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unikornu · 4 years

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Page 11, Exposure

-Good ol’ wild west, our next target, Boss. And judging by the map we are halfway through, dayum, i’m fucking impressed how much we did. Gage let out a long whistle while eyeballing her pipboy map, approaching together the next target, Dry Rock Gulch. The rocks around were massive and the scenery was very convincing into bringing some dusty cowboy memories. Even weather was fitting their excursion.

*plop* Lucy was working her jaw on a pre-war gum drops, making Gage nerve vein show up on his face each time she blew a balloon. -Looking how they…*plop* could create pretty much anything, no wonder Nuka World is so tempting as a base *plop*. He took a chance while Lucy mouth was running and gave her pat on a back strong enough that the gum flew out of her mouth.

- Khyy, what the hell Gage? She coughed repeatedly and shook a fist in his face.

-You know it’s annoying as fuck and ruining your teeth with all that shit it still has, consider it me taking care of your sweet mouth and my calming therapy. He grinned and turned his head towards the park entrance.

-----

The wind was pushing small clumps of dry grass around and nothing could be heard from inside the park other than rolling paper cups. At the gate they were welcomed by the warning sign “Danger, Bloodworms!”. Lucy stood behind the raider and eyeballed a sign. -Bloodworms… She froze in place and the blood slowly drained down from the face making her fairly pale, despite the warm rays that were hitting them. Gage was relaxed, even slightly happy.

- Ha, just some stupid worms? That’s it? Nice change for once, ain’t it Boss? Hm? Gage turned around back to her after not receiving a single response. She was standing, looking at sign and then back at him spinning the knife in the shaking hands. - You okay Boss? Don’t ya tell me you are scared of some crawling dicks? He put a hand on her shoulder and shook it a bit to get at least a word out her. - Boss?

- I…i…just got hit by the sun too much and blacked out for….a second. Uhm…ye worms, let’s go. You first since you are so….eager to stomp them. She lied through her teeth and took a deep breath as they started moving. Going right behind, nervously scanning area around, she pulled out silently a dose of calmex in a hope of injecting just a little bit more but as Gage stopped abruptly walking into his back, she dropped it on the sandy ground and kicked it aside hiding her failed attempt.

-Shit, you sure you are okay? You act freaking weird since we entered. Raider turned around his head just enough to show his angry brow expression and moved back on. Lucy let out a silent sigh seeing her syringe getting lost in a sand as they walked away.

The robot silhouette showed up behind a corner greeting them with a very stiff cowboy act “yiihaah-doggies-of-the-wild-west”. - Now, that’s interesting…there will be nice spare parts once i’m done kicking the shit out of you, sheriff. Raider cracked his fist preparing to give machine a solid hit through the glass but Lucy pulled his hand away.

-Just wait a moment goddamit, information first, smash after, right? He hmphed but backed away lighting a cigarette, letting her do the all the wire work. Few sparks in the back and there it was, every information they needed served on a table.

Sadly as the robot recording was going on about the worms and possible nest the her face was turning more and more into fear expression. Before Gage had a chance continue on his disturbed action as he strolled around with his smoke Lucy was already out of control kicking the robot down and swearing uncontrollably. The sound of metal smashing and thumping reached the ground under, waking up everything lying beneath their feet. They were coming and they were hungry.

----

- Well, good fucking job Boss…He threw the smoke aside and stuffed a fresh magazine into the rifle. Lucy was feeling the nerves crawl upon her legs and clenching its boney fingers in her throat. She was shaky as fuck trying to defend herself from parasites jumping out of the sand but with each one joining them she was losing this battle, mostly with her mind. Gage noticed her unusual moves, lack of confidence, something was indeed off but there was no time to talk. One of the worms managed to reach under her metal armor with its round jaws filled with hundred needles, biting into her shoulder blade in the back. She dropped to her knees, a fearful scream leaving her mouth just pushed her right hand man to shove more bullets into the crawling filth of this park. As he fended off the last of them he ran right to her, pulled the worm out of her back, ripping some of skin in the process.

-Argh! That was so slow and gentle ugh. She groaned.

-Fuck, what the hell was that? What the fuck is wrong with you?! He was angry, demanded answers but she couldn’t speak, panting heavily, as she looked up and saw the familiar shadow, standing in front of her. Same one, over and over again, shaping into the man that was giving her orders 200 years ago.

-“So weak, Feit. I’m disappointed”. He kicked her in the face, sending into unconscious state.

