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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

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The Other Side of Hollywood

Part Eight: The Finale

Word Count: 8.6K+

Author’s Note: thank you for reading my nonsense. Tuly, thank you.

Warning: the usual.

If this is the first post you’ve seen, links to the rest of the story (+ masterlist and moodboard) are as follows:

- One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven - Masterlist - Moodboard -

Los Angeles, California. 1995.

“Good morning City of Angels, this is Josh Fern at 106.7, bringing you your daily dose of pop tunes and the week’s biggest hits! We’ve got your sunshine while the clouds stay over our hometown, though they should be gone by the weekend. The time is 6.31, and this is our fan favourite of this week, Waterfalls by-”

The voice was cut out with a bang, a hand coming from under a mess of pillows and comforter to shut off the radio alarm clock. The nails were short, partially bitten away and partially trimmed, the fingers tips calloused and the black nail polish on them chipped away. The arm that followed had a collection of bracelets and wrist bands around it, a catalogue of the last year of events and gifts from friends. It disappeared back amongst the fluffy warm of the grey sheets, its owner hoping for another half hour of sleep.

A loud clatter sounded from just beyond the door, and the bed’s inhabitant sat right up, jumping out of bed, and slipping on a pair of fuzzy blue slippers before running to their door.

“Shit, shit…” A voice muttered outside, and the door was swung open to reveal their mom, trying to clean the fluff off the bacon and eggs she seemed to have dropped on the way to their room. Orange juice pooled on the breakfast tray, and their mom looked up quickly. “Oh! Honey! Y/N, baby. I’m sorry, I tripped over my shoes… This was supposed to be breakfast in bed for my birthday girl.”

“Oh, mom…” the pair embraced over the mess of spilled breakfast, sharing a smile as they began clearing it up together. “Well, why don’t I get dressed, we go to Ruth’s before the breakfast rush?” Y/N suggested, taking in her mom’s appearance. She was already in her scrubs, hair pinned back and her badge hanging from her pocket. “When’s your next shift start?” She asked, and her mom pressed a kiss to her forehead before picking up the tray.

“Cathy is covering me for the next two hours, and I should be back around 4.” Her mom said quickly, walking down the apartment’s hallway and quickly binning the dusty bacon and eggs, running the tray under the sink to stop it becoming sticky. “You get ready, Ruth’s sounds great.” She assured, and Y/N jumped back to her feet, rushing down the hallway after her mom and pressing a kiss to her cheek from behind while grabbing a damp rag and a bottle of carpet cleaner from below the sink.

“I’ll get the orange juice out the rug first.” She smiled, walking back to the stain of yellow on the cream carpet, dropping to her knees to quickly scrub it out of the flooring before it became permanent.

“Are you taking the cello to school today? I can drive you in if you are.” Her mom called the offer down the hall as Y/N brought the last of the OJ out of the carpet, walking back down the hall to store the cleaning products away.

“That would be great. Mr Johnson wants to restring it for me, I’ve been playing so much he’s worried they’ll snap any day now.” Y/N smiled at the thought, and her mom rested a hand on her cheek, rubbing her thumb on the rosy skin.

“You know, I’m so proud of you sweetie… I tell you, I never thought I would be lucky enough to have a daughter like you.” Their foreheads pressed together. “Just think, next year you’ll get me as your college roommate!”

“I still need to audition for USC mom. I’m not going to college yet.” Y/N reminded with a smile, glancing at the wall clock. “I’ll go get ready, could you take my cello down to the car?” She asked with her hands clasped, her mom laughing.

“Of course, birthday girl. Go, get ready. Leaving in 15.” Her mom called after her as Y/N ran and swung herself round the doorframe into the bathroom, quick to jump in the shower and wash herself, and even quicker to rush back to her bedroom and get herself dressed. By the time those 15 minutes had passed, Y/N was grabbing her backpack and Walkman, clipping the latter to the waistband of her tartan skirt as she rushed out the door, double checking she had everything she needed for school as she hurried out to her mom’s car.

“And I am right on time.” Y/N said with a heavy breath as she sat down in the passenger seat, her mom pulling out their parking spot, the car’s clock reading 6.59.

“I phoned ahead to Ruth’s; she’s got your pancakes already cooking.” Her mom replied, letting out a happy sigh as they turned onto the main road, turning on the radio as Y/N slipped on her headphones, quickly opening her Walkman to identify what CD she had on before closing it and pressing play, the pair enjoying each other’s silent company as they headed for their favourite diner.

They arrived a few songs later thanks to LA traffic, Y/N jumping out as her mom parked up to find Ruth, the diner owner, setting out her and her mom’s meals on the bar counter: pancakes with syrup and banana, and a strawberry and vanilla smoothie for each of them, plus a cup of black coffee by her mom’s usual seat.

“There she is: the birthday girl!” Ruth came round the counter, pulling Y/N into a tight hug that forced the breath out the girl. Ruth was an older woman, about an inch shorter than the teen, and stout, but stronger than three of Y/N combined, with her greying hair in curls and tucked under a soft blue hat that matched her waitress uniform. “Now I know we shouldn’t talk work, but can I ask you to come in Sunday morning?” Ruth asked Y/N as she ushered her to her seat, and Y/N’s mom came through the door.

“Of course. Mom, will you be working Sunday?” Y/N asked as they both took their seats, Ruth walking back round the counter. Y/N stopped for a moment, appreciating the ‘17’ that had been made with banana slices on top of her pancakes.

“Got a double at the hospital. Why? Ruth got you working overtime again?” Her mom raised an eyebrow at Ruth, who just cackled.

“Sami, sweetheart, that girl’s my best waitress.” Ruth scolded Y/N’s mom, who shook her head with a smile before starting on her breakfast, and Y/N did the same as Ruth walked further along the countertop to help another customer.

“So, what’s the schedule for today?” Sami asked her daughter, who looked up with half a pancake hanging out her mouth, causing them both to start laughing.

“Well…” Y/N started, swallowing down her food as her mom sipped on coffee. “School, then the pier with Rosalee and Evelyn. Then home, cake… And my bed?” She suggested, earning a roll of the eyes from her mom.

“It’s your seventeenth birthday, Y/N! You need to be out having fun, maybe finally decide to join Rosalee’s band?” He mom suggested with a wiggle of her eyebrows, earning an elbow in the side. “Hey! Girls in rock bands are the new super models. You’ll have all the rocker boys at your feet.” Her mom teased, and Y/N went bright red. “Speaking of which… Happy birthday.” Her mom reached into her hand bag, pulling out an envelope and sliding it along the counter.

“Mom, I thought we said no presents this year…” Y/N reprimanded her, but her smile was too bright to be angry.

“It’s a joint present. Rose and I, nothing too expensive, though that girl will have gotten you something else as well, no doubt.” Sami explained as Y/N licked her knife clean and slotted it under the envelope flap, slicing the paper open.

“No… No way…” Y/N muttered, shaking two concert tickets from the letter, covering her mouth as her eyes watered a little. “Mom…”

“You’ve been raving about those boys for the past year now, Y/N, and with Rose’s discount to Orpheum shows… They’re playing in a few months, we couldn’t resist.” Her mom said with a smile, and Y/N jumped from her seat, wrapping her arms around her mom, happy tears staining her mom’s scrubs. “Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Sami lifted her daughter’s face to wipe away the tears. “You’re my little superstar, Y/N, you deserve some time off.” She informed Y/N, who nodded. “You finish up, you can finish the milkshake in the car, and if you decide to cut school today, just make sure you’re not missing anything important… Knowing Rose, she’ll drag you out before you can get a word in edge wise.”

The pair were conscious of the time, finishing up quickly and bidding goodbye to Ruth as they hurried for the car. LA traffic always had to be accounted for, but they managed up the beach front and reached Los Feliz High with ten minutes to spare. Y/N quickly kissed her mom’s cheek, grabbing her bag and pulling her cello from the backseat, waving her mom off to work as an arm rested across her shoulders, another set coming around her waist.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Evelyn and Rosalee shrieked into Y/N’s ears, causing the girl to jump and try and wriggle away as her cousin and best friend, respectively, pressed kisses to her cheeks and locked her in an embrace.

“Jesus! I swear you both want to kill me.” Y/N recovered quickly with a nervous laugh, her cousin taking her cello for her as Rosalee pulled her closer by the shoulders, Y/N’s hand coming around the taller girl’s waist. “But thank you. For the yelling and the tickets, Rosa.” She directed the second half to her friend, having to pause for a moment to blow her friend’s hair away from her face, the dark curls tickling her nose.

“Hermosa, it was the least I could do. You’ve been in love with them since last year’s homecoming. Lo juro, fue el regalo más fácil que he comprado.” Rose promised her friend, the pair walking after Evelyn into the school building, headed for the music department.

“So… I took the liberty of checking your class schedule.” Evelyn spoke up as they reached Mr Johnson’s classroom, Y/N’s cello, and piano, teacher. She rapped the door twice, turning back to her little cousin and Rose. “None of us have anything major to do today, we have friends and study partners in all our classes willing to share notes, and your cello is out of use all day.”

