinding her scarf.

Grace sighed dramatically, pulling off her hat. Anna took note of the fact that Grace had obviously visited one of the artists who specialized in hair since she arrived at the Gathering. Her hair couldn’t have been more than a couple of inches long, sticking up in uneven spikes. Anna frowned, thinking how much Grace looked like Curtis.

“You have to talk to Dad.”

Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “Is this about Hopper’s boy?”

Grace’s cheeks colored with a blush and she said, “Devon. Yes.”

“Grace,” Anna said quietly, “you’re so young.”

Anger flared in Grace’s eyes. “You were young too when you and Dad got together.”

“Yes, well,” Anna conceded, “we weren’t quite as young as you.”

Growling, Grace stalked away.

***

It was dark when Anna and Tanya made their way to the Gathering tent. Yona and Nykhor had left earlier, to find their respective mates. There was an enormous feast in progress. Anna and Tanya took a seat with other people from the Homestead camp, but Anna was relieved to see that the groups intermingled freely. Edgar and Nykhor were talking with a group of people from the Horizon camp. Anna saw that Grace was curled up against some boy, presumably Hopper’s son, Devon. He was a cute kid, but he looked so young. Anna made a mental note to find Hopper later and talk to him.

Juke camp specialized in producing alcohol of various kinds and they’d gone all out for the Gathering. Anna had a mug of absolutely divine ale, and Tanya had a small cup of brandy, which she shared with Anna and Yona.

By the time Anna was full, she was fairly tipsy as well. Tanya was too, and Anna was relieved to see her laughing and smiling. Yona was busy talking to Michael, so Anna pulled Tanya along with her as they made their way around the room, stopping to talk to people Anna knew. Having been a camp leader for so long, Anna knew a lot of people. Tanya’s life had been much more insular, so Anna figured that making a number of introductions would not be amiss.

They ran into Landon again who ended up following them back to their seats and chatting with the group for several hours. Anna was aware of Curtis moving along the periphery of the group. Like her, he knew almost everyone present as well.

Anna noticed Fisher, a stunning redhead from the Serrin camp, paying quite a bit of attention to Curtis. Anna hated that it bothered her, but it did. Somehow in all her contemplation of finding a new partner for herself, she’d never considered that Curtis might find someone new. She supposed it was only fair. Even if she did hate it.

The night wore on, and Anna made to leave. After so many years, she knew that the Gathering was a test of endurance. And staying up all night the opening night wouldn’t do her any favors. As she left, Yona and Tanya came with her. Edgar and Nykhor followed closely. Anna looped one of her arms through Father’s and made his farewells for him, dragging him toward the exit. Left to his own devices, he’d talk all night. His health was somewhat precarious and Anna knew he needed rest. As they started to the Homestead tent, she was aware of Curtis, Nam, Michael, and Grey trailing at the back of their little group.

It took a while to get everyone settled. Anna looked pointedly at Grace’s empty pallet and then over to Curtis. He nodded and left without a word. Everyone was mostly settled when Curtis returned with a sullen Grace in tow.

Finally, everyone was settled. There was still raucous noise outside, though it seemed to be tapering off as the night got colder. Anna could hear other Homesteaders returning to the tent and bedding down for the nights. Anna lay there in the dark, mere inches from Curtis. She hadn’t been this close to him in more than a year. It was strange, but she had little choice.

***

Hopper frowned as he looked up and saw Anna, but he didn’t seem shocked. Without a word, he pulled open the flap of the Camp Three tent and held it for her. She entered. The inside was configured slightly differently from the Homestead tent, but not much.

Hopper led the way to the fire at the center of the tent. Anna followed. Hopper was a big guy, taller and broader than Curtis, but older and softer too. His dark hair was receding and his beard was mostly gray. As far as Anna knew, Hopper’d had two wives. He and his first wife had been on the train with four or five kids. Anna had vague memories of them, crammed in the Tail with everyone else. His wife left him and the kids, about the same time that the train survivors started splintering into factions. Hopper found a new partner, with kids of her own, and then they had several more together. Anna had no idea how many children he actually had, but a lot. He could probably field his own baseball team. If you included his grandchildren, he could probably field three teams.

There were women and small children milling around the interior of the tent. Anna recognized some of them as the wives of Hopper’s elder sons. Anna took a deep breath and reminded herself that humanity was spinning on the brink of extinction. People did whatever they had to do in order to survive. Hopper was a good man, by current standards. He made sure his family was protected and provided for. But she knew that he had a bias toward his sons. They were more highly valued than his daughters. And the wives of his sons seemed like little more than maids, nannies, and broodmares.

Hopper provided safety. No one starved. Everyone was looked after. But some people were certainly more equal than others.

Anna took a seat on a stump. Hopper took a pouch out of his pocket and rolled a cigarette for himself. Anna had no idea if it was tobacco or something else, but she watched as he lit it and took a drag.

He looked over at her. “Curtis already came to talk to me.”

Anna nodded. “Did he say anything, or just threaten?”

Hopper laughed. “Mostly he threatened. Not that I blame him. I have two girls that age. You have to look out for them. But Devon is a good boy.”

“Yes, well,” Anna said pointedly, “Grace has more courage than sense, and a mind of her own.”

Hopper narrowed his eyes and nodded. Anna could almost feel him weighing whether he thought Grace was going to birth enough grandsons to be worth the headache she would doubtless be. Not to mention her pushy parents, and mouthy mother. “I talked to Devon, but I’ll talk to him again.”

“I appreciate it,” Anna said. She stood and made her way to the entrance. She carefully wound her scarves around her face and pulled her hood down over her head. She pulled on her gloves. As she slipped outside, she could still feel the biting cold.

She walked around the market again. It seemed like the wares in the booths were forever changing. She took time to marvel at the goods. She stopped near the edge of the bonfires, searching for Father, hoping she didn’t see him. She hoped he had the sense to be inside one of the tents, out of the weather.

Anna didn’t see Father. But she did find a familiar face. She saw Curtis at one of the fires. He was with several of the leaders from Serrin camp. Nam and Andrew were with him, along with Andrew’s son, Andy. And Fisher was there. She was sitting next to Curtis, turned toward him, watching him intently as he spoke. Anna could feel herself frowning behind her scarves. She forced herself to turn away.

***

“Here you are,” Tanya said, taking a seat on the bench. Anna was sitting with Father, and had been for hours. He’d been holding court, and she’d kept him company, along with Grey, who was often at Father’s side.

Anna smiled and patted Tanya’s arm.

Tanya gave her a look. “Oh, I see. You’ve been in the spirits again.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anna said.

Tanya didn’t look convinced, but rather than argue, she merely went and got bowls of soup for everyone. As the evening wore on, more people joined them. Yona and Michael took seats on the opposite side of the circle and Landon sat on the ground between Anna and Tanya. They all talked. Anna and Landon flirted. There was more touching than was strictly necessary, and a lot of laughing.

Anna knew she was playing with fire. She was lonely and longing. She wanted to get laid. She was still fuming about Fisher hanging on Curtis earlier, even though she knew it was ridiculous. Anna was done with Curtis. At least that’s what she told herself. She wanted someone new, something new.

Fuck. That’s all she wanted. A decent fuck.

Anna knew that Landon was taken with her. She had no idea what his intentions were, but she could guess. He was a solid guy, who had been without a partner for several seasons. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he why he spent so much time at their fire. Odds were that it wasn’t for a quickie in one of the little tents.

As she started to sober up, it all began to feel like too much.

“I need some air,” she said, mostly to Tanya.

Tanya caught her hand, but Anna shrugged her off, heading for the entrance to the tent.

People were coming and going in droves. It was a novelty for there to be a crowd large enough to get lost in, for there to be actual strangers. Most faces were familiar, even if Anna didn’t know their names. She pulled her scarf around her face and stumbled out into the market.

The air was bracing and biting and cleared her head a bit. There were lots of people out here as well. The pathways were lit with torches, and vendors were still out, though most of the open stalls had food and drink, and more adult items.

Anna was standing in front of a stall, looking at a pair of honest to god satin pants, when she became aware of someone standing at her side. She looked up at him and he smiled down at her. She didn’t know his name, but she’d seen him around. He was from one of the small camps. He was young, but probably a good five years older than Edgar. He was tall and thin, with a smattering of facial hair and eyes so dark they looked black in the torchlight.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

***

It’s had been a while since she was last intimate, but it was decades since she had a new partner. And honestly, this clandestine encounter wasn’t what Anna expected. Not that she really knew what to expect. But this overeager boy trying to ram his tongue down her throat was far from enjoyable. She pushed at his chest with increasing force until he finally got the hint and pulled back. He was breathing hard, bright spots of color on his cheeks and he looked very pleased. She honestly had no idea why.