Now Gage was not just angry but also worried. He noticed some unusual curly smoky shapes slowly fading in the air but assumed they were just radiation doings. He threw her over the shoulder and carried to nearest shack sighting deeply. They went through so much already, much worse, be it gators or glowing mirelurks but he still felt like she was hiding something or refusing to open up all of her secrets.

---

A spiky sensation in the wound woke her up. It took more than one stimpack to make the blood start clotting with this one. Gage threw the empty syringe to the side and awaited in silence for her to stand up. He was calm but certainly not in the cheerful mood.

- I…think, i need to tell you something more about… She started but the big palm of his hand grabbed her by the throat and pushed to the wall, cutting her sentence.

- You think?! I fucking thought we trust each other at this point and that includes no motherfucking shit behind the back. He released her shortly, seeing her eyes widening in fear, not wanting to cause any more pain by pushing her to the wall but he didn’t back off. - And what the fuck is that? Dozens of calmex? Are you a fucking addict of sort and missed it at our lovely introduction last time? He pulled a bunch of syringes from the pocket that he stumbled upon while patching her up and put them aside on the broken table. Lucy was ashamed and sad, it was coming to her at one point, deciding it wouldn’t be such a big deal not to tell him about her phobia since bloodworms were pretty rare occurrence. Not this time tho.

- Okay, fine! I use calmex very often. Got addicted to it even before the war, helps me to calm down, focus on many matters and when phobia kicks in. I’m sorry but i felt like its not that important and would just make me look i dunno… weak, Christ. She slipped down the wall slowly down landing on her ass and hiding her face with a hand. She wasn’t sure if to tell him about the shadow that haunts her as it would sound completely ridiculous to the simple man like Gage.

- You looked pretty weak back there trying to hide it. Boss, while beating eaten slowly alive. I ain’t like too some shiet out there, fuckin bugs for instance, you should have told me something. He pulled a chair and sat in front of her leaning a bit forward.

- It ain’t like that Gage, it’s paralyzing me, bringing those flashes from back when….the court decided to teach me a lesson. He popped open a bottle of nuka cola and handed it to her. Whatever sugar it has left will help her to boost up some energy.

- Go on Boss…nothin to be ashamed off, get it out. Seeing his surprising willingness to listen she continued after taking a sip.

- I thought i was doing something good, wanted to deliver justice at every corner. It didn’t matter to me that the man i was defending had a crime past. He found out the court was corrupted, cops too, making up their own evidences and shit. He got pulled up there and i did what felt right, defended him. The judge…didn’t like it…i ended up in a dirty cellar, pulled out of my office and tortured. Gage crouched by her side and put the hand on her shoulder.

- You don’t have to continue if its too much, Boss. He slowly raised her head with his fingers to look at her. She swallowed hardly yet another sip of cola.

- They said i needed my righteous bitchy mouth cleaned and they brought them….leeches, fucking hell, the disgust and pain… even if time went ahead two hundred years, for me it still feels so recent. Lucy left out a deep sad sight and looked raider in the eye.

- After that my..boss found out that calmex would calm me and dull the unnecessary memories and feelings during my jobs, making me more efficient and..i got addicted, pretty badly. Sorry i didn’t tell you, it just felt…stupid to share something like this. She pulled herself up, worried about his response but started putting her gear together, herself too. He stopped her by putting the hands on her hips and turning her around to face him.

- Hey we are in this together, our plan, fight, hell even fears included i don’t care what crap else, we are partners Boss. If u have a problem, we will fucking solve it, okay? I’m sorry for what happened to you, i truly am, fuck, but just…stop hiding shit from me, no matter how dumb it might feel for ya. Alright? They nodded at each other as an agreement and to her surprise Gage handed her back all the calmex syringes. - You will still need them here, that ain’t something u solve in one evening Boss but…we will get to that okay? Now let’s exterminate that shithole.

They came back, dirty from dust and blood, with a few bites too to the Fizztop but again successful, in the favor of Operators. As the drugs cleared out of Lucy blood system she rushed to the bathroom, ignoring the Gage’s yelling behind, pushing the door after her but still leaving an open crack. She had a strong urge to just take off her armor and clothes and scratch everything down with water from her. To her luck there was already one filled bucket under the sink. She undressed to her underwear and without hesitation grabbed a handle and threw it all over herself throwing the empty bucket aside. Gage heard all those noises and curiously peeked through the door small opening. She looked so desperate, rushing and harshly rubbing hands against her skin. Even the black dust around her eyes looked more dramatic than ever, smeared downwards and to the sides. He respected the boss privacy more than ever but this time it was just an act of care, reason, maybe something more that made him cross the line of the door.