“Indeed it will be.” Mr Johnson spoke up, the girls glancing down the corridor at the older teacher. He was a cheery looking fellow, maybe about fifty years old, with a round belly and a love of suspenders. He was also the best teacher Y/N had ever had. “I need to restring and tune and break it in for use, you’ll get it back Monday. Now, I hope you girls aren’t planning on skipping school for Y/N’s birthday, as a teacher I could never condone such a thing…” He said as he unlocked his room, beckoning the three in, the trio following. “Of course, if you were to leave, you should be going through that fire escape at the far corner of my classroom, and heading to the bus park. No teachers patrolling there this time of day...” He winked, and Rose took it as a sign to run over to the door, Evelyn following quickly. Y/N waited behind for a second, taking a step towards Mr Johnson’s desk. “Y/N, you deserve a day off. Happy birthday.” He said with a kind smile, opening his desk and pulling out a small, thin box. “For my brightest student, and for a life of signing autographs. The past five years of teaching you have been my privilege.” He prefaced as she opened the box to find a white marble pen, her name engraved along the side.

“Thank you, Mr Johnson…” She smiled softly, closing the box over once more and putting the present into her backpack.

“Go, be safe, be stupid to the limit of safety… I don’t need my student breaking her wrist a month before her USC audition.” He warned, and Y/N nodded fast, turning on her toes and starting for the door Rosa and Evelyn had left through. She broke into a run as she headed for the bus park, quickly catching up to her friends and falling into step with them, headed for Sunset Boulevard.

The girls often found themselves on the strip, and on days like that one they could walk all the way to the coast line and back, window shopping as they went. While it was colder than usual for LA, the thick cloud layer blocking out most of the sunshine, the whole strip was alive that Friday.

However, it seemed like Rosalee and Evelyn had a plan for Y/N, each looping their arm with Y/N’s as they started on a march down the strip, headed to an undisclosed location. They didn’t stop to window shop as per the usual, didn’t stop for smoothies from the place Evelyn got discounts in because she flirted with the cashier, they didn’t even hesitate when passing the cineplex the three frequented at the weekends when they weren’t all working or studying.

Instead, Rosalee and Evelyn stopped on the other side of the road from Rose’s job, at the Orpheum.

“I thought that concert was a few months away, Rosalee.” Y/N said with a raised eyebrow, not sure what her friends were up to.

“Oh, no… That’s our second stop…” Rose turned Y/N’s head slightly, focusing on a building two down from the music venue. “We’re going there first.”

“Tattoos?” Y/N’s eyes widened, looking over at Evelyn to see if it was real, but by the smile on her cousin’s face, they were serious. “Ev, your mother will kill you. Auntie is far from… Tattoo-friendly.” Y/N reminded, and Evelyn shook her head.

“Oh, I know. But Aunt Sami? She’ll be thrilled you’re doing something stupid. I’m pretty sure you being the clever one in that house isn’t fair.” Evelyn said with a grin, and Rose leaned over.

“We cleared it with her, you’re all good to go… So, you’re getting a tattoo, Y/N…” She said, and with a glance to Evelyn, the pair locked their arms tight around Y/N’s and marched her across the road and for the tattoo parlour.

“Guys! Guys! This is ridiculous, you realise that?” Y/N asked with a nervous laugh, gulping as they pushed her through the door, Rosalee pulling a slip out of her leather jacket’s pocket.

“Hello there. We have an appointment booked for today at 10?” Rosa asked at the desk, Y/N looking back at Evelyn, who winked: the pair had planned this a while ago, she could tell.

“Parental consent is required?” The receptionist asked, Rosa handing over the slip of paper. The employee glanced over it, shrugging and nodding. “What’s your name kid?”

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, we’ll get you set up in the chair. Do you have a design in mind?”

“Actually, we’ve picked something out for her.” Evelyn spoke up, pushing Y/N further into the shop and sitting her down on the tattoo chair. “I emailed it over last week, to Francis?” She asked, and the name caused shuffling from behind a curtain.

“Evelyn, right?” A beautiful woman, probably a few years older than the girls, came through the curtain. Her arms were covered in tattoos, shown off by the cut tank she had decided to wear, the band on it matching the one Y/N’s shirt repped. “Ah, so this is my rock child kin. Francis, you can call me Fran.” She introduced herself with a hug, first Evelyn, then Rosalee, and finally Y/N, each girl hugging back. “So, ladies, do we want the tattoo to be a surprise?” She asked, and Evelyn glanced at Rose then Y/N, both nodding.

“I mean, why not?” Y/N conceded, to the grins of her friends and tattoo artist, who took her dominant hand and flipped it over, rubbing down her wrist with sterilising solution. Y/N was nervous, sure, but the excitement was dulling the worry a little.

“Y/N, can I get your Walkman?” Rosa asked, quickly unclipping the device from her best friend’s waist before given an answer, and removing the CD. She walked over to the front desk, chatting with the guy who had greeted them as Fran set herself up, making sure her needle was inked and working well. Y/N gulped at the whir of the tattoo gun, the anxiety rising up…

When a familiar song came over the shop’s stereo, and she let out a laugh.

“Go on, you know you want to.” Evelyn encouraged, Y/N’s favourite band beginning to play and sing on the radio.

“It’ll help you relax… Go for it.” Fran said with a nod, slipping on a pair of gloves and her glasses, the tattoo gun whirring up again, and coming in contact with Y/N’s skin. The pain was sharp, and sudden, and she gasped, deciding to follow the advice.

“… ‘til we blast open the top. Face first, full charge, electric hammer to the heart.” Y/N called out, her eyes squeezing shut as she sang and laughed through the pinching on her wrist. “Clocks move forward but we don't get older, no. Kept on climbing till our stars collided. And all the times we fell behind were just the keys to paradise.” She began to sing properly, the pain seeming to dull when she focused on it, Rosalee and Evelyn watching on in awe. Her voice was so unique, so special, something Rose had been trying to convince Y/N to use for years. “Don’t look down, cause we’re still rising up right now. And even in we hit the ground, we’ll still fly. Keep dreaming like we’ll live forever, but living like it’s now or never!”

Y/N sang her way through the seven songs on the demo album twice through in that tattoo parlour, Rosa and Evelyn joining in on the catchy choruses: it made sense why Y/N liked the band, they only hoped she would like the tattoo.

“My masterpiece is finished.” Fran announced, prompting Rosa to run over and shut off the CD player, collecting Y/N’s disc and slipping it back into the girl’s Walkman. “Do you wanna look?” Fran asked her, removing her glasses and gloves with a smile, and Y/N sat up, looking down at the tattoo on her wrist.

“A sunset?” She whispered, glancing up at her friends with a smile.

“My idea, would you believe?” Evelyn said, Y/N getting off the chair and pulling her and Rose into a tight hug. They quickly bid goodbyes to Fran, heading back outside onto the strip, this time with the destination of the Orpheum.

“So, best birthday ever?” Rosalee asked Y/N, who nodded, still admiring the tattoo. It was a reference to her favourite band, her friends knew her well, and reflected their logo quite nicely. “Well, since we’ve been amazing to you… I’m going to ask again.” Rose said as they entered the Orpheum, and Y/N smiled ruefully.

This was their thing, her and Rosalee. Every week, Y/N would once again be asked to join her best friend and her cousin in their band, Rose and the Petal Pushers, and every time they asked she said no. She was a classically trained cellist and pianist, she was auditioning for the USC conservatory program in a month, and even if Rose had been the one to encourage her into playing again after the one time when Y/N was 10 and embarrassed herself at a concert so bad she refused to touch her cello for three weeks, Y/N couldn’t see why a girl rock band needed her in it. Evelyn, Rose and the girls were quite phenomenal without her.

“Why do you need me?” Y/N decided to ask this time, instead of just refusing, a bit more open to ideas since it was her birthday. Rosa and Evelyn shared a glanced, shocked, before pulling her through to the main concert space and jumping up onto the stage, dragging Y/N along with them.

“Have you ever heard a cello in a rock song?” Evelyn asked her, the three looking out at the space, standing in the places where legends had stood before them.

“Not really… No.” Y/N admitted, looking over and fixing one of the butterfly themed clips in Rosalee’s hair.

“That’s exactly why we need you, Y/N. Diversify the genre, bring classical technique to punk rock!” She pitched, taking her friend’s hand in hers. “Plus, you can sing, you can play piano… You have a gift that needs to be shared with the world, Y/N.” The words gave Y/N reason to pause, to consider. She had, after all, done crazier things before, she had done crazier things that day, the ink on her wrist catching her eye. “Go on… Sing something, see how it feels.” She urged, and Y/N sighed, entertaining her friends as her eyes closed.

“God!” Y/N let the note hang for a moment, and Rose grinned: it was something she had written, that Y/N had overheard her practicing at school the week before. “God only knows, what I’d do… If I, if I couldn’t love you…” She sang softly, her eyes opening to look out, to feel the rush of adrenaline hit her. She bit her lip as she smiled, understanding exactly what Rose meant. “If I do this…” She began, cut off and Rose and Evelyn hugged her tight, squealing in delight, jumping up and down with her.

“That’s a yes! You finally said yes!” Rose cheered, and Evelyn jumped down from the stage and rushed over to the bar, pulling out a small box she and Rose undoubtedly store there the night before, sat atop it a party hat.

“To celebrate your joining the band…” Evelyn opened the box, a frosted cupcake inside, and handed it to Y/N while fixing a party hat onto the girl’s head.

“Ah! Ewan!” Rose called as a kid around their age walked in, ready for a shift that night. He was a year older than the girls, had gone to school with them, and knew far too much about all of them thanks to Rose. “Can you get a photo? Y/N’s finally agreed.” She explained, pulling a disposable camera from her school bag and handing it over to him.

“You really agreed?” He asked Y/N, who was eating her way rather quickly through the cupcake: though to be fair, it was her favourite flavour. She nodded in response, earning laughs from her three companions, and she just shrugged as she swallowed.