He leaned in again and she resigned herself to it. She tried to gentle him, to coax some technique out of his enthusiasm, but it was a lost cause. When his hands started roaming, pawing her through her coat, she pushed him away again. He seemed to think it was some game and pressed in harder.

She shoved him. He took a stumbling half step backwards, blinking at her, his brow furrowed.

“Stop,” she said in a tone usually reserved for Council meetings.

He blinked at her and then frowned, shaking his head in disappointment, pride stung. Cursing under his breath, he turned away.

Anna stood there for a moment, trying to take stock of herself. She righted her coat and unwound her scarf with the intention of fixing it. Something caught her eye and she stopped, looking at Curtis, standing on the far side of the path.

Anna groaned inwardly. Of all the people who could have possibly witnessed that, Curtis was the absolute worst choice. He walked over to her, shaking his head. She was standing between two of the stalls, out of the wind, and mostly in shadow. It wasn’t the best hiding place, but at least they weren’t completely on display.

“So that’s what you’re into now?” he asked, staring down at her.

She ignored him, concentrating on her scarf. “And how is Fisher this evening? She seems quite taken with you.”

“At least Fisher’s my age.”

She glared up at him.

He didn’t back down. His pride had been stung, grievously so. “That’s what you left me for? Back alley quickies with little boys?” he asked, leaning in toward her, bracing his hands on the rough wooden planks on either side of her head, looming over her.

He was so close she could clearly see the muscles in his jaw standing out. His words were angry, skirting along the edge of insulting, but she knew it was jealousy, insecurity. He looked down at her, flinching like he was bracing himself to get hit.

She understood. Her normal reaction to being baited in this manner would be to sock him in the mouth as hard as she could. She’d done it before.

But right then, hitting him wasn’t at the top of her list.

She ... yearned. Whatever spark of longing prompted to give that boy a try, it burned ever brighter with Curtis’s proximity.

He seemed to read the change in her expression and he reacted quickly. His stance became both more predatory and more protective. He twisted slightly, so his body blocked the view of anyone who might walk by. Swearing under his breath (she wasn’t sure if it was a curse or a prayer) he ducked his head, kissing her hard, pressing her back against the side of the stall.

She was overwhelmed, shaken ... relieved. This is what she wanted. This is what she was looking for. To be kissed by someone who knew what the hell they were doing, who knew what she liked. She pulled at him, and he growled, pressing into her harder.

Her hands found their way to the closures of his coat, but, unexpectedly, he pulled away. For a moment, she was bewildered, bereft. Then he was dragging her along behind him, pulling her down the path toward the sea of little tents. There was absolutely no mistaking what his intentions were and she could have wept with relief. She could feel the beat of her pulse thrumming through her entire body with each step.

He found an empty tent and pulled her inside. As he secured the tent closed, she was stripping out of her coat and pants, kicking away her boots. It was very dim in the tent. The torches burning outside gave barely enough light to see the vague shape of his outline. But she could see him struggling to get free of his own coat.

She reached for him and he lunged toward her, kissing her again, biting at her lips, like he was trying to seal the deal before she could reconsider. As if she was going to do that. She tugged at his shirts, pulling them over his head, fighting to get at his skin. He was finally bare and she pulled him close, scratching her nails down his back. Fuck. She loved the smell of him, the feel of him against her. His hands on her were rough, insistent, and it was exactly what she wanted.

He urged her onto her back, and she dragged him over her for a moment. He was trying to pull away, and she bit his shoulder, hard. He cursed. She wondered if he would stop her. It had never been like this between them, never so raw. But he seemed to want it as much as her.

He growled, grabbing her hands, pinning them to the ground on either side of her hips. He managed to shove her long shirt up until she was bare and then he worked his way down her body. Finally, his mouth was there, hot and wet between her legs. She shivered, her back arching as she pulled her knees up and apart, giving him more room. He released her hands, instead grabbing her hips, his fingers biting deeply into her as he licked and sucked at her.

She was already on edge, so keyed up, and Curtis had always been good at this. In no time, she was gasping, coming, tugging his hair.

“Jesus Christ, Anna. Horny?” He sounded ridiculously pleased with himself.

“Shut up and fuck me,” she snapped.

He laughed, but ducked his head, licking her again. “Like this?”

She groaned, rolling her hips.

He didn’t tease. As obvious as her own sexual frustration was, his wasn’t any better. Anna bit down on her bottom lip, screwing her eyes shut as he worried her clit with his tongue, using two fingers to stroke inside her. Her breath caught and she braced one of her feet on his shoulder, arching her hips against his mouth. He gave her exactly what she wanted, bring her to another hot, shuddering peak.

She was boneless, lying in the pile of furs, listening to Curtis stripping out of his clothes. As soon as he was bare, she reached for him, stroking her fingers lightly over his rigid length. She heard his breath catch and his muscles corded. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, nipping at his jaw.

“Seems like I’m not the only one who wants this.”

She could hear him swallow thickly. “Yeah, well - “

She ducked her head, taking him into her mouth and whatever he had been planning to say died with a gasp. She worked him over with her hand and mouth, stroking, sucking, licking. She could hear his ragged breathing, feel his fingers tangled in her hair. She knew he was close, but with a sudden movement, he pulled away.

“No.”

Before she could protest or question, he was grabbing her hips, turning her so she was on all fours, facing away from him.

“I want to come inside you.”

He moved behind her, shoving at her knees with his own, forcing her stance wider. And then he was pushing into her, making her gasp.

He went still for a moment. “Fucking hell.”

She tightened around him, rolling her hips and pushing back against him, taking him deeper. His breath caught sharply and he leaned forward, blanketing her back with his body. He nipped along her shoulder as one of his hand reached around and rubbed her in time with his thrusts. Helpless, she whimpered, pushing back against him.

“Yes, Anna, yes, fuck,” he said and then grunted, driving into her before going still.

Several long moments later, he took a deep shuddering breath and pressed a hard kiss to the side of her neck. He was too heavy and her arms were shaking. She slowly slid to the ground, dislodging him in the process.

She moved to roll away from him, but he immediately dragged her close again, sucking at her neck. He used his fingers, whispering the filthiest words to her, making her shiver. He told her every dirty thing he’d imagined during the time they’d been apart. She always knew he was creative, but jesus. She clawed at his arm, keening as her release washed over her.

They lay there in the dark for a long time, not really moving. They weren’t situated particularly close together, but the tent was small and his arm was thrown around her waist. Anna knew she was going to have love bites on her neck, and an actual bite on her shoulder, which stung like hell. She felt shaky, exhausted, in the best possible way. Mostly, she just wanted to go to sleep, but that wasn’t really an option. Anna wasn’t entirely certain what just happened between her and Curtis, but she had no desire to make it public. And if they spent the night in the tent, everyone would know.

In the dark, she searched for her clothes, pulling them on. She was surprised he wasn’t already asleep. Usually he was out like a light when he got off. She knew he was awake from the sound of his breathing. Anna knew all of Curtis’s idiosyncrasies and that was not what he sounded like when he was asleep. He was lying there in the dark, watching her as much as he could.

She pulled on her boots and pushed through the tent flap without another backward glance. She wondered if he would stay there, or if he would go back to the Gathering tent and search out Fisher. The thought of that made her blood boil.

Anna headed for Homestead tent, entering as quietly as she could manage. Last night’s festivities must have been too much for a lot of people. Despite the fact that it wasn’t terribly late, a lot of the pallets were full. People had called it an early night. Edgar and Nykhor were curled together. Anna could make out Tanya’s shape, and Grace’s. In the dark, Anna searched for her small bag and then walked back out to the center of camp, to the women’s bathhouse. The wind had picked up and it was biting cold.

There were a couple of women in the bathhouse. Anna didn’t recognize either of them. She glanced in the lone mirror. She was a mess. Her hair was askew, her color high, lips swollen. She pulled down the edge of her scarf and frowned at the lovebites. They would be worse tomorrow.

Carefully, she stripped off and washed herself, thankful that at least she doesn’t have to worry about birth control. She’d been pregnant, not long after Grace was born. But she lost the baby late in the pregnancy. She assumed there must have been too much damage. She and Curtis tried for years afterward, to no avail. Anna couldn’t have more children. She never thought she’d see that as a blessing, but tonight she certainly did.

By the time she made her way back to Homestead tent, Curtis was lying in his own pallet, next to hers. It was dark and they didn’t speak, but she had the sense he was pleased when she sank down onto her pallet next to him.

***

Anna woke up slowly, shivering with delight, pressing closer to him in search of more warmth. It took her a moment to realize that she should have been alone. She knew, without opening her eyes, that she was pressed against Curtis, his arm wrapped around her waist. Sighing, she opened her eyes and pushed herself up on her elbow. It was cold. She could easily see her breath. She had no doubt that during the night, she’d scooted closer to Curtis for warmth. A lifetime of habits were hard to break, especially when she was still sore from their enthusiastic coupling.