-Hey, its over. Just, shit, try to calm down Boss. She stopped and looked at him, a bit embarrassed but slightly angry of being disrupted like that in the state she was.

- I am calming down, right now, can’t ya fucking see?! She groaned but realized shortly he deserved a better response -Shit…sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at ya, you helped me get through back there but…i would like to be alone now. She sighted, grabbed her dumped clothes from the floor and slowly walked past him but his lower arm grabbing her around the waist stopped her. The pile of clothes flew from her hands down as he turned her around and pulled towards him.

- No…that ain’t an option, not before i get to see that face back to its usual shape. He said with a low voice, almost growling, putting his other hand under her cheek, brushing his fingers through her wet hair.

- What the fuck are y-- He leaned to kiss her before she could ask anything more or worse, punch him in the face. Lucy decided to leave those two options for another occasion as her mind drifted off from the anger and stress, surprised by the raider move but fully committed to these few seconds.

- Shit. As Gage pulled off he expected at least a slap but her hands instead landed around his neck. His confidence allowed him only to stand still, looking down at her as he wasn’t really a man of many words, especially in these kind of situations.

- I didn’t expect you have it in you. She bit her lower lip. -You can go on, if you feel like. She raised her eyebrow at him letting a slight smirk twitch on her face.

- Fuck..i do feel like, Boss. He grabbed her by the ass and pushed up. She allowed it, wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling him for another kiss, deeper and longer that round. Gage pushed her against the wall for better balance.

They kept it for a while but raider didn’t cross the next line yet, didn’t want too and neither respect would allow him this time. He lowered her back as she pulled off. - You look better, Boss, especially with that blush of your face. He joked, trying to relax the atmosphere after, mostly for himself.

- Thanks to you, i guess. She brushed her cheek and smiled, turning her head away.

They stood for a moment but Lucy decided to not ask any more questions, keeping these incidents as unprofessional as they can get and as much as he wanted to. Felt easier that way, not knowing what next day might bring.

- You up for a small drink at patio before hitting the bed? She asked while gathering her clothes, scattered around the floor.

- Actually, why the hell not, Boss. Business talk this time tho. He grinned and followed her to the patio.

The rest of the evening they indeed, drank and talked, sharing some more of their past and joking around. She felt good around him, safe even, slowly letting the thought of trust slip in and let her guard down at last. She drank down her last glass of booze before hitting him with last question.

- Hey, can i sleep with you here, from now on? I still dislike open spaces like that but maybe with you around it will feel better. Gage paused, holding the glass at his lips putting it down slowly.

- Do you mean fu...?

- No, no. Just sleeping Gage, jezz. I will keep hands to myself too unless you feel like breaking some rules. She chuckled covering her smirk with a hand.

- You better keep these hands away from my smokes. He joked back. - Okay, Boss, if you want to, i won’t kick you away, not on purpose at least.

It been hell of a time since they both slept with someone, sharing a pair of mattresses. Gage let her fall asleep first before he took down his eyepatch, wrapping it around his hand and turning his back to her. Lucy still kept her knife under the pillow but not for him this round.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #nuka world #lucy's diary #lucy feit #porter gage #screenshot #smooching #thrax's action poses #pose it mod

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jcmorgenstern · 5 years

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@superohclair oh god okay please know these are all just incoherent ramblings so like, idk, please feel free to add on or ignore me if im just wildly off base but this is a bad summary of what ive been thinking about and also my first titans/batman meta?? (also, hi!)

okay so for the disclaimer round: I am not an actual cultural studies major, nor do I have an extensive background in looking at the police/military industrial complex in media. also my comics knowledge is pretty shaky and im a big noob(I recently got into titans, and before that was pretty ignorant of the dceu besides batman) so I’ll kind of focus in on the show and stuff im more familiar with and apologize in advance?. basically im just a semi-educated idiot with Opinions, anyone with more knowledge/expertise please jump in! this is literally just the bullshit I spat out incoherently off the top of my head. did i mention im a comics noob? because im a comics noob.

so on a general level, I think we can all agree that batman as a cultural force is somewhat on the conservative side, if not simply due to its age and commercial positioning in American culture. there are a lot of challenges and nuances to that and it’s definitely expanding and changing as DC tries to position itself in the way that will...make the most money, but all you have to do is take a gander through the different iterations of the stories in the comics and it’ll smack you in the fucking face. like compare the first iteration of Jason keeping kids out of drugs to the titans version and you’ve got to at least chuckle. at the end of the day, this is a story about a (white male) billionaire who fights crime.