“After… Two years of pestering, it seems only right that I final give in. Rosalee sure wasn’t going to be defeated.” Y/N laughed, taking one last bite of the cupcake before wiping her mouth, swallowing the food as Rose and Evelyn wrapped their arms around her.

“Say… Petal Pushers!” Ewan called, taking a photo as the girls laughed through the words, a smile on his own face as he handed back the camera. “You guys really ought to leave before the boss gets back.” He reminded, gesturing to the side door, and the three girls took a second before nodding, rushing out the side exit as the staff started filing in for the night’s events.

Y/N didn’t feel the eyes on the back of her head as she left the Orpheum, barely registering the whisper that passed by her ear, planting the first seed in her mind of something terrible.

That night, after cake with her mom at the apartment and plans made with Rosalee and Evelyn to meet the rest of the band that night for their first practice, Y/N began travelling towards the address Rosa had given her earlier that day, a hum on her lips as she stepped of the bus near the coast line, near her favourite place in the world, one her and her mom found years ago.

She had wrapped up warm, unusually cold air had set in that night, prompting her to borrow her mom’s thickest jacket as she left the apartment with calls of ‘I love you’ shared between a mother and daughter.

You’ve got nothing to lose…

The words floated in Y/N’s head for a moment, and she shrugged, deciding a five minute detour to the beach wouldn’t do her any real harm. It would be nice to have a few moments alone, to soak in the day so far, before she went on to that night and the upcoming festivities.

Her feet hit the sand, whisperings of a song floating through her head, a shadow of a man in formal wear further along the sandy shores…

Suddenly, morning, and Y/N was woken up at her favourite spot on the beach front by a scream. She shot up, rushing to see what had happened, no time to register her lost memory from the night before.

Only the scream wasn’t on the beach front. Y/N turned to find her mom and Rose holding one another, over a body, dressed just like Y/N.

“Mom…” She asked, looking down at the girl who lay on the rock, by her side.

Looking down a face so familiar to her, though she wasn’t sure why. The body was rigid, washed of colour, lips that should have been red a tinged purple blue.

And then, Y/N screamed…

Los Angeles, California. 2020.

They all came back at once, a barrage of information filling Y/N’s head, finishing its upload to her brain in an instant. Of a life she never got to live, of a mom who loved her so dearly, of a father who never appeared, of friends who loved her unconditionally and guardians who wanted nothing more than to see her thrive.

Of that man on the beach, of the songs she had sang for 25 years by his side…

A distinct memory of Caleb calling her death a recruitment, of him asking her to play for his house band once he found her, of him becoming furious at her upstaging him on her first night at the club... It all finally made sense to her:

She was dead because of Caleb.

And she had lost music, family, everything, because Caleb took it from her.

Y/N’s eyes stung with tears as she pulled herself to her feet, the pain of the jolt still coursing through her and forcing her to lean against the wall as she made her way to the stage side. She watched as Alex, Reggie and Luke played for Caleb, who sang and scatted his way through their third song of the night. None of the guys looked happy, of course they didn’t… They were enslaved by a man who wanted their musical talent and nothing else, just like he had wanted Y/N’s 25 years ago.

As the song came to an end with a drum solo by Alex, Y/N managed to muster up the physical strength to walk onto the stage, steely-eyed as a plan began to form in her head.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please let me welcome Y/N Y/L/N to the stage!” Caleb was quick to notice her, sending a smile and the audience’s applause her way as she walked along the band stand, taking a seat at the piano without a word said, without another person looked at. Her fingers spread over the keys, the sheet music for one of Caleb’s songs in front of her, but instead her hand moved down and hit a different chord.

She let it sit in the air, holding it over the whole room, getting everyone’s attention, including Caleb, including the guys… Including Luke. She had to do something, anything, and her mind travelled back to that night at the party, when she had spent hours resting against Luke, flicking through his song writing journal as the room shared jokes, shared anecdotes… Her memory focused on one moment, when she had scanned over the chord progressions and lyrics to a song Luke had asterisked and labelled ‘ANTHEM-WORTHY’ in his near illegible handwriting.

The idea quickly formed, Y/N getting the gut feeling to hold off for one more moment before pressing down on the chord once more, and beginning to play the melody and bass line of the song she remembered on that page with as much emotion as she could.

“Don’t blink, no I don’t wanna miss it… One thing, and it’s back to the beginning.” Y/N singing wavered a little, her voice taking a moment to come into its own… But she remembered now, what she was good at, what she was capable of… What she was able to create with Luke wasn’t a fluke, it was real. It was the girl who wanted to study music, who wanted to join her best friend’s band, who got a tattoo and played cello and loved her mom with her whole heart.

For the first time in 25 years, Y/N knew who she was, and didn’t shy away from it.

“Cause everything is rushing in fast. Keep going on never look back.” She continued, the boys quickly realising what was happening, knocked out of the daze they had found themselves in. Alex was the first to join in, taking on his drum line with a smile to Y/N, a thank you, that warmed her heart. Then Reggie, getting used to the bass strings again, no longer feeling the urge to play what Caleb demanded.

“And it one, two, three, four times that’ll I’ll try for one more night.” Y/N went on the harmony line as another voice filled the room, startling the audience and performers with its power, its beauty. Some sort of connection had been made, just like when Y/N had played with Luke the day before, and Julie’s solo performance from the Orpheum was being broadcasted to the room as Y/N played, and Reggie and Alex played. As her hands left the piano, Julie’s own playing taking over, her eyes looked up at Luke, slowly coming to from his own trance. “Light a fire in my eyes, I’m going out of my mind.” She sang along, a smile on her face as Luke’s eyes cleared of the fog that had settled in them, and his hands began to play.

“Stop it! Stop them!” Caleb yelled as the crowd started to cheer, to dance along, Julie’s voice filling the room and drowning out any shouts Caleb tried to make as the chorus came into play.

“Whatever happens even if I’m the last in it I’ma stand tall, I’ma stand tall. Whatever happens even when everything’s down, I’ma stand tall, I’ma stand tall.” Julie sang, the boys playing along, all of them visualising the Orpheum, where they were supposed to be as waiters came up onto the stage and grabbed Y/N, pulling her away from the piano. “I gotta keep on dreaming, cause I gotta catch that feeling. Whatever happens even if I'm the last standing I'ma stand tall, I'ma stand tall.” The damage was already done, Alex and his drum set disappearing into thin air, leaving a gap in the stage. He could still be heard however, now playing with Julie from the Orpheum.

“Right now I'm loving every minute. Hands down can't let myself forget it, no. Cause everything is rushing in fast, keep holding on, never look back.” As Julie continued, Y/N wrenched herself from the waiters, Reggie disappearing as she made her way across the stage. “And it’s…”

“Y/N.” Luke called to her over the music, his eyes worried as he watched the staff grab her arms and pull her back again. He began to fade, starting to disappear and join the band where he was meant to be, at the Orpheum, but then having to leave Y/N behind as a result. She would be facing off Caleb, alone. And after she saved him, saved everything, how could he let it happen?

“See you on the other side, Luke.” She shouted back, a smile on her face as she was pulled away by the waiters, a nod of her head promising everything would be ok. He vanished, his eyes opening as he finally appeared in the Orpheum, smiling over to Julie as he finally materialised.

“I’m going out of my mind.” Luke sang, earning a cheer from the crowd. “Whatever happens even if I'm the last standing I'ma stand tall, I'ma stand tall.” He sang, a wave of relief flushing over him when he didn’t flicker again, Julie dancing alongside him.

“Whatever happens even when everything’s down, I’ma stand tall, I’ma stand tall.” Julie joined in, Luke switching to the harmony line. “I gotta keep on dreaming, cause I gotta catch that feeling. Whatever happens even if I'm the last standing I'ma stand tall, I'ma stand tall.” Julie beckoned Reggie over, the pair walking to the front of the stag, surrounded by the crowd as they went back to back. “Like I'm glowing in the dark. I keep on going when it's all falling apart. Yeah I know it with all my heart. Ooh, ooh.”

“Never look back!” Luke called out with a final strum, looking back at Alex as they were left with only Reggie on bass.

“Whatever happens even if I’m the last standing, I’ma stand tall, I’ma stand tall.” Alex stood up as he sang, earning screams and cheers.

“Whatever happens even when everything’s down, I’ma stand tall, I’ma stand tall.” Reggie continued, nodding to Julie, who harmonised with him.

“Stand tall.”

“Stand tall.” Luke and Alex joined in.

“Stand tall!” A final voice sang out, the familiar high and airy sounds of Y/N harmonising perfectly with the band, holding a high harmony line as they went into the last chorus.

“Whatever happens even if I’m the last in it I’ma stand tall, I’ma stand tall. Whatever happens even when everything’s down, I’ma stand tall, I’ma stand tall.” The five voices sang together for the final chorus, Julie leading Luke down to the front of the stage with her mic as the paired shared. “I gotta keep on dreaming, cause I gotta catch that feeling.” Reggie and Alex followed them down to the front of the stage, mics in hand as Luke played them out. “Whatever happens even if I'm the last standing I'ma stand tall, I'ma stand tall.”

For a moment, as they held that last note, Julie and the Phantoms could see Y/N amongst the crowd, before she disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving the band to take their final bow together.