Anna made sure to be gone before Curtis roused. She really didn’t want to think about what last night might possibly mean for future awkwardness between them. He hadn’t said anything at all last night, and she was grateful.

The sex had been different. It wasn’t that they’d never been enthusiastic before, but it had certainly been a while. And it had never been quite that raw, as if all their jealousy, anger, and hurt had finally been given an outlet.

Anna knew that sleeping with her ex, especially at the Gathering, wasn’t a great idea. But Curtis was good in bed. And for as much baggage as he brought to things, there was so much less negotiation necessary. He already knew where to touch her and how. And, as much as it galled her to admit, she trusted Curtis in a way she could never trust some random stranger. Anna was all for sexual freedom and assertiveness. But she knew that feeling some measure of safety was necessary for her to really enjoy sex. Curtis was a shortcut. He was easy. And he knew how to get her off.

Anna knew that she could eventually find companionship with someone else. But it would take time and effort. Truth told, Anna had no idea how to even begin to find a new partner.

Anna and Curtis had never courted, never flirted. They’d been thrown into the rattling hell together. They’d barely said a civil word to each other when Anna decided she wanted Curtis, and took him. To this day, she still didn’t know why she chose him, especially after everything that happened with Edgar.

But she chose Curtis. And, even now, after everything that had happened between them, she didn’t regret that decision. Curtis never complained, never balked. She led and he followed without question. They became parents to Edgar. And then Anna fell pregnant. They’d still been trying to eek out an existence in the Homestead mines when Michael was born. A couple of years later they had Grace. And then the baby they lost. Ten years of Anna’s life was gone in the blink of an eye. She and Curtis had mouths to feed, people to care for. Their own children, as well as the camp itself.

But one day it had all been too much for Anna. She’d been drowning. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t keep living the strange half life she’d found herself trapped in. So she left. Not that she went far. In physical terms, she slept around the corner from Curtis every night.

The space seemed like a relief at first, despite how it wounded Curtis and the children (and Father too, though he tactfully refrained from saying much.) The separation gave Anna the time she’d never had to figure out who she was - figure out what she wanted. It also hurt. And she thought maybe that was part of the appeal. The sadness, the guilt. All of that followed her when she left Curtis. It wasn’t him. It was her. She knew that.

Curtis knew it too. That was the kicker. He understood the darkness inside her, and he’d never turned away from it. He’d never blamed her for the sadness and anger she couldn’t control. But she blamed him. She knew that was fucked up, but it was how it was.

Ann knew that rekindling a relationship, even a purely physical one, with Curtis was loaded. She understood that it could never be casual between them. They knew each other too well.

Then and there, Anna made a promise to herself that it wouldn’t happen again.

She would not sleep with Curtis again.

***

“Fuck, Curtis,” she hissed, scratching her nails down his chest as she rode him through her orgasm. His fingertips dug into her hips, keeping her moving. They were both covered in sweat. It was the middle of the goddamn day and they were screwing in one of the little tents like a couple of horny teenagers.

Both of them had places to be, things to do. And here they were, banging each other’s brains out. And now it, was light, they could see each other, watch each other’s reactions.

His teeth were bared in a grimace, his brow furrowed in concentration. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was in pain. But she knew that wasn’t the case.

She raked her hair back from her face, looking down at him as she bit down on her bottom lip. “Come for me, Curtis,” she said as she moved on him. His throat moved as he swallowed, watching her closely. “Come inside me.”

He groaned, hissing through his teeth, slamming her hips down against him.

She sat there for a moment, catching her breath and then slumped over to the side, coming to rest on her back next to him. They both stared at the top of the tent. He turned and she knew he was looking at her, but she refused to look at him.

She heard him open his mouth. “Don’t say anything,” she snapped. She looked at him. He closed his mouth, but then leaned over and kissed her, hard. She kissed him back, biting at his lips.

She finally pulled away. She couldn’t look at him. Cursing under her breath, she grabbed her clothes and started pulling them on.

***

She stopped by the bathhouse again, to clean up. She took some care to arrange her scarf to cover the lovebites, both old and new. Luckily everyone wore thick scarves, inside and out.

She headed for the Gathering tent and quickly found Tanya. The eternal pot of stew, as Father called it, was warming over the fire, as usual, and Anna scooped herself a bowl. She was starving. She took a seat at a table next to Tanya, who narrowed her eyes at her, but didn’t say anything.

Anna blew on her spoon of stew. “How are you liking the Gathering?”

“Oh, I’m liking it just fine,” Tanya said, giving Anna a sidelong look. “How are you liking it?”

Anna didn’t miss the censure in Tanya’s tone. She pursed her lips together.

Tanya leaned in closer. “I thought you were supposed to be looking for a new partner,” she whispered, “not screwing the hell out of your ex in those dirty little sex tents out there.”

Anna groaned and took a bite of stew, to spare herself having to respond.

“Do you have any idea how unhygienic those tents are?” Tanya demanded. “You’re going to end up catching crabs.”

“Do you even remember the train?” Anna asked around a bite of food. She rolled her eyes. “Crabs are the least of my worries.”

Tanya crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “You should be worried about Curtis,” she said flatly. “You may be blowing off steam, but that boy doesn’t have a clue how to have casual sex with you. He can’t play whatever game it is you’re trying to play.”

Anna set her bowl down on the table with a clang. She’d spent nearly two decades with Curtis. They had three children together. She sure as hell didn’t need anybody trying to tell her about him. “He’s not a child,” she snapped. “He knows what he’s getting into.”

Tanya, undaunted, leaned in close. “He loves you,” she said tautly. She frowned. “And you’re still as confused as you’ve ever been. Like a dog in a manger.”

“I’ve never understood what that damn saying means,” Anna swore petulantly.

“It means you don’t want him, but you don’t want anybody else to have him either. You were fine minding your own business until Fisher started sniffing around him. You’re worse than a goddamn tomcat marking territory.”

Anna picked up her bowl and started shoveling down the contents. She wasn’t about to sit there for a lecture. As soon as the bowl was empty, she stood up and walked over, handing it to the young boys who were washing up. She wrapped the scarf around her head again and stormed out of the tent.

Part of her understood that Tanya had a point. But most of her was seriously pissed at Tanya for butting into her business. It was absolutely no concern of anyone’s whether or not she and Curtis were having sex. They were adults. They could do whatever they damn well pleased without having to ask anyone.

Anna was charging around, mostly without a purpose. She had vague notions about finding Fisher, but realized she was mostly just walking in really fast circles around the outside of the gathering tent. Feeling ridiculous, she slowed to a much more sedate pace. Her initial seething rage was receding, but she was still angry. And embarrassed. And more than a little shamed.

“Anna!”

Anna turned and saw Landon. She forced a smile. He waved her over and she shook her head. He didn’t take the hint. He left his stall and hurried over to her. He took her hands in his. “You look lost.”

“Not lost,” she assured him.

“Come,” he said, “have a drink with me.”

“I - “ she started, looking around, trying to get away.

“Come on,” he cajoled.

She relented, letting him lead her back to his stall. He situated her under a mound of blankets and furs, and then he went to procure drinks. The sun was setting and it was getting considerably colder. But the stall cut the wind and the blankets were warm.

Landon returned in short order and pressed one of the mugs into her hand. It was warm. She could feel it even through her gloves. She put her face over the mug and inhaled the steam. There was honey and some kind of citrus, probably from dried fruit. She took a sip. There was quite a bit of alcohol, none too smooth. But it was warm and spiced and exactly what she wanted.

She and Landon talked for a long time, about everything and nothing. He was a widower. He and his wife hadn’t been blessed with children, but he asked after Anna’s. She was probably a bit liberal in sharing her frustrations with Grace.

The customers were tapering off and Landon was packing up his wares. Anna helped, and then they carried the crates back to the caves that Horizon camp used for shelter. It wasn’t Landon’s home, but it was where he stored the items for his stall.

There weren’t many people in the Horizon caves. Most of them had gone to the Gathering tent for the nightly feast. Landon led her over to the fire that burned in a vented alcove.

“So,” he said, bobbing his head, looking at her shyly.

“So?” she prompted.

He gave her an uneasy smile and pulled his hat back on his head, so a lock of reddish blond hair was visible. “You and Curtis,” he said.

She sighed and he winced.

Landon took a deep breath. “Time is short, Anna,” he said bluntly. “The Gathering will be over before we know it. I don’t want to waste either of our time by trespassing where I’m not welcome.”