to be fair, I’d argue the romanticization of the police isn’t as aggressive as it could be—they are most often presented as corrupt and incompetent. However, considering the main cop characters depicted like Jim Gordon, the guys in Gotham (it’s been a while since I saw it, sorry) are often the romanticized “good few” (and often or almost always white cis/het men), that’s on pretty shaky ground. I don’t have the background in the comics strong enough to make specific arguments, so I’ll cede the point to someone who does and disagrees, but having recently watched a show that deals excellently with police incompetence, racism, and brutality (7 Seconds on Netflix), I feel at the very least something is deeply missing. like, analysis of race wrt police brutality in any aspect at all whatsoever.

I think it can be compellingly read that batman does heavily play into the military/police industrial complex due to its takes on violence—just play the Arkham games for more than an hour and you’ll know what I mean. to be a little less vague, even though batman as a franchise valorizes “psychiatric treatment” and “nonviolence,” the entire game seems pretty aware it characterizes treatment as a madhouse and nonviolence as breaking someone’s back or neck magically without killing them because you’re a “good guy.” while it is definitely subversive that the franchise even considers these elements at all, they don’t always do a fantastic job living up to them.

and then when you consider the fetishization of tools of violence both in canon and in the fandom, it gets worse. same with prisons—if anything it dehumanizes people in prisons even more than like, cop shows in general, which is pretty impressive(ly bad). like there’s just no nuance afforded and arkham is generally glamorized. the fact that one of the inmates is a crocodile assassin, I will admit, does not help. im not really sure how to mitigate that when, again, one of the inmates is a crocodile assassin, but I think my point still stands. fuck you, killer croc. (im just kidding unfuck him or whatever)

not to take this on a Jason Todd tangent but I was thinking about it this afternoon and again when thinking about that cop scene again and in many ways he does serve as a challenge to both batman’s ideology as well as the ideology of the franchise in general. his depiction is always a bit of a sticking point and it’s always fascinating to me to see how any given adaptation handles it. like Jason’s “”street”” origin has become inseparable from his characterization as an angry, brash, violent kid, and that in itself reflects a whole host of cultural stereotypes that I might argue occasionally/often dip into racialized tropes (like just imagine if he wasn’t white, ok). red hood (a play on robin hood and the outlaws, as I just realized...today) is in my exposure/experience mostly depicted as a villain, but he challenges batman’s no-kill philosophy both on an ethical and practical level. every time the joker escapes he kills a whole score more of innocent people, let alone the other rogues—is it truly ethical to let him live or avoid killing him for the cost of one life and let others die?

moreover, batman’s ““blind”” faith in the justice system (prisons, publicly-funded asylum prisons, courts) is conveniently elided—the story usually ends when he drops bad guy of the day off at arkham or ties up the bad guys and lets the police come etc etc. part of this is obviously bc car chases are more cinematic than dry court procedurals, but there is an alternate universe where bruce wayne never becomes batman and instead advocates for the arkham warden to be replaced with someone competent and the system overhauled, or in programs encouraging a more diverse and educated police force, or even into social welfare programs. (I am vaguely aware this is sometimes/often part of canon, but I don’t think it’s fair to say it’s the main focus. and again, I get it’s not nearly as cinematic).

overall, I think the most frustrating thing about the batman franchise or at least what I’ve seen or read of it is that while it does attempt to deal with corruption and injustice at all levels of the criminal justice system/government, it does so either by treating it as “just how life is” or having Dick or Jim Gordon or whoever the fuckjust wipe it out by “eliminating the dirty cops,” completely ignoring the non-fantasy ways these problems are dealt with in real life. it just isn’t realistic. instead of putting restrictions on police violence or educating cops on how to use their weapons or putting work into eradicating the culture of racism and prejudice or god basically anything it’s just all cinematized into the “good few” triumphing over the bad...somehow. its always unsatisfying and ultimately feels like lip service to me, personally.

this also dovetails with the very frustrating way mental health/”insanity” or “madness” is dealt with in canon, very typical of mainstream fiction. like for example:“madness is like gravity, all it takes is a little push.” yikes, if by ‘push’ you mean significant life stressors, genetic load, and environemntal influences, then sure. challenge any dudebro joker fanboy to explain exactly what combination of DSM disorders the joker has to explain his “””insanity””” and see what happens. (these are, in fact, my plans for this Friday evening. im a hit at parties).

anyway I do really want to wax poetic about that cop scene in 1x06 so im gonna do just that! honestly when I first saw that I immediately sat up like I’d sat on a fucking tack, my cultural studies senses were tingling. the whole “fuck batman” ethos of the show had already been interesting to me, esp in s1, when bruce was basically standing in for the baby boomers and dick being our millennial/GenX hero. I do think dick was explicitly intended to appeal to a millennial audience and embody the millennial ethos. By that logic, the tension between dick and Jason immediately struck me as allegorical (Jason constantly commenting on dick being old, outdated, using slang dick doesn’t understand and generally being full of youthful obnoxious fistbumping energy).