It was only once Julie and the Phantoms had finished their last performance that the club went quiet, all eyes focused on a smiling Y/N, who had sung alongside the band in their closing lyrics. The arms that held Y/N back were replaced with a single hand on her shoulder, Y/N following the arm up to look at Caleb, who looked at the band and with a flick of his hand, had them playing again, performers dancing, waiters serving food like nothing had happened.

“You and I need a little chat.” He said softly, leading Y/N towards the bar, the pair sitting on bar stools, and the waiter placing down two glasses of champagne. He was silent for a moment, taking a sip of the cool beverage as Y/N watched on: she wasn’t able to wipe the smile off her face. She could hear them in her head, she could see them performing, she could see Flynn and Ray and Carlos watching Julie with love she held for her own family. “Was this your plan all along?”

“No.” Y/N responded honestly. “But after I fulfilled my side of the deal, once I got the boys to the club, I got my memories back. Willie was freed… And now you have nothing over me, but I know who you really are Caleb.” She took a sip of her own glass, the pair setting them down at the same time.

“Oh? And who am I, Y/N?”

“A collector… A narcissist… The person who killed me. Take your pick.” She said softly, and Caleb’s face fell. She finished her glass, passing the crystal back to the bartender before getting up, running a hand through her hair and shaking it out into waves.

“I don’t lose Y/N… You know that. I will destroy you.” He reminded, and she glanced back at him with a smile.

“I’ve been dead an awful long time, Mr Covington. I’m going to die knowing I saved my friends, knowing who I am… That’s all I need. I have my redemption.” She replied, thoughtful in her words before walking towards the exit.

“So be it.” Caleb smirked, another jolt running through Y/N’s body as she vanished, leaving the echo of pain in her wake.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she was back on her beach, on her boulder, the waves crashing around her and the night sky full of stars. She collapsed, a delayed reception of the jolt administered, only this time the pain didn’t fade like usual. Instead, it radiated through her, settling as a dull numbness through her body.

She pulled herself to her feet, trying to envision Julie’s house in her head, knowing she needed to find Willie, to explain the boys got to cross over, that they were safe: to tell him she was sorry. However, every time she tried, her head became heavy, foggy, and after a few attempts and another jolt coursing through her, Y/N saw no choice but to walk.

It was slow going, the girl having to stop every few minutes as another jolt hit, the pain building up with each blow she took. She decided at about the halfway mark to ditch the heels she had been wearing all night, and by the time she reached the Molina residence, she fell to the patio, the sound of Julie’s dad pulling in to the house welcoming to her ears.

“Y/N?” A voice asked from the shadows, Willie emerging from his hiding spot and rushing over at the sight of his friend curled up on the concrete, holding her stomach as another jolt hit her.

“Willie I…” Y/N coughed, groaning in pain and taking deep breaths. Before she could continue, Julie rounded the corner, having heard the voices from the front door, stopping in her tracks at the sight. “Julie.”

“Oh my God, Y/N…” Julie rushed over, her and Willie sharing a glance, a mixture of confusion and worry: there was the question as to why Julie was able to see the skater boy Alex had been falling for, when the night before she had watched Alex, Reggie and Luke discuss plans to air, but it wasn’t the time for it now.

“I’m so sorry. For everything, everything I did to you both…” She tried to pull herself up, Willie quickly helping her to her feet and holding her upright. “Willie, I didn’t have a choice, I swear and…” Y/N’s words turned to sobs, and Willie held her tight to him.

“Hey, hey… I know you did right by me…”

“And the boys too… They crossed over.” Julie added, Willie looking over at the lifer with an eyebrow raised.

“How?”

“Y/N.” Julie just answered. “She sent them to me… Now can I ask the question of what we do to save you?” She directed her question to the girl in green, who shook her head quickly. “My mom wouldn’t want you dying again.” Julie said, leaving Y/N confused until she pulled a photo from her jacket pocket, Y/N’s eyes widening at the memory.

“Rosalee…” She whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek. “Your mom… Oh my God…” She muttered, the realisation tinged with an overwhelming sense of grief: not only had they all lost the guys, but Y/N had only just remembered her best friend, and now had to discover she had passed on as well.

“What do we do, Y/N?” Willie asked, receiving a shake of the head from his best friend.

“I’m ok… Going like this. I just wanted to say goodbye… To see you one last time… To be somewhere happy.” She whispered, and Julie wiped her eyes.

“Then we’ll say goodbye together… All of us.” Julie decided, beckoning Willie to follow after her as she walked to the studio doors, walking into the space with Willie and Y/N coming to either side of her. “I…” She stopped, swallowing for a moment. “I know I already said this but, uh… Thank you guys.” She said softly, looking to Y/N, their hand reaching out and passing through one another as they looked on the dark space with Willie to their left, a final goodbye appropriate for sending them off properly.

“… You’re welcome…” Reggie’s voice came from nowhere, followed swiftly by a groan from Alex, and Julie rushed to turn the light on. With the flick of a switch, the three boys were revealed in a pile on the floor.

“Dude…” Luke groaned, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness of the room as Alex got to his feet, Reggie sitting himself up. “Y/N…” Luke’s eyes focused on the girl, who had gone back to leaning on Willie for support.

“I… I. What are you doing here? I thought-” Julie started, cut off as a jolt ran through the boys and Y/N, her eyes welling up. “No… No! I thought you crossed over, why didn’t you cross over?”

“I guess playing the Orpheum wasn’t our unfinished business.” Alex muttered, looking up to see Willie, the worry etched on the happy boy’s face sending aches to his heart. With a nod from Y/N, who found herself a comfortable leaning position against one of the support beams, Willie made his way over to Alex, their hand linking as the blond found his footing.

“Point Caleb.” Y/N muttered with a painful laugh, waving her fingers over to Reggie, who smiled weakly and waved back.

“We wanted you to think that we crossed over, so we pretended to.” Luke explained. “We just… We had nowhere else to go.” He shrugged.

“We thought you’d go straight to bed.” Reggie added, leaning himself against a chair.

“Yeah, well,” Alex started, holding on tight to Willie for support. “I knew she was gonna come out here, but nobody listens to-” Another jolt ran through the four, earning a chorus of groans and whimpers.

“You have to save yourselves, all of you… Go to Caleb’s club, we can make this right, you can play with him… It’s better than not existing at all.” Julie pleaded, looking around the five ghosts, hoping her pleas might work. “Please, please just go! Poof out! Do something… Please, do it for me.”

“We’re not going back there.” Reggie shook his head, and the others knew why: compared to being free, a life at Caleb’s club felt like becoming a shell of yourself.

“Julie…” Y/N spoke up, smiling at the girl who had become her friend, whose mom had been like her sister. “No music is worth making, if the Phantoms aren’t making it with you.” She said softly, and Julie turned back to the room as Reggie and Luke got themselves up from the floor.

Julie couldn’t stand it, couldn’t imagine life without them, and in a moment of desperation, she threw her arms around Luke and Reggie hugging them close, a final goodbye. The boys held her tight, arms wrapping round her back, around one another, as they shared the moment.

“I love you guys.” Julie whispered softly to them, Alex holding on to Willie as they and Y/N watched the scene unfold.

And then it dawned on them all that Julie wasn’t meant to be able to touch them, and Julie pulled away to see Luke and Reggie both glowing.

“How can I feel you?” She asked softly, holding onto one of their hands each, so used to seeing her body pass through theirs. Neither of them could answer, but it gave Julie and idea. “Alex, Willie, Y/N… Come over.” She beckoned, Willie helping Alex over as Luke walked past Julie to hold out a hand to Y/N.

Y/N glanced at it for a moment, looking up at Luke to make sure he was certain: he had barely been within six feet of her since the party. Luke took her hand, helping her to her feet and leading Y/N back to the group formed in the room’s centre, the six joining together in a hug.

Suddenly, the glow that covered Luke and Reggie spread to the other three too, Julie’s grip on Y/N’s back beckoning firm, the dress fabric smooth and soft against her fingers.

“I feel stronger…” Luke muttered in disbelief, the group breaking the hug to look between one another. Suddenly, they all looked healthier, happier, brighter.

“I… I don’t feel as weak anymore.” Reggie agreed.

“Me neither.” Alex added, clearing his throat when he glanced at Willie by his side. “Not that, you know, I was ever that weak.” The six shared a laugh, Y/N lifting up her wrist as it began to tingle, the boys quickly feeling the same thing.

Just like what had happened at the club with Willie, the stamps lifted off their wrists, breaking apart in a small beam of light before vanishing completely.

“What does this mean?” Julie asked, looking up at the guys, who shared a smile.

“I this this means the band is back.” Luke said with a grin, the group pulling close again for another hug.

Aster a minute or so of jumping and tears of relief as they all held one another, Willie pulled Alex to the side, and in a split second decision, the pair locked lips, Willie’s hands holding Alex’s face as the blonde’s arms pulled the skater closer by the waist. It was quick, both coming out blushing as three faces smiled at them when they came back from their moment in heaven, the fourth set of eyes still focused on her wrist.

Y/N watched in awe as the final remnants of Caleb’s stamp dispersed from her wrist, 25 years of servitude broken with a single hug, and in place of the stamp a tattoo appeared: the tattoo she had gotten the day she died.

The five other eyes watched for a moment, hearts swelling to see the pure joy on Y/N’s face, their own quickly turning to disbelief when the tattoo came into full view.

“Y/N…” Luke said softly, the girl’s eyes darting up. “The reason you don’t like Trevor Wilson?”