She gave him a serious look. “We’re friends, Landon. You’re always welcome at my side.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “Friends. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I like you, Anna. A lot. I want to see you, a lot. But if you’re still involved with Curtis, then I don’t want to disrespect that commitment.”

Anna looked down at the ground. “Curtis and I separated a year ago.”

“That’s what I hear,” he agreed.

She looked up at him.

He gave her a thin lipped smile. “I’m not a young man, Anna. I know how life works. I have at least a rudimentary understanding of how the heart works. He’s been your partner for the better part of your life. You have children. You run a camp together. So I don’t have any naive expectation that he wouldn’t be a part of your life.”

She straightened the lacing on the end of her coat sleeve.

“But,” Landon said carefully, “I’ve seen how you look at him.” He took a deep breath. “I’d like to court you. But not if your heart is still his.”

“I - “ she started to speak and then fell silent. She bowed her head. “I value your friendship a great deal,” she said quietly.

He waited, silent.

She cleared her throat. “Truthfully, I’m not sure what’s going on with Curtis right now. I value you. But I won’t ask you to wait for me. And I won’t ask Curtis to wait for me. I have a lot to figure out. By myself.”

Landon nodded. He looked disappointed, but resigned to her decision. Together, they walked back to the Gathering tent. Anna was relieved when she didn’t immediately see Tanya. She did, however, immediately see Curtis. He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t make a scene.

***

Anna spent most of the evening in typical fashion. She sat at Father’s side and listened to him spin yarns and hatch plans. Tanya took a seat at her side and they declared a truce after several cups of mead. Anna understood that while Tanya’s delivery left quite a bit to be desired, her heart was in the right place. And Anna couldn’t deny the truth in Tanya’s words. Anna did need to figure out what the hell she wanted and what the hell she was doing, before she damaged everyone irreparably.

In an interesting turn of events, a man from Serris camp introduced himself. His name was Ronon and he seemed particularly interested in Tanya. Anna enjoyed watching her friend’s obvious unease with the attention. But it was also clear that Tanya, at the very least, found Ronon charming. It was difficult not to. He was slightly younger than Tanya, though that didn’t appear to be an impediment to Ronon. He was tall, a good half head taller than Curtis, with shoulders like barn doors and a roguish smile. His dark hair was braided and fell nearly to the middle of his back. He had a heavy beard that was somewhat unkempt, and there was a scar that bisected his left eyebrow. It should have made him less attractive. It did not.

As the night wore on, they learned that Ronon’s partner had died two springs ago, leaving him with four young children. Ronon was a blacksmith by trade, though he was handy and strong. He claimed to be able to do just about anything. Anna believed him. There was a definite competence about him.

Eventually Tanya and Ronon took a walk across the tent to get a drink. It was all very proper. They didn’t so much as lay a finger on one another. Anna expected no less from Tanya. But they were talking a lot, and laughing. Anna couldn’t remember the last time she saw Tanya laugh like that. Ronon seemed to take pride in making her smile.

Anna was watching them when Curtis slid into the seat Tanya had vacated. He leaned over, settling his arm along the back of her chair. She sighed, and turned to look at him. He met her gaze. He looked bad. His features were pinched and she could see his jaw muscles standing out, like he was grinding his teeth together.

The room was loud. Father was bellowing to be heard, gesturing wildly with his good arm, occasionally splashing Anna with mead. Curtis leaned in close and simply looked at her. She started to say something and caught sight of his arm, resting along the back of her chair. It was heavily bandaged.

“What the hell did you do?” she demanded.

He sat back, frowning. “It’s nothing.”

There was blood marring the bandages around his hand. “It’s not nothing, Curtis. What happened.”

He sighed and then leaned in close so she could hear him. “There were a bunch of us working on one of the skids for Camp Three. Some of the blocking came loose.” He shook his head. “It could have been a lot worse.”

Anna knew him well enough to have a good idea at what he wasn’t saying. There was an accident. That maybe wasn’t an accident. And he narrowly escaped being seriously injured. She stood up. “Come on.”

He didn’t even try to argue, he just followed her outside. She stopped by the Homestead tent to grab her pack, and then went to the mixed gender bathhouse on the edge of camp. It was steamy inside. Unlike the women only bathhouse, this one was segregated into a dozen little stalls, each containing a tub. There were sounds of laughing, conversation, and splashing. Anna ignored it, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on a peg by the door, and then removing her boots and socks. She helped Curtis out of his coat, and boots as well.

They found an unoccupied stall and Anna pulled Curtis inside. The tub was empty and she did not fill it with water. Instead, she set a board across the tub and had Curtis sit down. Carefully, she unwrapped the bandage, frowning. “Who did this?” she asked him.

“Nam.”

Anna gave him a look, which he ignored. Nam was great with engineering. Not so much with medicine.

After some inspection, it was clear that the bandage wasn’t going to come off. It was dried against the wound. “We need to soak this.” She stepped out of the stall and found a deep basin. She also grabbed one of the heavy kettles of water heating on one of the many pellet stoves. She washed her hands with some of the caustic soap near the kettles. When she returned to the stall, she filled the basin with the water from the kettle and added salt and several of her antiseptic medicinal oils. She set the basin on the floorboards and it didn’t take long for it to cool enough for Curtis to soak his hand.

While the bandage soaked, they talked. “How did this happen?” she asked quietly. She was more than a little worried that it had been sabotage.

Curtis rolled his eyes. “It was my fault,” he said. “I was distracted.”

That didn’t sound like him. “By what?”

He snorted. “You,” he said, giving her a meaningful look.

She waited.

He sighed. “I was thinking about the way you looked earlier when you were on top of me.” His eyes seemed to darken and he didn’t look away.

Anna felt uncomfortably warm. She wasn’t sure it had anything to do with the heat of the bathhouse. Reaching out, he twined his good hand in the material of her shirt and pulled her close. She rested against him, ignoring the way her heart was hammering in her chest.

Slowly, his good hand moved to the buttons of her shirt, slowly releasing them until her shirt was completely open. The vest she wore beneath was threadbare and transparent. Curtis tugged the shirt back, so her left shoulder was bare. He looked at her skin in the flickering candle light. She knew what he was looking at. The bruises, the teeth marks he’d left on her skin. They were still achy. Gently, he traced them with the edge of his index finger. Then he trailed his hand down her chest, around the edge of her breast, circling her nipple through the thin material. She shivered, but then stepped back abruptly.

Shaking her head, she tugged her shirt closed. “We’re not doing this right here, right now.”

He frowned, but didn’t argue.

Shaking her head again, she looked at his injured hand. The bandage had soaked enough that she could gently work it away from the wound. Once the bandage was off, she washed the wound clean and then pulled a candle close, inspecting it. She winced. It looked like his left hand had been smashed. She supposed it was somewhat of a blessing, since he already had limited mobility in that hand from the time he’d tried to cut his damn arm off on the train. But it looked awful. She palpated the wound as best she could, without causing him too much pain. As far as she could tell, no bones had been crushed. That was a minor miracle. But the flesh between his thumb and forefinger was torn all to hell. It would never heal correctly on its own. She suspected there had to be ligament and tendon damage. His hand was a swollen mess. “This is bad, Curtis.”

He was tight lipped with pain, all flirtation gone, as she unpacked the rest of her supplies, including the needle and thread, several vials, and a syringe. She took out a small tin of oily balm and smeared it around his ring finger before prying his ring off as gently as she could.

“Hey,” he said, trying to stop her.

“Quit,” she said, sharply.

He stopped.

She sighed. “Your hand is swelling. You need to take this ring off before it becomes part of the problem.”

He was distressed, she knew. His brow was furrowed. “Yeah, okay. Just don’t - “

Frowning at him, she finally worked the ring free and then jammed it on her own thumb. It didn’t fit. His fingers were much larger than hers. But she’d damaged her knuckle on her right thumb quite badly a number of years ago and it was eternally swollen. It would prevent the ring from falling off.

Placated, Curtis seemed to relax. At least for a moment. When he saw her reaching for the syringe, he turned his head. She gave him numerous injections to numb his hand. She knew they burned like hell, but he’d appreciate it in short order.

It didn’t take long before he was numb. Anna was thankful she’d been able to barter for the medical supplies on the first day they arrived. Camp Three had somehow come into possession of large stores of pharmaceutical supplies. Anna didn’t even know what half of them were for. But things she had taken for granted in her youth could absolutely mean the difference between life and death in the frozen world.

Curtis held the candle, though he didn’t watch as Anna did her best to clean the wound. There was dirt and grime embedded in it. She once again checked for broken bones, but didn’t find any. Then she began to stitch him up. She offered to go get one of the leather workers, but Curtis paled at the idea and told her to do it. It wasn’t particularly neat work, but at least it was no longer a gaping wound. She gave Curtis a shot of antibiotics and rewrapped the wound with sterile bandages. She gave him something for the pain and handed him a flask of water, with instructions to drink all of it.