Even if subconsciously on the part of the writers, jason’s over-aggressive energy can be read as a commentary on genZ—seen by mainstream millennial/GenX audiences as taking things too far. Like, the cops in 1x06 could have been Nick Zucco’s hired men or idk pretty much anyone, yet they explicitly chose cops and even had Jason explain why he deliberately went after them for being cops so dick (cop) could judge him for it. his rationale? he was beaten up by cops on the street, so he’s returning the favor. he doesn’t have the focused “righteous” rage of batman or dick/nightwing towards valid targets, he just has rage at the world and specifically the system—framed here as unacceptable or fanatical. as if like, dressing up like a bat and punching people at night is, um, totally normal and uncontroversial.

on a slightly wider scope, the show seems to internally struggle with its own progressive ethos—on the one hand, they hire the wildly talented chellah man, but on the other hand they will likely kill him off soon. or they cast anna diop, drawing wrath from the loudly racist underbelly of fandom, but sideline her. perhaps it’s a genuine struggle, perhaps they simply don’t want to alienate the bigots in the fanbase, but the issue of cops stuck out to me when I was watching as an social issue where they explicitly came down on one side over the other. jason’s characterization is, I admit and appreciate, still nuanced, but I’d argue that’s literally just bc he’s a white guy and a fan favorite. cast an actor of color as Jason and see how fast fandom and the writer’s room turns on him.

anyway i don’t really have the place to speak about what an explicitly nonwhite!cop!dick grayson would look like, but I do think it would be a fascinating and exciting place to start in exploring and correcting the kind of vague and nebulous complaints i raise above. (edit: i should have made more clear, i mean in the show, which hasn’t dealt with dick’s heritage afaik). also, there’s something to be said about the cop vs detective thing but I don’t really have the brain juice or expertise to say it? anyway if you got this far i hope it was at least interesting and again pls jump in id love to hear other people’s takes!!

tldr i took two (2) cultural studies classes and have Opinions

#wow this was a hot fucking mess #i tried to be organized but my thoughts weren't coming out super well #again anyone interested please feel free to jump in or correct me at any place you feel like #i die on the ''jason todd would be treated horribly by fandom if he were a character of color' hill tho #i could go on about 1x06 until im blue in the face but that's the uhh overview. the executive summary.#dc titans #i need meta tags and shit for this show #god help me in too deep #finding the meta side of fandom was a GIFT tho i love this shit #so excited

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captainamerivel · 5 years

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infinity war

read part one : civil war here.

word count : 2.9k (she’s a beefy sister)

tags : @batfam16

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“Y/L/N?”

“Rhodey, this better be important. I’m working right now.” You popped another donut hole in your mouth, pulling your glasses down to get a better view of the Midtown High bus. “Peter had a field trip today and I’m supposed to make sure he makes it back to the school.”

“There’s been a string of vigilante attacks in the United Kingdom. Specifically, near Glasgow.”

“What exactly do you want me to do about that?” You started your bike and pulled out into traffic, quickly weaving your way through cars until you were behind the bus.

“Tony’s got a plane waiting for you upstate, wants you to go check it out.”

“And Tony couldn’t tell me this himself?”

“He’s got a cake tasting with Pepper this morning. Also, thinks you’ll have better luck if you get up there and it’s them.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “He’s been looking for them for two years. Every lead we’ve had has led to a dead end. There’s really no point in wasting resources on this anymore.”

“If you want to try to explain that to him, please be my guest.”

“I’ll be on the plane, Rhodey.” You hung up, pulling the communicator out of your ear and speeding up until you were right next to the bus. Peter spotted you out of the corner of his eye and gave you a small wave before you sped past with a smile.

“Can I get you anything to drink Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Oh no thank you, Marissa.” You smiled up at the flight attendant. “Do you know when we’ll be landing?”

“Our flight is just a touch under seven hours ma’am.”