“He…” She stopped, looking down at the tattoo the three boys had their eyes fixed on, and back up at Julie, who had a smile on her face. “He stole all his songs from my favourite band… Sunset Curve…” She explained, and Reggie let out a yell, throwing his arms in the air as Alex let out a laugh alongside Julie, leaving Y/N looking at Luke for answers.

“Maybe we should step outside, Y/N…” He suggested, holding out a hand to her and, after their fingers had interlocked, leading her out onto the patio, lit up by soft string lights and the stars above.

“Am I missing something here?” She asked with a worried voice, and Luke nodded quite seriously, closing over the studio doors for some privacy: though it didn’t stop Willie, Alex, Reggie and Julie from watching through the windows.

“This Sunset Curve… You never saw them perform live, did you?” Luke asked, running a hand through his hair, and Y/N nodded in agreement with his statement, trying not to focus on the guitarist’s flexing arms: for all of Caleb’s many faults, he had styled Luke perfectly, showing of his arms with a sleeveless tux.

“I had tickets for their show at the Orpheum, my friend… Julie’s mom, used to work there.” Y/N smiled at the memory captured by Julie’s photograph. “I died before I got to go. And when they had played the homecoming dance, I spent most of the night listening to the from the bathrooms because my cousin ate a bad hot dog… And then I got to the afterlife, and despised Trevor Wilson for no reason I… I figured it out when my memories came back: he stole my favourite band’s songs…” Luke let her ramble on, unable to contain the smile as she slowly found her way to a conclusion. “You know, he even stole a song called ‘My Name is Luke’, which was written by the band’s lead guitarist, in fact he wrote all their… music…” She slowed, and Luke took a step closer.

“Dreaming like we’ll live forever, but living like it’s now or never.” He sang softly to her, Y/N covering over her mouth in shock.

“You…” She began, laughing at her own stupidity. “You, and Reggie and Alex… You were Sunset Curve… How…” She took a few steps back and laughed again. “How is it possible that I accidentally like the same guy dead that I had a crush on alive?! How does that work? I swear this is Rosalee’s twisted way of finally getting me to that conce-”

“So you do like me, then?” Luke interrupted, Y/N falling silent, her cheeks tinted pink from the heat rising to them. “You know, I was kind of getting mixed signals with the whole working for the bad guy thing.” He took a step closer to her, and another, until their toes were inches apart.

“Was Crooked Teeth about Reggie?” She asked, giggling after hearing the bassist shout ‘hey!’ from the other side of the door, which cause Luke to chuckle and nod in response. “Sorry about the whole bad person thing… I haven’t been myself for… The past twenty five years?”

“You know… If you aren’t otherwise engaged.” Luke smiled. “I think the band could definitely use another Phantom.” He offered, their eyes travelling to the windows to see Julie and the guys vigorously nodding in agreement.

“Do you really want me around?” She asked, hearing ‘of course!’ being shouted from inside, and she grinned. “If I said yes…” She began, but she already heard Julie cheering, and knew the decision had been made for her, not that she minded. “Luke?” She asked, looking up into his eyes as he smiled down at her.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Do you want me around?” She asked, this time referring to Luke instead of the band.

In response, Luke pulled her close by the waist and pressed his lips to hers gently, answering her question quite definitively. Her hands pulled him closer by his shirt, rising to her tiptoes to meet his lips. As they broke the kiss, breathing heavy for a second, Luke lifted her up in his arms, pressing his lips to hers again as she laughed, the pair spinning the warm glow of the patio string lights.

As Y/N and Luke were joined by their band mates and Willie under the stars, and as Julie hugged, really hugged, Y/N for the first time, everything felt right in the world again. They all knew this was only the first hurdle they’d face, all aware that danger lurked around every corner. The group’s trials were far from over, but that night, it didn’t matter.

Looking up at those stars, knowing somewhere Rose was watching down on all of them, they all knew that no matter what came their way, they would face it together rather than alone. As Alex pulled Willie close, as Julie and Reggie hugged each other, and as Luke’s hand laced itself with Y/N’s, it became clear that whatever was waiting for them next...

They would face it as a family.

Tags: @im-a-writer-right @elioelioeli0 @jenjen889 @walkingonshunshine @parkeret @lolychu @leahstypewriter @j-mar-memester @sunsetcurve-h @musicconversedance @gracefulpenguin @shae-is-not-ok @talksoprettyjjx @smol-book-nerd @lord-of-the-fried @siennanoelle01 @deadpoolgirl23 @theatricalfangirl @deepsleepnat @hhyunj1n @lovesanimals @oswin05 @ifilwtmfc @crappy-unicorn @eries45 @noncannonships @tenaciousperfectionunknown @theorangestofjuices @oopsiedoopsie23 @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses @aesthetic-lyss @voguesir @michellebarista @caitsymichelle13 @bellero @marinettepotterandplagg @delicatelukepatterson @avengersgirllorianna @cordeliascrown @wtfkie @aberette13 @xpolinax @kaylinfayezink @carleywhittaker @mightnight-dream

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fanfiction #fanfic #jatp au #reader insert #the other side of hollywood #luke patterson fluff #fluff #fantom

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misscrazyfangirl321 · 4 years

Note

nick and rosalee: Talking at 2 AM when they can’t sleep

Since you haven’t seen Grimm, I’m going to give you a quick rundown of like. Two things:

1. Wesen- Basically shapeshifters. There are different kinds, who can look like different kinds of animals. This is a Hexenbiest, (warning if you’re not great with scary images,) and this is a Fuchsbau. Both are mentioned in the story.

2. Woge- What it’s called when they actually shapeshift.

She waits until Monroe is sound asleep, breathing even and expression peaceful. Then, she rises. Careful not to disturb her husband-he gets so little rest these days-she slides on her house shoes, and makes her way down the stairs.

Unsurprisingly, Nick is still awake. He’s upright on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. Perhaps a little more surprisingly, he doesn’t seem to notice her approaching.

Then again, maybe it isn’t surprising. She’s not sure when he last got a good night’s sleep, but certainly not recently. Everything he’s been through, lately? It’s a miracle that he’s still able to make it through the days.

That’s part of why she insisted he stay here tonight. He’s spent so much time looking for Juliette lately, and to no avail. He needs to get some rest, and he’s not going to get it out on the streets, looking for his Hexenbiest girlfriend. (And wow, that’s still taking some getting used to.)

A board creeks beneath her foot, and he startles, but calms quickly when he sees her.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Obviously she didn’t, but she needs to be careful how she handles this. If she pushes too hard, he’ll just end up shutting down.

He shakes his head, looking away. “Wasn’t sleeping,” he mutters, and she draws in a breath.

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep, either,” she admits. He glances at her, brows furrowed, and her heart breaks a little more. His world is on fire, but he’s still worried about her? “Sleep’s just been… Really hard to come by since Monroe was kidnapped. Nightmares, you know?”

If possible, his features darken even more, but he nods. He blames himself for that, of course. Just like he blames himself for every terrible thing that happens in the world. Oh, if she could only take that from him…

“Mind if I sit up with you for awhile? I’ll make us some tea.”

He might be about to ask for something stronger, but he only nods, giving her a painful attempt at a smile. “Thank you, Rosalee.”

“Anytime.”

In just a few minutes, the tea is ready, and she hands him a cup, settling beside him on the couch. Chamomile tea, because they could both use something soothing right now. (Definitely nothing with caffeine.)

She wants to ask if he wants to talk about it, but holds her tongue, taking a sip of her drink instead. If he wants to talk, he’ll talk. She has to take this slow and easy. (Absently, she wonders if that is how Juliette handles problem animals at work. But thinking of Juliette is just too painful, so she forces herself to focus on the warmth pressing against her palms, on the man beside her, on anything but her missing friend.)

“She wanted me to kiss her,” he announces suddenly. She turns to him, but he’s staring straight ahead, refusing to meet her eyes. “She woged, and then she told me to kiss her. Well, demanded, really.”

It takes everything in her to contain her reaction to that. Her stomach turns at the mental image of the Hexenbiest woge, and the thought of poor Nick coming face to face with something like that… And expecting anyone who can’t woge to be willing to kiss your woged form is just not done anyway. Not that Juliette would know that, since she didn’t grow up as a Wesen, but Rosalee can’t shake her grandmother’s stern voice from her mind, scolding anyone who would dare do such a disgraceful thing.

“Nick-” she starts, but he swallows, continuing firmly on.

“I couldn’t do it. Pulled away, in fact.”

Good for him. She loves Juliette like a sister, truly, but she just might scream at her anyway. “Nick, there’s nothing wrong with that,” she murmurs, and he flinches.

“How can you say that?” A little too loud, too sharp, for comfort. It seems to scare him more than it scares her, though, and his face falls. “I’m sorry. I just-how can you-?” His eyes glisten in the low light. “What kind of man can’t kiss the woman he loves?”

Fury washes over her on his behalf, and this time, she can’t quite contain it. “The kind that needs time to adjust. She should have given it to you.”

He shakes his head, and she half-expects him to defend Juliette, but he says only this: “I’m not sure time would have mattered. I mean, she just looks so… Horrible, you know? That’s awful to say. Awful. I’m an awful person. It’s just-”

“You’re not an awful person.” She can’t hold back any longer. Reaches out, squeezing his arm gently. “You’re hurting, and you’re tired, and you’re in pain, but you’re not an awful person.”