By the time she had cleaned up the mess in the stall, repacked all of her supplies, and helped Curtis on with his coat and shoes, before doing the same with her own, Anna was absolutely exhausted. She and Curtis walked back to the Homestead tent in silence. Snow was falling softly. The noise from the Gathering tent was still considerable, but they both ignored it, instead, heading for their pallets.

Once again, Anna helped Curtis with his coat. He didn’t bother to undress. He just fell back on his pallet with a groan. She gave him a dry laugh as she pulled his blanket up over him. She looked down at him for a long moment. In the darkness, he watched her. Slowly, she pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek.

***

By the time Anna roused in the morning, nearly everyone was gone but Curtis. She helped him up. His hand was swollen and sore and truthfully still looked terrible. He said it wasn’t too bad, that he thought he actually felt a little better than he had the previous night. She gave him some anti inflammatories and another dose of antibiotics. She changed the dressings on the wound and helped him pull on his boots and coat. She told him to take it easy, though she knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t listen.

Anna didn’t have time to play nursemaid for Curtis. She had promised to help Tanya with negotiating trades for goats and sheep they brought. The animals were strong and healthy. Several would make good breeding stock. They should bring a fair price. When Anna arrived at the livestock tent, she wasn’t surprised to see Ronon with Tanya. They had all of their children with them as well, Tanya’s son, Timmy, and Ronon’s four children, his daughters, Mai, Akela, and Lani, and his son, Kai. Ronon’s kids were all little hellions. But they seemed to actually listen to Tanya. That was a minor miracle.

The negotiations went well. Anna and Tanya were both pleased. Ronon looked impressed. The kids were bored, but managed not to burn the tent down, so that was good. Ronon and Tanya were going to take the kids over to the games, and they invited her along. There were races and contests of strength. So far Anna had avoided it. It was meant for the young.

Anna declined the invitation and went back to the Homestead tent. She couldn’t find one of her gloves. And she also wanted to see if Curtis was there. He wasn’t. She hadn’t seen him as she’d been walking around camp either. She had no idea where he was.

She checked her pack and her pallet for her missing glove. She couldn’t find it anywhere. She’d already checked the Gathering tent and the mixed gender bathhouse. That really only left one other place to check and she groaned. Anna pulled her scarf tightly around her face and headed for the sea of little tents. She and Curtis had used the same tent both times. Luckily, it was unoccupied. She sorted through the furs and found the glove. She quickly put it on and ducked out of the tent. She was hurrying back to the Gathering tent when she was nearly run into by a couple leaving one of the tents.

“Grace,” she said, staring at her daughter in shock.

Grace blinked at her.

Anna looked from her daughter to Devon, Hopper’s son. Both of their cheeks were flushed. And they looked guilty as hell. Anna grabbed Grace’s arm and pulled her toward the Gathering tent. Grace didn’t say anything.

Once they got to the tent, Anna pointed to an empty seat near Father. Grace dutifully sat down. Anna glanced at the entrance to the tent and saw Devon hovering. When their eyes met, he immediately retreated. Anna scanned the room for Curtis, she didn’t see him.

Anna finally took a seat next to Grace. Anna tried to measure her words, but she was still fuming. “Did you at least take precautions?”

Grace just stared straight ahead at the far wall.

“Jesus Christ,” Anna swore. The absolute last thing Grace needed right now was a baby. Anna stood up again. “Stay here,” she snapped. She turned and looked at Grey, who was sitting with Father as usual. “Make sure she stays here and Hopper’s boy keeps his distance.”

Grey gave Grace a hard look and nodded to Anna. Anna knew Grey would make sure her wishes were followed to the letter. As she turned to leave, she saw Father look at Grace with a furrowed brow, drawing her into the circle of his arms.

***

It took Anna longer than she had expected, but it was done. She made her way back to the Gathering tent. Grace was still sitting there, next to Father, looking more sullen than ever. Father was holding her hand. Anna had no doubt that he’d given Grace all sorts of platitudes. She knew he meant well, but Father was absolute shite at providing any sort of actual guidance in this sort of thing. He’d left Anna completely on her own to muddle her way through her relationship with Curtis when she wasn’t much older than Grace. Anna knew he wouldn’t be any help to Grace now.

As Anna approached, Grey met her eyes and gave her a nod of acknowledgement.

“Come on,” she snapped to Grace.

Grace stood up. Anna didn’t wait, she simply turned and headed out of the tent.

Grace followed, lagging behind. Anna would have prefered to have the conversation quietly, but since Grace insisted on conducting herself like a child, trailing a good twenty feet behind, she shouted, “You’re going back to camp tomorrow, with Miko and Sam.”

“What?” Grace shouted. She ran to catch up with Anna. “No,” she said. “I’m not going.”

“You are,” Anna said flatly, pushing her way past the flaps to the entrance of the Homestead tent. “They leave at dawn. You better be packed.”

“I am not going,” Grace yelled.

Anna ignored her, and made her way through the tent toward her pallet. “You are,” she said. “Or you can find a new camp.”

“Maybe I will,” Grace bellowed. “Maybe I’ll leave Homestead and find a new camp.”

Anna was nearly at her pallet, but she spun and faced Grace. Luckily it was only late afternoon and the tent was largely deserted. The few people milling around were doing their best to be invisible. “Try it,” Anna challenged. “I know you think you’re grown, but try it. Leave Homestead. Leave everything and everyone you’ve ever known and move in with Hopper’s clan. You can have a babe in your belly by fall. And then you can birth and raise it while you raise all of Devon’s younger brothers and sisters, and all of his nieces and nephews. You can fetch and carry and wait on other people in a family where you will always be an outsider, and you will always be less.”

Grace’s eyes were shiny and her chin wobbled. “You don’t know Devon.”

“I might not know Devon, but I know Hopper. He keeps his camp afloat, but don’t you dare try and tell me that he doesn’t prefer his sons to his daughters. I’ve seen how his camp is run. The men lead, and the women clean. And the women, who are not his daughters, are less than second class citizens. They’re chattel.”

A tear threaded down Grace’s cheek.

Anna sighed, feeling deflated. God, how could she possibly explain this to Grace in a way that she could understand. Grace was so intent on doing things to spite Anna that she would throw away her own future in the process.

“You are loved, Grace,” Anna said vehemently. “Your entire life, you have been surrounded by people who value your heart and mind. You have been raised to think, to lead - not to give birth to a litter of little Hoppers.”

Grace sniffled loudly. “You don’t know Devon,” she said again, like she was clinging to that one idea.

There was a groan and both Anna and Grace turned. They saw Curtis, lying on his back on his pallet. Anna knew at a glance that something was very wrong. They both hurried over, crouching down next to him. Anna tore off her gloves and touched his face. “He’s burning up.”

Grace didn’t wait to be told, she immediately went to fetch Anna’s pack and a lantern. Together they got Curtis out of his coat and shirt. He was insensible, covered in sweat, mumbling. Anna removed the binding from the wound and looked at his hand. Oh my god, the smell. Grace arched back, covering her nose and mouth with her hand. “Do you want your oils?”

Anna shook her head. “No,” she said. She looked at Grace. “Wait here. Do not leave him for a minute.”

***

It had taken what felt like hours, though Anna knew it probably had been accomplished quickly. There was a woman, Ruth, in Horizon camp. She was a doctor - an actual, honest to god, trained medical professional, from before the world froze. Under Ruth’s direction, they moved Curtis, on a stretcher, into Ruth’s surgery, deep in the warren of tunnels that constituted Horizon camp. Anna hadn’t been into the camp proper in years. The Gathering was focused entirely in the valley, away from the camp itself.

Ruth’s surgery was impressive. Stainless steel surfaces, electricity to run the lights. She had a lot of real medical supplies and it was clear she knew what she was doing. Ruth was serious about sanitation. Father, Grey, Grace, and Edgar were forced to wait outside. Ruth had two assistants, and she allowed Anna to assist as well.

Curtis was given fluids and stronger drugs. Ruth re-opened the wound, cleaned it, and packed it.

When Ruth was finished, she took Anna aside. “He’ll need to stay here for a few days. Once he’s on the mend, we’ll close it.” She looked at Curtis, frowning. “Even if it does heal, I don’t know how much use he’s going to get out of that hand.”

Anna nodded. She’d feared as much. Curtis had too. She cleared her throat, looking at Curtis, still on the table. “Is he going to make it?“

“I gave him something to help him rest,” Ruth said. “His fever is under control, but he’ll need intravenous medications at least through tomorrow. How he makes it through the night will tell us a lot more about his recovery.”