You waited until she disappeared behind the curtain to stand and open the suitcase you’d been given at the helipad.

Hope you like the new design. -TS

“What is this obsession you have with putting everyone in gold, Stark?” You smirked as the suit sprang up out of the case. It was sleek and soft, despite the design notes stating it was made entirely of nanotechnology. The dark blue material was absolutely gorgeous, with its red and gold accents and the bracelet it all fit into was a perfectly covert piece of jewelry.

You had just finished changing when the news on the plane’s television caught your eye.

ATTACK IN NEW YORK CITY: IRON MAN AND SPIDERMAN SPOTTED DEFENDING CITY AGAINST UNKNOWN ALIENS.

You were on the phone immediately. “Rhodey, what the hell is going on?”

“No clue.” You could hear the panic in his voice. “That huge donut looking thing just dropped out of the sky and the Iron Spider suit just flew out of the compound. Turn the plane around, I’m sending a car for you.”

“No need.” Your mask materialized over your face with just a thought. “I can get there faster on foot.”

You opened the loading dock and sent up a silent prayer before jumping out.

“What do you mean they’re in space!”

Rhodey kept his eyes on you as you paced the conference room. “One job! I had one job and that was to make sure that the kid got back to Midtown safely and now you’re telling me that he’s in space? How am I supposed to explain this to his aunt? ‘Sorry May, Peter’s in space because I was on my way to chase down my ex and his band of rogue superheroes in Europe.’”

Your hand slammed down on the table, glass shattering under you.

“You done?”

You nodded, picking shards out of your skin. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He unmuted his phone, the hologram of Secretary Ross popping back up. “Secretary, Agent Y/L/N has expressed some concern with how to explain the disappearance of both Mr. Stark and Mr. Parker.”

“That’s nowhere near our main concern right now. Still no word from Vision?”

“Satellites lost him somewhere over Edinburgh.”

“On a stolen quinjet with four of the world’s most wanted criminals.”

“You know they’re only criminals because you’ve chosen to call them that right?” Rhodey sounded exhausted.

You tuned out their conversation, instead focusing on getting the rest of the glass out of your hand. It’s never ceased to amaze you, what your body could do now as opposed to before you’d taken Tony’s version of the super soldier serum. The enhanced ability to heal yourself was a step up from the original, and oh boy were you grateful it was. Watching your hand practically stitch itself back up was calming, to say the least, borderlining on cathartic

“Mr. Secretary.”

You looked up at the sound of his voice. There, with a full beard, a filthy suit and the same righteous tick in his stance that he always had, was Steve Rogers. His eyes met yours and you saw something, confusion maybe, flash in them.

Ross walked toward the groups of rogues. “You got some nerve. I’ll give you that.”

“You could use some of that right now.” The sound of Natasha’s voice made your lips twitch into a small smile. The pain of losing her was the only thing that rivaled that of losing Steve.

“The world’s on fire. And you think all is forgiven?”

Steve’s eyes finally tore from yours. “I’m not looking for forgiveness. And I’m way past asking for permission. Earth just lost her best defender. So we’re here to fight. And if you want to stand in our way, we’ll fight you too.”

“Arrest them.”

“All over it.” Rhodey hung up and as Bruce stepped into the room, you took that as your cue to quietly slip out. You didn’t make it too far before Steve caught up with you.

“What happened to you?”

“What does it matter to you, Rogers? You left, remember?”

“I left to protect you, Y/N. You didn’t deserve to be dragged down the path that I was going.” His voice was rougher than you remembered as he took in your harder appearance and suit. “I wanted you to move on with your life. Hopefully, return to something even close to normal.”

“You made your choices. I made mine.”

“What did you do to yourself?” He reached for you, but you stepped out of his reach.

“My life is none of your business anymore Steve. You decided that when you left without so much as a goodbye. So, whatever I do, whatever decisions made, are none of your concern.”

You stepped past him, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.

“Hey, beautiful.” Natasha wrapped her around you, and you let out a shaky breath as you returned her embrace. “These last few years haven’t been the nicest to you, I see.”

“Love the haircut.” You redirected the conversation. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Bruce called. Said some guy named Thanos was coming, then Vision was attacked by this creepy looking thing and we knew we couldn’t fight this one alone.”

“So, what exactly do we do?” Everyone turned to Bruce as he began to explain everything he knew.

You tried to focus on what Bruce was saying, tried not to notice Steve staring at you from across the table. But you couldn’t deny the slight increase in your heart rate every time your eyes met his or the noticeable change in his expression when Vision suggested that Wanda destroy the Mind Stone.