He ducks his head, and she knows instinctively that he’s trying to hide his tears. He swallows once, then twice, roughly, before muttering, “I wish she’d turned into something else. Anything else. Fuchsbau, maybe. Yeah… I think I could kiss a Fuchsbau.” Before she even has time to process that, he pales, and turns to her, shaking his head frantically. “I don’t-I don’t mean-”

Oh, gosh. How sleep-deprived is he? “Nick,” she says, gentle but firm, “I know what you mean, okay? And even if I didn’t, I generally just assume that nothing you say means that you want to kiss me. So breathe.”

He obeys, a little sheepishly. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I’ve just-I’ve messed so much up lately, and I don’t-I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

She wants to promise that he won’t, but she knows better than to give him empty promises. “Trust me, we’ve all said things, Nick. It’s going to take a lot more than that for you to get rid of me.”

The tension drains from his shoulders, and he gives her a tired haf-smile, nodding slowly. “Thanks.” He glances away, apparently caught up in thought. “Maybe it’s fate.”

“What is?” She asks, although she has a feeling she knows where this is going.

“All of this. Adalind, Juliette… All of it. I took Adalind’s powers, she got them back, she turned into Juliette, Juliette turned into her, and now Adalind’s fine, but Juliette has these… Powers…” He shrugs. “Maybe all of this was meant to happen. Maybe I was just… Meant to lose her.”

“You haven’t lost her yet,” she protests, and it’s not just empty words. She desperately wants to believe that it’s true.

If he hears her, he doesn’t acknowledge it. “Do you ever think about it? Fate?”

She forces herself to follow the new train of thought, rather than pushing insistently at the old one. “Sometimes, yeah.”

He considers this, before giving a half-smile. “You and Monroe,” he says quietly, and it’s not quite a question.

“Me and Monroe,” she agrees gently. Then, meeting his eyes. “And me and you.”

It has the intended effect: he stops short, giving her a startled look. After a moment, the corners of his lips quirk up, and it’s a sad ghost of his normal teasing expression, but at least it’s something. “Should Monroe be worried?” He asks, and she’s relieved to hear the lightness behind his words.

“Always,” she quips, before refocusing. “No, but I’m serious. I mean, I met you the day Freddy died. That can’t be a coincidence, you know?”

His expression sobers a little at this, but he still seems confused; apparently she’s going to have to spell it out for him.

“The same day that I lost a brother… I found one.”

He draws in a sharp breath, eyes widening, and he looks at her in startled awe. Then, he breaks.

She doesn’t think it’s all about her words; this has been a long time coming, really, and it’s a wonder he’s held it together for as long as he has. But he shatters, tears streaming down his cheeks, broken sobs slipping from his lips.

She sets her tea aside, barely catching his as well, before opening her arms, drawing him in. He buries his face in her shoulder, and she strokes his hair, murmuring quiet nonsense. Anything to calm him, to soothe the storm raging inside of him, to remind him that he isn’t alone.

“I’ve got you,” she promises, fierce and sure. “I’ve got you.”

(If she sheds a few tears of her own-for Juliette, for Nick, for this whole messed up situation-they come quietly, lost in his hair. No one needs to know.)

Finally, his tears subside, but he makes no move to pull away. Absently, she wonders when he was last held. Making a mental note to drag him and Monroe into a group hug tomorrow, she shifts a little, getting more comfortable.

If he needs to stay like this for awhile, she’s in no hurry to pull away.

She’s not sure how long they stay, motionless, before a yawn slips from her lips. It’s loud and sudden, and her cheeks heat. He pulls away, the moment effectively broken, and gives a weak chuckle.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, but he waves her off.

“It’s fine. Thank you.” He pauses, looking at her a little too carefully, and suspicion flickers in his gaze. “Wait a second. You weren’t having trouble sleeping, were you?”

“Nick,” she protests, “Of course I-”

He raises a brow, expression a little too knowing, and she shifts gears.

“Of course I was,” she finishes quietly. “Knowing you were down here, going through all of this alone?”

He shakes his head. “Why didn’t you just… Say something?”

Right. “Because you really, really stink at letting other people take care of you,” she says frankly, but she pats his arm, softening the impact. “But you’re really good at taking care of other people.”

He looks somewhere between amused and offended, but finally settles on grateful, giving her a small but sincere smile. “Thank you, Rosalee. Truly. But now, you need to head back up to bed. Get some sleep, okay? I promise,” he adds, before she can protest, “I’ll try to get some down here, too.”

She hesitates for a moment, before nodding slowly. “Fine. Let us know if you need anything.”

He doesn’t make her any promises, and she knows better than to ask for them. With a final hug-quick, just a single reassurance-she rises, making a mental note to grab the mugs in the morning. She really is exhausted, suddenly, and bed sounds like a really good idea.

Monroe is already awake when she slips back in. Judging by his expression, he has been for awhile. He gives her a tender smile, and her heart swells with affection for her husband. Not a hint of concern as he lifts up the covers, silently inviting her back in. “How is he?” He asks quietly, and she gives a weak laugh.

“About what you’d expect.”

He winces, gathering her into his arms, and she settles comfortably against his chest. How did she ever manage without him? “That bad, huh? Were you able to help, at all?”

“I think so.” In the morning, she might tell him about some of it. Not the ins and outs of the conversation, of course-she respects Nick’s privacy too much for that-but at the very least, she might tell him what she said about Freddy. Right now, though… “I’m really tired.”

Chuckling, he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Then sleep. We’ll deal with everything else in the morning.” The rest, he doesn’t say, but she knows that it’s implied:

Together.

#nick burkhardt #rosalee calvert #eddie monroe #grimm #grimm ff #rosalee x monroe #do i really accept that his name is eddie? no. but i needed a tag.#nick and rosalee #answered #gelpen is great #thanks for the ask!#my fics #my writing #my works #mine #friends and family tag #i started a quiz late because i wanted to finish this so enjoyyy

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official-ilvermorny · 6 years

Photo

Black Gate Academy

Кровь и озеро, небо и камень

(Blood and Lake, Sky, and Stone)

Black Gate Academy is found in the Great Lakes region of the North, on three small islands in the middle of Lake Michigan. Crafted from black stone in heavy wood in the Germanic style, Black Gate is a looming castle that dominates the majority of the largest island, and provides housing, class-rooms and dining for students and faculty. The second, smaller island houses the green houses, stables, and fields. The final, smallest island, is the home of the sports field. Students ferry themselves between classes on small boats or use rather rickety-looking wooden crossways during the warmer months; ice bridges are formed in the colder months that students can walk across.

Apart from Ilvermorny, Black Gate most resembles the European model of education of all the American wizarding schools. Its three Founders (Frederick Sorenson, Dalia Aleksa, and Rosalee Nyland) were originally connected to Durmstrang Institute; Dalia and Frederick were Professors of Charms and Enchantment respectively, while Rosalee Nyland was the daughter of the Headmaster at the time, a celebrated society beauty, and (unbeknownst to many) an extremely talented Transfigurer. The three of them had met at Durmstrang when all were students (Sorenson the eldest by two years, Dalia and Rosalee of the same age but belonging to different Houses); after a very interesting night involving three pans of stollen Dalia was attempting to nick from the kitchen, Rosalee’s sugar-quill induced insomnia, a drunken frost giant, and the loss of Sorenson’s prized smithing hammer, the three were fast friends for life. Each returned to the Institude several years after their Graduation, Dalia and Sorenson to take positions as Professors, Rosalee as a frequent visitor to assist her father, Nikolai Nyland, in his first years as Headmaster – and to be with Dalia, with whom she had begun to have an affair.

In the 1860s, anti-Muggleborn and anti-Half Blood sentiment was on the rise in Eastern Europe. There was a growing disagreement and then eventual falling out between the Half-Blooded Dalia and Frederick and Headmaster Nyland of the Durmstrang Institute; at the apex of dispute, Rosalee and Dalia were revealed to be lovers, and Headmaster Nyland disowned his daughter and threatened Dalia and Frederick with charges of corruption and imprisonment. The three swiftly abandoned Durmstrang, and then Europe, and set off for America, arriving in the Midwest/Great Lakes region in 1872. From there, they set about creating their school, which was finished and opened for students in 1878.

Black Gate has never been segregated and has always been curiously ahead of its time in terms of social acceptance. The Founders had held the dream in their hearts of creating a Haven in the North, a stone fortress that used the old ways taught at Durmstrang to protect all those within its walls, a place where students could study not just the magic of textbooks but wild magic that lay in frost and fire. Sorenson and Aleksa both were trained in Enchantment, some of the oldest magic known to wizardkind, and they were trained in the traditional manner passed down by wizards of the Frozen North for generations. Each Founder felt the pulse and potential of the land of lakes and sky they found themselves in, and rather than subvert that potential in the creation of their school, they crafted it into its design and very foundations.

Much thought is given in Black Gate to the history and qualities of magical rituals. The Nordic blood magic of Northern European mixed in with the wild magic of Northern Canada makes for a very interesting, very potent combination. It isn’t that ritualistic magic is taught, specifically. That would be gauche. No, it’s just done in little things. Salt sprinkled on the windows to the outside. Hardtack left in corners to appease hungry spirits. And if a student really wants a spell to have some extra oomph, she may just prick her finger – as she’s seen her professors do - and add a drop of her own blood to the incantation. They know the Old Ways at Black Gate.

Black Gate has almost 600 students residing in its dark stone walls. They follow the traditional 7-year schooling structure, with 80-90 students in each class year, and each House taking in 20 - 30 new students.