Anna nodded, finding herself suddenly blinking back tears. She clearly heard what Ruth wasn’t saying. If Curtis lived through the night, he had a chance. “Thank you.”

***

There was a room, just off Ruth’s surgery. Ruth and her assistants moved Curtis. He still had IVs. Once they had him settled, Anna asked for a basin of water and a cloth. She wiped Curtis down. She startled at first, seeing the dark bruise on his neck. Then she realized it was a lovebite, and she was the one who put it there. She rolled her eyes, blinking back tears again.

As she continued her task, she finally looked at the little pouch Curtis wore on a cord around his neck. She’d noticed it when they’d had sex, but she didn’t know what it was. He hadn’t worn it before they’d broken up. Curious, she pulled the little drawstrings and worked the pouch open. She dumped the contents out into her palm. It was a ring, and four little locks of hair.

Anna took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. She wiped impatiently at the tears on her cheeks. “You sentimental idiot,” she swore.

Sniffling, she shoved the ring onto her own ring finger. It fit perfectly, as it should have. It was hers. She looked at the locks of hair in turn. Edgar, Michael, Grace. There was even one lock from their boy who had been stillborn, Nicholas. They hadn’t ever told anybody his name.

She was still crying silent tears as she put the little locks of hair back into the pouch and cinched it shut. She looked at Curtis, oblivious to everything, fighting for his life because of some ridiculous accident.

“You had better not leave me,” she snapped. “Not now.”

Curtis, predictably, did not respond. With a sigh, Anna resumed the sponge bath. Luckily her inspection didn’t turn up any more injuries. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she felt like Curtis rested better after he was clean and cool.

Once she had Curtis settled, Anna spoke with Father, Edgar and Michael. They were all very concerned about Curtis, but there was nothing any of them could do. Anna was staying the night, and she was keeping Grace with her. If Grace was happy she’d been given a reprieve from being sent home, she had the sense not to show it. Grey informed everyone he was going to keep watch outside Curtis’s room. No one argued. It would be futile.

Anna and Grace made up pallets on the floor of Curtis’s room. It was late when they finally doused the lights. They had been lying there in the dark for a while when Anna heard Grace start to cry. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and pulled Grace close. Anna didn’t know precisely what the problem was, and she suspected Grace didn’t either. The fear over Curtis’s health was more than enough all by itself. But Anna suspected there was more to it than that. Grace thought she was so grown up. And today she may have learned that it wasn’t quite true.

Also, Anna assumed that sex with a fifteen year old boy had to be disappointing. How could it not be?

***

Anna woke to the sound of Curtis and Grace talking. She rolled over and looked at them in the dim light. Grace was curled up with Curtis in his bed, like she used to do when she was a little girl. Anna waited, listening, making sure she wasn’t interrupting something sensitive. But as far as she could tell, it was Grace complaining about an ongoing feud she had with Nykhor about where they needed to set traps, occasionally punctuated with grunts of acknowledgement from Curtis.

Anna pushed herself into a sitting position, and dragged her hand through her hair. She got up, checked on Curtis’s fever - it was gone - and got him a glass of water. She found one of Ruth’s assistants and they were able to disconnect Curtis from the IV line so he could take care of some pressing business. The limited activity wiped him out, and Anna helped him get settled in bed again.

Once he was good, she excused herself. Horizon camp had some truly impressive bathing facilities. Anna took notes. Homestead camp needed some upgrades. She took a long, leisurely soak, allowing herself to relax for the first time in days.

As she sat in the tub, she started crying, silently, with her hands pressed over her face. She didn’t even know why she was crying. For herself, for Curtis, for the way things were with Grace, for the fact that they’d all lived through the apocalypse and nothing would ever be okay again.

Anna wiped at her tears and splashed her face with water. She’d been so miserable for so long. And she’d taken it out on Curtis for so long. Because she could. Because he’d take it. Because he took everything. Fuck.

Anna dressed. She ran into Ruth in the hallway, who had just seen Curtis and repacked his wound. She said he was improving. She still wanted him to stay another night, and she wanted him on the IV through the end of the day. Ruth showed Anna to the cookfires, where Anna got hot water to make medicinal teas, one for Curtis, and one for Grace. She took the mugs back to the room.

While she was gone, Michael and Edgar had arrived, and Grey had left. Anna pressed the mug of tea into Grace’s hand and she took it without question. Anna knew that Grace understood what it was for. Anna directed Michael and Edgar to prop Curtis up so he could drink some of his tea. He looked exhausted. Anna shooed everyone out. She made sure that Grace, Edgar and Michael all understood that Grace was supposed to stay with her brothers all day, or there would be hell to pay for all of them.

As soon as the room was empty, Curtis was asleep. Anna check again to make sure he wasn’t feverish, and then she tried to find ways to make herself useful. She helped Ruth with several patients, all from the Gathering.

In one of the rare moments when Ruth had no patients, she said to Anna, “I saw the tea you made your girl.”

Anna nodded.

“Does she have a problem?”

Anna sighed. “Not yet. Hopefully not at all, if the tea does its job. It’s not her time. But she’s young.”

“How many babes took for you?”

“Three,” Anna said. “Michael, Grace, and then one that I lost late. No others took after that.”

Ruth nodded. “If the time does come, and she needs help. You know where I am.”

“I appreciate that.”

***

It was evening when Ruth and Anna checked on Curtis again. He didn’t have a fever and he woke easily. Ruth removed the IV and told them she’d close the wound the next day as long as it continued to heal. Even without it being closed, it looked so much better than it had. The skin had a good color and the swelling had gone down a lot.

The kids came back to check on Curtis, and they brought food. Curtis had an appetite and ate a decent amount. While he was talking to Michael and Edgar, Anna took Grace to the cookfires. She made another cup of tea for her and they sat for a while.

“How are you?” Anna asked.

Grace nodded, tight lipped.

“Grace, I don’t want you to leave Homestead.”

“I don’t want to leave either,” Grace said, looking up at Anna. She sighed, wrapping her hands around the mug. “It wasn’t like I thought it would be.”

Anna nodded. “It rarely is, especially at your age.”

Grace huffed out a sharp breath and pursed her lips together. “Devon isn’t like you say. He isn’t like his dad.”

“But you’re upset,” Anna said.

“It's not that. It’s just ...” Grace frowned into her tea. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

Anna didn’t push for more conversation. It wasn’t going to lead anywhere positive. When Grace was finished with her tea, they went back to Curtis’s room. He was in good spirits, and his color looked much better. But he needed rest. She shooed her children out for the night.

“You’re staying with Da again?” Edgar asked.

“Yes,” Anna said, in a tone that did not invite him to ask questions. “And you’re to keep an eye on Grace. Keep her with you.” Edgar started to sigh and Anna poked him hard in the ribs. “You heard me, Edgar.”

He winced, rubbing his side. “Yes, ma’am.”

When the kids were gone, Anna sat on the edge of Curtis’s bed. He immediately wrapped his good arm around her waist.

“What’s going on with Grace?” he asked.

“She had sex with Hopper’s boy.”

Curtis groaned.

“I think she regrets it,” Anna said dryly. “That’s something at least. Hopefully that’s all she gets out of the encounter.”

Curtis was quiet for a long time. “Do you regret it?”

Anna looked at him in question.

“Sleeping with me. When we were kids.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “We weren’t as young as Grace.”

“We weren’t much older,” Curtis pointed out. He took a deep breath. “And then Michael happened.”

She looked at him, studying his features. “I don’t regret our life together if that’s what you’re asking,” she said. “It wasn’t a thirty second flier in one of the sex tents.”

Curtis snorted. “As much as I like to give myself credit, I doubt it was much more than that.”

Anna gave him a half-hearted shove. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

She looked at him, but he just seemed confused, his brow furrowed and a frown on his lips. “I really don’t,” he said quietly. “I’ve never known what you mean, or what you want. All I’ve ever known is that I love you, and I want you to be as happy as you can be.”

She watched him carefully. She’d always known she was the one who set the terms of their relationship in the beginning. And she knew that he was overstating things, at least somewhat. He may not have known her intentions precisely. But he hadn’t been left completely in the dark. At least, she hoped not. “I loved you,” she said, hating that he might have doubted that. “I always loved you.”

His good hand rested on her hip, rubbing small circles. “And now?”

She looked away.

“You left me, Anna. It’s been a year. And I still don’t know why.”

She looked up at the ceiling, blinking quickly, trying to ward off tears. “Because it seemed better than dying.”

“Those were your choices?” he asked. “Stay with me, or die?” He looked so hurt, so gutted.

“It wasn’t staying with you that was killing me, Curtis. It was staying in my life, pretending everything was okay.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know what else to do. I had to change something. Our relationship had to give. You were the one who got screwed. I’m sorry.”