“I'm saying that if we take out the stone, there's still a whole lot of Vision left. Perhaps the best parts.”

Steve’s eyes met yours once more and for the first time since you’d known him, you saw something other than just fight in them. You saw fear.

“So, can we take out the stone?”

“Not me,” Bruce’s voice was unsure, confidence gone. “Not here.”

Rhodey cocked an eyebrow. “Well, you better find someone and somewhere. Fast. Ross isn’t exactly just gonna let you guys have your old rooms back.”

“I know a place.”

You hung to the back as everyone piled off the quinjet. Despite meeting the King years ago, you were still incredibly shy. It didn’t help that his guards intimidated you to no end.

“You must be Y/N.” James Barnes stood in front of you with a soft smile. “Steve’s told me a lot about you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Steve’s cheeks heating up in embarrassment. You shook Bucky’s hand. “Likewise. Some days, it almost felt like he was more in love with you than me.”

His laugh was warm. “No way. The way Steve talks about you is unparalleled. I’ve never heard anyone more in love than his. Except maybe me when I’m talking about New York pizza.”

You laughed to try and ignore the ache that had settled in your heart. If only…

“We should get inside.” You swallowed thickly, nodding at Natasha’s words. “Vision’s not going to save himself. Sam, Buck, Rhodey. Stay out here and keep watch.”

She kept a comforting hand on your back as you made your way into the palace where Shuri was waiting. You tried your hardest to keep up with all the scientific mumbo jumbo, but not even your prolonged exposure to Tony Stark could have helped you. You did understand when the ground started shaking and there was an explosion outside.

“Something’s just entered the atmosphere.”

A quick look out the window confirmed that Wakanda had come under attack. There was a series of glances among everyone.

“Wanda. As soon as that stone’s out of Vision’s head, you blow it to hell.”

You smirked, Steve’s voice taking on that authoritative tone you’d fallen in love with. There was a commotion, everyone moving into position, with most heading out to the battlefield. Your masked quickly materialized over your face as you moved to join them.

Steve grabbed your arm. “Y/N, stay up here.”

“Absolutely not!” You yanked away from him.

“I can’t protect you down there!”

“I’ve never asked you to protect me, Steve!” You made sure you could see all of your face as the emotions of the past couple of years came tumbling out of you. “I didn’t ask for you to let me go, you chose that on your own! Now, I’m just as strong as you and I sure as hell don’t need your protection! Let me go!”

You stared at each other, chests heaving. “If you die down there, I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

“Then let’s hope I don’t die.”

He nodded and followed as you ran down to the battlefield. He helped you up onto the vehicle that held the rest of the soldiers and you rode to the edge of the country, comforted that he was close behind you.

“Just keep an eye on your six, okay?” He whispered in your ear when you’d climbed out.

“Yes, Captain.”

You watched as Nat, Steve and T’Challa walked to the edge of the barrier, where a couple of evil looking aliens stood. The shorter of the two, a woman, tests it by drawing her sword across it.

“What the hell is going on?” The three ran back as giant pillars rose from the ground and feral mutants poured out.

“Yibambe! Yibambe! Yibambe! Yibambe! Yibambe!”

“This way above my pay grade.” You muttered to yourself as the mutants charged the barrier, most killing themselves in the process. You didn’t have a gun, so you there wasn’t really much you could do to those that managed to breach.

Bruce was the first to voice what you were sure everyone was thinking. “Cap, if those things circle the perimeter and get in behind us, there’s nothing between them and Vision.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Then we better keep them in front of us.”

The next thing you knew, the shimmering blue of the barrier was separating and you were charging along next to Steve and T’Challa, slicing through every demon you came in contact with. Thank the heavens for super speed.

There was no strategy to the way you fought, no reason to how you killed. You quickly learned that the mutants had a heart near the same place yours was and that was the quickest way to kill them. Your nanotech knife expanded, making it quicker and easier for you to take the things down.

There was a sharp bite in the side of your stomach and you screamed. Steve was quick to shove a vibranium arm guard into your attacker and pull it off of you.

“Thought I told you not to die.” He helped you off the ground, quickly returning to the fight. You rolled your eyes with a smirk, returning to your task. Leaping off the ground, a bunch of tiny nanotech knives flew off your suit and took out the mob of aliens that would have otherwise overpowered you. Steve saw from the corner of his eye and smirked. “Show off.”

“I’ve got a lot of tricks that you don’t know about, Captain.”