The Three Houses of Black Gate are named after its founders, and it is a peculiar truth that the Purview Ritual for Black Gate tends to sort students into Houses where their interests were most favored by the original founder in question. Aleksa, the House of Air, tends to draw in students interested in the quick wit and flare needed for Charms or Potions, or those who would spend their nights freezing on the rooftop for the sake of Astronomy lessons studying the brilliant glare of the Northern lights. Sorenson, the House of Stone, is a place of students who would pour over the details of Runes and properties Magical Herbs, and who might be caught trying to ride a sea monster on their late spring afternoons. Nyland, the House of the Lake, pulls in the students of the slow and steady natures required to tackle the intricacies of Magical History or Airthmancy, or those able to follow the swift flows of thought that make for the best Transfigurers. It is not a hard and fast rule that a student must master in the classes favored by their House; if a student of Sorenson took a penchant for Charms, or a Nyland student for Runecraft, he or she would be welcome into any class they so desired.

But they understand the Old Ways at Black Gate. So if your given House surprises you at first - it’s very likely you’ll look back after a few years with mild disbelief at the thought you could have been anywhere else. There is magic deep and ancient at Black Gate, and it cares well for the guidance and guarding of the children within its walls.

Defense Against the Dark Arts is thought of as belonging to no particular House at Black Gate, as the original founders all took the subject matter as a matter of high study and grave importance. Each student at Black Gate takes a class in the subject for each of their seven years, and there are a variety of electives on the subject alongside. (From a beginner’s Wolves vs. Wendigos: How to Identity Your Dangerous Creatures, to the higher level Application of Unforgivable Curses.) Black Gate is also one of the only schools in the world where the art of Enchantment is taught as a class. The Professor of Enchantment, Anders Erilingr, has the reputation of being the only man alive still able to create a Mirror of Erised, and is widely rumored to have swapped crafting tips with Goblins in days past.

Black Gate does not follow a European traditional structure of House Division. Seven main towers sprout off of the main fortress of Black Gate; each tower houses one year of students. Students stay in the same tower for all 7 years of their Black Gate education; when the 7th years graduate, the new class is brought in to take their tower. The tower acts as a large common area for the year. Each tower in turns spins off into three large turrets, one for each of the Houses. Turrets are then full of different rooms, generally shared by two roommates, where the students will lodge for their full time at Black Gate. (Lucky few may find themselves with a single.) Each turret has the marks of the House on them Air accommodations generally are the highest and most full of windows, fountains play in the Water rooms, and the Stone rooms are full of magnificent etchings carved directly into the rock.

While Black Gate is, indeed, enormous, even with its size it should not be able to comfortably accommodate so many students in each tower. Which has led some to speculate that the Towers are, in fact, bigger on the inside. The speculation is utter nonsense – of course they are.

This division of the students by year is meant to foster inter-House unity. While there are of course the necessary spats and rivalries in between Houses, no significant inter-House rivalry exists or has ever existed at Black Gate. House pride, meanwhile, is encouraged at mealtimes; the dining hall is divided into three enormously long tables, one for each House. There, students may mingle with Housemates of different ages. There is no points system at Black Gate. (As Sorenson, the first Headmaster, impatiently put it, “We’ve got better ways to spend our time than fostering petty rivalries.”)

A final solemn note about Black Gate: as of 2013, there have been 7 Headmasters or Headmistresses thus far at Black Gate. The current Headmistress, Miriam Odinson, took on the position in 1996, after she murdered the previous Headmaster for Dereliction of Duty.

There is a simple truth about Black Gate Headmasters that no one speaks: when a witch or wizard takes on the position, it’s for life. All of the headmasters of Black Gate have died horrible deaths on the grounds in defense of the school. At the same time, it must be noted that no student has ever died on Black Gate’s grounds; within its walls, no child’s life has ever been lost.

The reason behind this apparent curse is a mystery to all but the current Headmistress, and Miriam keeps her secrets with a smile.

Posted originally on @americanwizarding, which has since distanced itself from any information outside of the original books, with some minor modifications by Prefect Selwyn to fit it in with the rest of canon

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fatbottombucky · 7 years

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Stick With Me, Kid *Negan x Reader* (2/?)

Summary: Negan finds a little girl, no more than ten, amongst a car wreckage, after finding out she’s alone in the world. He takes her as his own, raising her through the apocalypse. If there’s one thing that his greatest pride but also his biggest weakness, it’s his daughter, Y/N! Ratings/ warnings: Teen, mentions of blood and violence. I feel like, Negan as a dad is a warning. Writers Notes: This doesn’t really have a set plot, it will follow alongside season 6 & 7, I’m unsure if I’ll make it so Carl and reader have a thing. But… I got big feels seeing Negan and Judith.

Notes: I had this idea last year, I wrote a few parts and then forgot about it. Now here I am, uploading it because I miss writing Negan! - Rosalee

Chapter One: Everybody Dies

Chapter Two: Not Everyone Is Gonna Wanna Save Ya!

You were silent and nervous at the new place with Negan and his men. The night you arrived people looked at you oddly, even more so due to the fact you clung to Negan like glue. The only person you really trusted, trust was a stretch, he was safe. The morning after, he passed you off to a woman named, Mary. You didn’t see him for a few days after that.

Mary, whilst she was nice wasn’t safe. It was also boring, Negan’s policy of living was different to the one you had come from; you pull your weight, you are rewarded or something to that extent. Being the youngest out of everyone wasn’t fun, Negan allowed you time to adjust, meaning you had nothing to do but wait till Mary got back to her room.

You prided yourself on being adventurous. You used to somehow always manage to leave your mother’s overbearing side, a door which unlocked, wasn’t going to stop you from looking around. Negan’s community was in some kind of warehouse, huge and industrial, it housed many people; more than your last community. You didn’t see any harm in looking around, seeing exactly what this place was like. Stretching on your tippy-toes you opened the door, peeking out and then walking out into the cold corridor, shutting it with a little click before carrying on your adventure.

Throughout your little adventure, you had to hide, not to be seen or spotted by one of Negan’s men, you didn’t exactly know if you were allowed to just walk around and you didn’t exactly want to find out the answer to that question.

You came to door, the window looking out was shining sunlight, you smiled and pushed it open. The rays of golden light hitting your face instantly, warming you up a little. You walked out and see a line-up of motorcycles, various colours and styles, you also spotted two men with their backs to you. Leather jackets, jeans and talking loudly amongst themselves, you swiftly turned and walked around the corner of the building.

You noticed a tall, caged fencing, with a frown you stepped closer and through the panels of woods that reinforced the fencing you could see movement. You recognised that sound, the sound of growling and frustrated grunts, yet you still looked. It was some kind of obstacle course, various junk was scattered and those people admitted throughout.

Then from the right, suddenly, a man began to violently shake the fencing for attention. His clothes were just sweats, grey with a large ‘H’ spray painted on in yellow. He had this terrified look in his eyes, they were locked on you and he was panting heavily, sweating under the sunlight.

“Little girl,” he rattled the fence. “You gotta help me,” he persisted, “Open the gate, please?”

Stepping back, it made him rattle the fence in frustration. “Why are you in there?”

“Because I tried to leave,” he tells you, “they found me and brought me back here, please. Just open the gate, I gotta get outta here,” he begged and you nodded once but before you can walk a hand is placed on your shoulder.

It’s large and warm, judging by the man’s wide, shocked eyes you know who it is. You look up as Negan is giving a hearty smile to the man behind the fence, you recognise two of the men from a few nights ago beside Negan.

“Well, hello to you too, Bill,” Negan calls out, “I see you met our newest resident, Y/N, I hope you weren’t trying to make her open that gate. Get her in trouble, get her thrown in there with you, I’d hate for another life be on your hands.”

Negan was clean shaven, leather jacket zipped up and the same baseball bat in his left hand, he had a menacing grin plastered on his face. The other guy, behind the fencing, named Bill was clinging to the metal; shaking under Negan’s stare. You could hear the slight rattling of the fence under the white-knuckled tightness of Bill’s hands, you frowned at his terrified eyes, did he actually deserve to be in there?

“Mike, take Bill to his… room, I’ve got to have words with this little sweetie.” Negan grabbed your hand with his right, pulling you a little forcefully away from the caged area and around the building. A few men littered, watching guard and a few working on the massive trucks. “Where’s Mary?” It was a simple question, yet, you didn’t know the answer.

You lightly shrugged, still holding his hand. “I don’t know,” your voice was small and delicate amongst the loud noises around you. “I didn’t intend to get caught, you know,” he let out a loud chuckle at that.

“A little smart ass,” he commented before he stopped walking. “I didn’t put you in Mary’s care for you to wander off and talk to our castaways,” you look over your shoulder, trying to still see where Bill was kept and Negan chuckled. “We survive. We provide security to others. We bring civilisation back to this world. We are the Saviors.” He gestured around, the men all nodding, “And people who don’t abide by the rules, get punished, Bill, didn’t tell you that he ransacked our medicine, and killed three men in the process of him ‘leaving’. Fair punishment, fitting for his crime.”

You were silent for a minute. “Am I going to go in there?”

“No. Unless you break the rules,” he looks down at you. “I get it. You’re adventurous, curious about this place. It’s okay, I just don’t want you running around alone, not a lot of the men here are very forgiving if you get in their way.” You gave a little nod, “you’ll get used to living around here soon enough,” Negan name is then called, “I’ll have someone take you back to Mary’s room. No more wondering without supervision, got it?” You nodded and he did back before walking around you.

Two Days Later

“He has bigger things to worry about than a little girl,” Mary tells you walking through the Sanctuary’s corridors. “He’s busy still proving to everyone around here he’s leader, it’s a climb to get everyone to completely trust you, he has to be seen as alpha around here. He can’t do that with a little girl clawing at his leg, can he?”