He took a deep breath and waited. “And now?”

She shrugged. “I’m in a different place.”

“You want someone again,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Not just someone.”

“You’ve been talking to Landon a lot. I know he wants you.”

“Landon wants a partner. But yes,” she said, “I’ve been talking to him. And I’ve been fucking you. I know you say I don’t explain things, but I don’t feel like the math is particularly difficult here.”

“You kissed that boy.”

“And you probably kissed Fisher.” He didn’t deny it. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You better not have done anything else with - “

“I didn’t,” he said, cutting across her. His arm around her waist tightened. “Not for lack of invitation,” he muttered.

She pinched his nipple through his shirt and he yelped. He caught her wrist and pulled her close. They looked at each other, nearly nose to nose, both of them breathing hard. Then he tilted his head and gave her a soft kiss. She waited several heartbeats before returning it, but finally melted into it. When she finally sat back, she was breathing too fast.

“I had a hell of a lot of fun with the sex tents,” he said seriously, “but a hot quickie here and there isn’t enough. I want you to come home, Anna.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

He looked stunned. “Okay?”

She held up her left hand, showing him that she was wearing both her ring, and his ring. “Yeah,” she said. “All right. I’ll come home. What else do you want me to say?”

He opened his mouth and then shut it again. He seemed unable to believe she’d acquiesced so easily. He tugged at her, urging to lay against him in the bed. She lay on her side, one of her legs across his, her arm across his chest. She closed her eyes and just enjoyed the feel of him against her. She had missed him so much. And while the time in the sex tents had been good, it hadn’t been this. It hadn’t been the intimacy of just being with him.

The candle flickered out from the draft and they kept talking. Anna got up long enough to consolidate both their blankets on Curtis’s bed. She wasn’t going to sleep on a pallet on the floor, not when there was a perfectly good bed available. They talked for a long time. They had quite the backlog of conversation topics, considering they hadn’t been exactly civil for the last year. It was a relief to share all the hurts and joys that she’d kept to herself for so long, and to hear his in return. She wondered if it was weak, going back to him. Was she simply not strong enough to figure out who she was without him? She honestly didn’t know. And at this point, she didn’t care. Curtis had been a part of her life longer than not. She felt home and whole with him.

As they talked, Curtis ducked his head and stole a kiss here and there. The longer they talked, the more frequent his kisses, until the only sounds they were making were the kisses. Curtis’s good hand wandered and it was clear what he wanted.

“You were on an IV an hour ago,” she admonished, trying to push his hand away.

His tone was dismissive and his hand settled on her ass. “I’m feeling better.”

“Jesus Christ,” she cursed, frustrated, but also turned on.

“A year, Anna,” he said meaningfully, squeezing her ass. “You were gone a year.”

“We had sex the day before yesterday,” she reminded him.

He stopped trying to argue and just hoisted her up across his chest with his good arm. She wanted to chide him about how he needed to rest, but truthfully, she wanted to get laid as much as he did. She scrambled out of her trousers and kicked them away. Then she unbuttoned his trousers and shoved them down his hips with one hand, while stroking him gently with the other. He groaned her name, his hand kneading her thigh.

Slowly, she sank down onto him, her breath hissing through her teeth. His hand slipped under her shirt, finding her breast, cupping it, his thumb flicking over her nipple. She rode him slowly, sliding her finger along either side of her clit, in time with her movements. Normally Curtis would see to that, but normally he had two hands. As it was, his one hand was trying to make up for the fact that he couldn’t see. He was running it over her body. When he realized that she was touching herself, his breath caught and then he cursed to himself. His hand found her hip, his fingers digging into the muscle there as he urged her to move faster.

She planted one hand in the middle of his chest for balance and then moved on him more quickly. Her thighs were shaking and she was so close. Her hips faltered as she concentrated on her fingers against her clit. She slammed herself down against him, rubbing herself harder, faster. She wanted him inside her when she came. She bit back a cry as her released washed over her.

She stayed as she was for a moment, braced against Curtis, catching her breath.

“Holy fucking shit, Anna,” he cursed.

She let out a sharp chuckle and started to move on him again. He didn’t say anything more. She knew he was close and it didn’t take long until his breath was hissing through his teeth as his body corded beneath her.

She slumped forward on him, pressing her nose against his neck. He made a contented noise and his hand was under her shirt, tracing up and down her back.

Anna reached up and pulled the tie out of his hair, sending it cascading into his face.

He sputtered and had to extract his hand in order to wipe his hair out of the way. “What was that for?”

“I hate your man bun.”

“I know,” he said, sounding smug. “That’s why I grew it.”

She pinched him in the side.

After a few minutes, the novelty of post-coital cuddling waned. Anna got up and found a towel and a basin of water. She cleaned herself up, and Curtis, and then rearranged all the bedcovers, before finally curling up with him again.

She sighed. “I forgot how hot you are.”

“It’s a burden,” he said meaningfully. “I’ve been working out a lot.”

She groaned. “Scoot over. You’re hot. I’m sweating.”

Curtis finally moved over and after some negotiating elbow and knee placement, they settled. Anna wasn’t sure if it was comforting or disturbing how easy it was to sleep next to him after so long apart. She didn’t have long to question it before she drifted off to sleep.

***

When Anna opened her eyes, Curtis was already awake. She was curled against him, her head resting on his shoulder and he was watching her, his expression unreadable. She pushed herself up on her elbow and looked at him. “Good morning.”

He nodded, and then tugged her toward him. He kissed her softly, but possessively.

Anna finally pulled back. She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You’re worried I changed my mind.”

He frowned, but didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t,” she said. “I want to come home. If that’s what you still want.”

“It is,” he said seriously.

She nodded. “Then it’s settled.”

***

“How did you manage to fuck up your hand?” Edgar asked.

“Mind your own goddamn business,” Curtis snapped.

Edgar grinned. “You were doing something stupid weren’t you?”

Anna smacked Edgar in the back of the head. “Yes, he was. You take after your father in that respect. Now go get me that hide like I asked.”

Edgar groused, rubbing the back of his head. They were all finally back at the Homestead tent. Ruth had closed Curtis’s wound that morning, and sent a bottle of stronger antibiotics than the ones Anna had. Curtis still needed a decent sling, which was why Anna needed the animal hide.

Anna was sorting through thread and needles when Edgar returned with the hide. Behind him was Doyle, one of the leatherworkers. And behind Doyle, was Devon, Hopper’s son. Doyle motioned toward Devon. “My apprentice.”

Anna arched an eyebrow and looked at Grace, who did not appear to be surprised. She knew about this. If Devon was Doyle’s new apprentice, it meant that when the Gathering was over, Devon would be going to Homestead camp with them, rather than returning to his father’s camp. This was an interesting development. As far as Anna knew, none of Hopper’s sons had ever left his camp.

“Thought maybe you could use some help,” Doyle said.

“You doubt my skill?” Anna asked wryly.

“We all have gifts,” Doyle said carefully.

“Indeed,” Anna replied. “And this is not one of mine. By all means, please.”

Anna moved out of the way, to make room for Doyle and Devon. She started toward the entrance of the tent, but Curtis reached out with his good hand and caught her. He urged her to take a seat with him and she did.

She knew that Michael and Edgar were watching her and Curtis, but neither of them said anything. They did look at Grace though, who looked somewhat vindicated. Anna half expected her to yell, “I told you so,” at her brothers.

Doyle was an expert craftsman, and accustomed to working on short timelines. He had Curtis in a sling in fairly short order. Still, it took longer than Michael and Edgar were willing to wait. The novelty of seeing their parents being civil, and possibly flirty, wasn’t enough to hold their attention. They both left. Grace stayed, though Anna knew that was because of Devon, rather than any solidarity with her parents.

Anna tried to compensate Doyle for the work, but he wouldn’t take it. She thanked him. He set off and Devon followed, though it was clear he would have rather stayed with Grace. Choosing to ignore her daughter’s sullen mood, Anna helped Curtis into his coat and they all headed to the Gathering tent.

***

The day was thankfully uneventful. The bartering was going well. Matches were being made. Tanya and Ronon appeared to be getting along very well. Grey said that Ronon had asked about accommodations in Homestead camp for him and his children. Apparently Ronon was a blacksmith by trade. That was always a useful skill. And he was a strong guy. Provided Tanya wasn’t opposed, he would make a good addition to Homestead.

Anna stayed close to Curtis, making sure he was resting. Left to his own devices, she knew he would push himself too hard. As long as she was at his side, he seemed content to sit near one of the fires and tell stories with the other old farts. Anna knew that the fact that Curtis kept his good arm wrapped around her had been noticed.

It was finally Edgar who asked. He’d obviously been sampling Juke’s wares. He nodded his head toward Curtis and Anna. “So you two back together, eh? I’m no longer from a broken home?”

“Yes,” Curtis replied, tightening his grip on Anna.

Edgar’s expression pinched. “Yeah? That’s all? More than a year apart and that’s all you’ve got to say?”

“That’s all you need to know,” Curtis said with finality.

Edgar nodded and didn’t push. Between Curtis and Anna, Curtis was the far more lenient parent. But it was also clear when a line couldn’t be pushed with him. And this was one of those times.

Shrugging, Edgar got to his feet and wandered back to where Nykhor and her sister Ajak were packing the items they’d traded for that day into crates. Edgar would haul them back to the camp tent.

Anna caught sight of Fisher. She felt Curtis stiffen next to her and knew he had as well. He turned to look at her. “I have to talk to her.”

Anna nodded, but couldn’t prevent the frown.

She didn’t watch as he approached Fisher. It wasn’t like she would make a scene. While people knew that Curtis and Fisher had shared a flirtation, Anna also knew that in most people’s minds, Curtis was still her mate. Fisher had no claim on him, and she wouldn’t dare embarrass herself in public by pretending that she did.

It was at least half an hour before Curtis returned. Anna looked him over. His eyes were shiny and what was visible of his left cheek was red with more than the cold. “How’d she take it?”

He reached out and took a drink of ale. “About as well as you’d expect.”

Anna could still make out some of the handprint on his cheek. She sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the impetus. She’d punched Curtis in the face a few times herself over the years. But she leaned over and kissed him.

“Thanks,” he said, frowning.

***

It was late, as usual, when they finally made it back to the Homestead tent. Ruth had stopped by their fire at the Gathering tent to check Curtis’s hand. She said it was healing better than she expected. Anna was relieved. Typically, if anything could go wrong for them, it did. She would be happy to skip that curse this one time.

As everyone bedded down in the Homestead tent, Anna pushed her pallet and Curtis’s together, spreading the blankets over both. Curtis was tired, she knew, and in a good deal of pain. She gave him something to help him sleep and he lay down without so much as a word. When Anna finally had everything settled and climbed under the covers, Curtis immediately wrapped his arm around her waist and buried his face at the nape of her neck. He was asleep in moments.

***

The next couple of days were spent finalizing agreements of every possible type; bartering, marriages, and truces. Homestead camp was in good shape. They had seeds for next season, as well as most of the livestock they needed.

Devon, much to both Anna and Curtis’s surprise, was still apprenticed to Doyle, and still planning on moving to Homestead camp. Anna heard the gossip that Hopper’s rage, when he learned of Devon’s plan, had been incandescent. None of his boys had ever left. But Devon seemed committed. Anna hated to admit it, but she was starting to like the kid.

Curtis’s hand was improving, quicker than Anna would have expected. It was still very sore, but it seemed to be healing well. It was still too early to tell how much range of motion he might get back, but Anna was hopeful.

The morning of the final feast dawned bright and bitterly cold. Anna’s nose was numb and she could see how her breath had frosted the blankets. But beneath the layers, she was toasty warm, curled against Curtis, and she shivered with delight. She had forgotten this, the simple pleasure of physical companionship. She was calmer at Curtis’s side, more settled. He was as well. She understood it was simple pair bonding. But having been so long without it, it seemed rather magical.

It wasn’t long before everyone started stirring. Curtis groaned, burrowing under the covers. Anna rolled over, and he pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her.

“What time will we head out tomorrow?” she asked.

He sighed. “Not too early. Everyone will be hung over from the final feast. And it’ll be slow going, with everything we’re taking back. Best to take our time and be careful about it.”

“Will you be sad to go?”

“Fuck no,” he said, chuckling darkly. “I mean, it’s been fun. Well, the sex tents were fun. Nearly losing my hand wasn’t. I’m ready to go home.”

“Me too,” she said meaningfully.

He looked at her, studying her features, as if looking for any hint of reluctance. She met his gaze evenly, watching as he frowned, his brows puckering together.

“I always loved you, Curtis,” she said quietly. “Even when I didn’t want to live with you.”

She rolled over and pushed herself up into a sitting position. She pulled on two shirts and a sweater, and then pulled on another pair of pants. She knew Curtis was still laying there, watching her.

He was still under the blankets when she left. It wasn’t the time or the place for a more in depth discussion anyway. And it turned out that the day conspired to keep her and Curtis apart. Anna did nothing but run from one metaphorical fire to the next, trying to negotiate last minute agreements of every possible configuration. By the time she finally headed back to the Homestead camp tent, the final feast was already well under way. She had just enough time to wash her face and brush her hair before she went to join her family.

The gathering tent was at absolute capacity. It was the fullest it had been for the entire Gathering. Everyone was in attendance, save for the unlucky few left back at the tents guarding supplies. It took Anna nearly half an hour to find Curtis and Father. Luckily, they had Grace with them - apparently Devon was spending a final evening with his father, but he would be off with Homestead camp tomorrow.

Anna quickly discovered that none of her family had eaten, so she took Grace and they went and got food for the four of them. As Anna sat down to share a chair with Curtis, he looked over at her and frowned.

“What?” she said, around a bit of stew. She was starving.

He shrugged. “I saw you brought your red dress,” he said quietly. “I thought you might wear it.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re not exactly in dancing shape.”

“Well ... no,” he admitted. “But you could dance.”

She leaned in close and looked at him seriously. “Curtis, the point of that dress is to be danced with by a man who is going to take me back to the tent and fuck me like his life depends on it.”

He blinked slowly. “Oh.”

She pursed her lips together and turned away.

In her peripheral vision, she could see him take a bite of stew, staring off into the middle distance, chewing slowly. He swallowed, and then looked at her. “I mean, I could - “

She held up a hand, cutting him off. “Eat your stew. We’re not putting on a show tonight for anyone. We will have plenty of opportunities once we get home.”

He frowned, but she knew she’d won the argument. For the next while, there was no conversation as they all ate.

When the gnawing hunger in Anna’s gut was finally gone, she paused and glanced sidelong at Curtis. Frowning, she pulled back and looked at him. “Did you trim your beard?”

He smiled. “Yeah.” He reached up and pulled his stocking hat off his head and her jaw actually dropped. He had trimmed his beard. But he’d cut his hair as well. Short. It was buzzed nearly to the skull. It accentuated his impressive bone structure, and made his eyes seem even more intensely blue.

It was a very, very good look on him.

Anna stood up, and then grabbed the front of Curtis’s coat and pulled him to his feet. “On second thought.” She looked at Grace. “Stay with your grandfather,” she warned, but she didn’t look back as she dragged Curtis toward the tent entrance.

Homestead camp was deserted, with the exception of three young men who had been left behind to keep an eye on things. And they were all outside, walking the tent perimeter and keeping an eye on the corrals. Inside the tent, no one was there, except Curtis and Anna.

Their kisses were frantic as they fought to get out of the multitudes of layers. Curtis got his sling off and all of his shirts and sweaters, leaving him in only a pair of heavy jeans. Anna had managed to kick away her boots, pants, and long johns, but she was still wearing several shirts and a sweater.

Anna bit down on Curtis’s bottom lip, at the same time, undoing the fly of his pants and reaching inside, stroking him roughly. He shivered, his hips arching up against her, following the contact. Together, and somewhat carefully, because of Curtis’s hand, they finally made it to their pallet. Curtis was on his back, pulling Anna over him with his good hand.

She didn’t waste any time, sinking down on him, groaning. She leaned over him, kissing him hard, scraping her nails through the short stubble on his head.

He smiled against her lips. “Guess you like the haircut.”

She braced her hands against his chest and pushed herself into a sitting position. Slowly, she lifted herself off him, and then lowered herself back down. His breath hissed through his teeth. There was no more playful banter, both of them were focused on mutual satisfaction. With his good hand, Curtis used the pad of his thumb to rub her as she rose and fell on him.

“Fuck, Anna, yes,” he said, digging his heels into the pallet, using the leverage to move his hips up against her. She whimpered, riding him faster. And then she was crying out, shivering over him.

Curtis rolled them over, covering her body with his own. His mouth was hot and wet against her neck as his hips rocked languidly against her. She tightened around him, and dug her fingernails into the small of his back. His breath caught and his body went taut.

They managed to sort out the covers, and they were laying on their sides, chest to chest, drowsing.

“We need to go back to the feast,” Anna said.

Curtis grunted noncommittally.

***

It was morning when Anna woke again. She was relieved to look over and see Grace asleep on her own pallet. Dragging a hand through her hair and scraping it back out of her face, Anna nudged Curtis. “Come on,” she said. “We need to head home.”

***

TO BE CONTINUED ... and then posted to AO3

#indiefic #snowpiercer #bbpc

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