Mary was a small, agile women. Blonde hair and kind eyes, it was easy to see why Negan trusted you with her, he passed you off to motherly figure. There probably wasn’t many around and she seemed to be the only one, so far, that wasn’t cold and horrible towards you.

“He’s trying to lead all these people?” You asked walking into the workhouse, she chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, he has his second in command, Simon.” You remembered Simon, he hadn’t been around much. “Negan has outposts for miles around, a lot of the soldiers are at those with communities of their own. I was at one before this, I was brought here to look after you,” she nudged and you smiled a little.

There were tables all lined up, piles of either food or clothing on them. Mary had explained the point system to you, this was the first time you had seen it played out. It reminded you of the Flea Markets your mother used to take you to before all of this. There was a man dealing with medicine, another women with food and other necessities a human may need.

“Did you used to get allowances?” Mary asked you nodded lightly. “Well, this is that. You earn points and you spend those points on stuff here, it’s pretty simple and easy to follow, you have few that still try to get around the system. It’s our way of life, now yours!”

You followed Mary around as she got food, a few little things that she needed, she was nice enough to get a chocolate bar for you.

“Don’t wonder off, stay where I can see you, kay?” You nodded and walked around the large warehouse room.

The bustling of people, lining up for what they wanted or needed. You slowly strolled around, eating the chocolate, getting bumped into and pushed around because of how small you are. You peeked over a table, smiling at the man sitting behind it, clothes piled on the surface.

“You must be the new resident,” he amused. His ageing face was either due to the torment of today’s problems or just him ageing. “Must be a big change,” he sighed.

You nodded, “It was a lot smaller and I lived in a house,” he nodded, “and everyone shared what was found, you didn’t have to work or earn, it was given.” He perked up at that, “Maybe that’s why it failed?”

“Nonsense,” He smiled. “That sounds like our new worlds, a new paradise,” you chuckled lightly, “Who knows, maybe, one day that will happen here. I’m Martyn.” He sighed but stands up, you frown and turn seeing two of Negan’s men walking over, shoulders tense.

“Leftie,” The bald one called, “Wade needs new jeans, whatcha got?” Not even glancing down at you as he comes around the table, lightly knocking into you.

The man, Martyn, sighed. “Again? That’s his third pair this month,” causing the man beside you to chuckle at that. Martyn shifted through the clothes he had laid out, “in your own time, leftie.” It was only when he struggled to go through the clothes you noticed one arm, the other sleeve was pinned to keep out of the way.

“He’s going as fast as he can,” you speak up with a little frown, Martyn shakes his head at you but you ignore it. Both men look at another with raised eyebrows, “His name is Martyn, not Leftie!”

The shorter one of the two, light red hair, almost blonde knelt down. “Listen, little girl, let the adults take care of this.” He smiled, “Just cause Negan brought you here doesn’t mean you can mouth off, you don’t get no privileges.”

Mary came running up, closing her hands around your shoulder and giving apologetic smiles to both of Negan’s soldiers. “I am so sorry, I told her not to go wandering off,” you looked up at her as she glared down at you but shakes her head.

“Mary, I don’t want to have to tell, Negan, that you can’t handle the child,” He stands up and she nods once. “Teach her some manners, when to keep her little mouth shut, we then won’t have a problem.”

“Y/N,” you tell him and he frowns, “My name is Y/N, you give basic respect, you receive basic respect; what my dad used to say.” Mary chuckles and tucks you under her arm, a little behind her as the man glares at you.

Martyn butts in with handing the jeans, muttering apologies for taking so long. You were glaring at the two men who took the jeans, giving Martyn a few words before turning to Mary, looking her over once. Their scowls made your skin crawl.

“Well, little girl, you’re here because your daddy is dead. Got it? So, whatever that useless fuck taught you are now forgotten. You respect people higher than you, that’s about everyone in this goddamn place, ya hear?” You looked to the floor, the harshness of his words tugging at your heart. Mary gave a disapproving glare to the men.

“She’s a child,” Her voice laced with motherly venom, you had heard your mother talk with the same harshness a few times before.

“No, she ain’t. In this new world, children either get killed or get you killed, don’t let it be the latter Mary, I’d hate to see you killed.” Both men nodded at Martyn, glaring at your silently crying form before leaving.

Mary took you back to her room, wherein she over a few rules to you. Mostly, not talking ANY of Negan’s men unless, completely, necessary. Negan had already said that his men aren’t entirely sympathetic, you just didn’t really think of it till now. She also told you not to go walking around on your own, even Negan said that, but you needed to talk to him.

Mary had given you a brief tour, not that you remembered where everything was, but you had the general direction to Negan’s living quarters. You heard a few female voices, you peeked from behind the wall and see three women talking before walking through a door, you frowned and snuck up behind them.

Pushing the door open silently, it was a big room and it had just those women inside. A bar was settled in the back, lavish chairs and it seemed music was playing, you hadn’t heard actual music in a while.

“Y/N?” A loud voice called your name, it caused the three women to look at you, you gave a shy smile before looking to see Negan walking towards you. “I specifically told you to not wander around alone!”

He stops a little short in front of you, crossing his arms in question. “I wanted to speak with you, I didn’t know how to find you without wandering.”

Instead of answering, he leans forward and pulls the door shut and taking your right hand, again, leading you down the corridor away from the room. He came to a door where he opened it, it was a bedroom, you skipped inside and he chuckled slightly as you sat in one of the armchairs he had settled by the window.

He followed sitting in the opposite one, raising an eyebrow as you looked, incredibly tiny against the overly large chair. “What did you need to talk to me about that couldn’t wait for you to get Mary to bring you to me? Is it about Mary? What’s she like? I’ve known her since the beginning, I figured she’d be good for you. She had two sons; you settling in a’right?”

“Fine, Mary is great, better than most of the people here.” He raised his eyebrows at that, “your men are rude. They treat anyone who is ‘below’ them poorly,” you expected some kind of response but Negan chuckled. You often got that type of response from adults when trying to be serious, often calling you ‘ferocious like a kitten!”

Negan stopped chuckling, “Listen, kid. I get it, you came from a little community that worked like equals, honestly, I wish it could be that way here. But you got to establish that the men who go out and risk their lives for them, for me, even for you now, well yeah; they deserve a new level of respect. The soldiers, my soldiers, are excluded from the point system because they deserve that privilege.”

“But they’re mean for the sake of it,” you frowned a little and Negan sighed.

“I can’t help it if people are sensitive to that,” he shrugs and that made you frown more, “You gotta develop a thicker skin to survive. You gotta work for what you want, work hard in order to get what you need, I can’t always have your back. Mary isn’t gonna always be lookin’ out for you, I’m not either, you can’t just come to me because someone isn’t treating you like a child; you aren’t one, not anymore.”

You remained silent letting his words sink in. You hated to admit it but he seemed right, you couldn’t rely on him nor Mary, plus maybe you were too sensitive. Martyn was a man, you didn’t know and you stuck up for him, he probably doesn’t care about being called ‘Leftie’. You gave a small nod, Negan nodded.

After your talk with Negan, you remained quiet when around Negan’s men. You didn’t want to say anything to upset them, yet it seemed you had created a feud, the two soldiers from days ago had a grudge against you. On purposefully knocking into you, telling the workers to only deal with your points when Mary was with you; only Mary was out scavenging with a small group.

It was a problem, a real one. Yet, Negan’s words echoed in your head; you can’t act like a child and go running to him when in need, you had to handle this yourself. So, that’s what you decided to do, it wasn’t going so well.

“Mary is out, I need this now,” You try to sound stern but it comes out more of a plea, the women working the food table, the broth bubbling in the pan gives a sympathetic smile. The soldier, Smith, known by his last name because there are four other John’s was standing with his arm crossed. The shorter one from when you first met Martyn. “I have all the points together, I’ve been helping with laundry, what’s the big deal?” You asked.

“You’re a child, we can’t just give you things because you may or may not have earned it, your guardian has to do that for you.”

“You can’t have it both ways,” he frowns at you, “I’m either a child or not, you can’t tell me one week to learn to be an adult and then today say I can’t buy soup because I am not an adult, so what am I?” Your little rant caused the attention of everyone to turn, you didn’t realise your usually small voice was now a yell.

Smith didn’t like that, he stepped towards you with a new fire in his eyes, the mocking smile he had was now gone and replaced with a sneer. “Listen, you no good cow, you should have died the day Negan brought you here. In fact, he should have left you, but he showed all of us his soft side. No wonder he has to work harder to prove himself, he let a stupid bitch like you live,” you backed up a step, knocking into a table as he continued to stalk to you. “Yeah, nothing to say now, no one to stupidly look out for you too. Look around you, not everyone is gonna wanna save ya, not everyone is as stupid as Negan was on that day.”

“Or compassionate,” you say before you can think. “That’s what makes him good, better than you-”

Before you can finish a force so harsh knocks you off your feet. A deep pain is stinging your cheek, your whole face really, but mostly a burning sensation is stricken on your left side. Tears welling up in your eyes, you look up at Smith who is leering over your body as everyone around is too stunned to move.

“You really, really, shouldn’t have done that Smith.”

(So, long chapter, I know. Hopefully, everyone likes this. Totally am not hinting Mary is Mary Winchester, I kinda am, it’s funny too. Love me. Let me know what you think, that helps me lot. - Rosalee)

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