“There’s too many of them!” You turned to where the aliens were piling on top of the Hulkbuster, but before you could help, a rain of light came down in the middle of the battlefield, briefly blinding you. Something came flying out of the light, killing a mass of aliens. When the light disappeared, there stood Thor with a gun-wielding raccoon on his shoulder and tree with arms.

“BRING ME THANOS!” He screamed, leaping and crashing his giant axe into the monsters.

“Is it just me or does he look really good?” You teased.

“Eyes on the mission, Y/N!” You couldn’t help but laugh at the obvious jealousy in Steve’s tone.

You chuckled and returned to fighting. It was almost too easy. You were in nirvana, almost mindlessly killing every single alien that got close to you. Of course, you acquired a few bites and bruises along the way, but they healed almost as soon as they’d appeared.

You didn’t see when the giant wheels came up out of the ground, but you saw when Wanda descended and stepped them.

“Why was she up there all that time?” You chuckled at Okoye.

“Guy’s, we’ve got a Vision situation.”

“I’m on it!” You and Bruce yelled at the same time.

You ran as fast as you could, knife hooking onto the alien that had Vision and dragging you along. It shook you off and you hit the ground, knocking the wind from your lungs.

“Now, I’m pissed.” You growled, slowly picking yourself up.

Getting to Vision was no easy task, and when you got there, the alien was waiting for you.

“You’re a formidable opponent,” he growled, shoving his spear into your stomach. You gasped for breath.

He dropped you when Vision appeared behind him. You laid there as they fought, desperately willing your body to heal itself.

“Steve,” you called. “I’m down.”

“Then get up!”

“Vision needs help.” There were holes in your line of sight. You could barely breathe, barely stay conscious as all of your energy was focused into repairing your wound. You didn’t see when Steve ran over to you.

“Get up.” He was quick to pull you to your feet, gentle arm wrapped around your waist. “I told you, you can’t die out here.”

Suddenly, the entire mood changed. The wind was different. You were still trying to repair the hole in your stomach, but your adrenaline spiked.

“Everyone, on my position. We have incoming.” Steve made sure you were steady before letting go of you.

Turning, you watched as a cloud of blue and black opened up. Out stepped a giant purple thing that you immediately recognized, courtesy of Bruce’s description.

“I’m guessing that’s Thanos?” You grumbled.

“Cap. That’s him.”

“Eye’s up.” Steve cocked his arm guards. “Stay sharp.”

Everything happened as though it were slow motion. One by one, you charged at Thanos and one by one, he flung you away like an annoying bug. You didn’t even have time to register it as he trapped you beneath a pile of rocks.

You watched as Wanda used her powers to try to destroy the Mind Stone while Steve grabbed onto Thanos. The purple giant didn’t hesitate to slam a fist into his head, knocking him unconscious.

“Steve!”

You cried, struggling under your restraints. You couldn’t do anything but watch as Thanos used the time stone to revive Vision, then just rip it out of his head. Before he could snap though, Thor’s axe flew straight into his chest.

“I told you. You die for that.”

Thanos just smirked. “You… should have gone for the head.”

His fingers snapped, a wave of energy washing over everything before he just sunk back into a blue cloud. The rocks on top of you melted away.

“Steve, what’s happening?” There was a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach. It felt like you were being both torn apart and stitched together at the same time.

“Y/N?” Steve started walking towards you, but you were gone before he got there.

To Be Concluded…

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kiapet2 · 3 years

Text

Aperture Sides Facility, Chapter 15: Still Alive

Masterpost

Chapter Summary: Thomas' final battle.

Chapter Warnings: Description of Serious Injury, Death Mention

“Are you ready?” you say to Virgil.

Logan nods. “Quite.”

You take a deep breath, then let it out. “Right.”

Carrying Logan, you step back into the Control Chamber.

Patton looks up from where he was hunched over, muttering to himself. “Thomas! Lo! You came back! Oh, I’m so glad!”

“Yeah, we came back,” you say. “To help you.”

Patton puts on a bright smile. “Help me? With what, silly?”

“That timer’s about to run out,” Logan says. “I would consider that a serious matter, wouldn’t you?”

Patton casts a worried glance at it, then turns back to you. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” he says, false cheer growing increasingly brittle.

“Now!” you shout to the room, and the pipe you previously broke- the one that spews Conversion Gel- begins flowing again.

“You have someone else controlling things in here?” Patton says. “That’s not very nice.”

While Patton is distracted, you jump forward and jam Logan onto the lowest port on Patton’s long body, connecting him to it.

Patton rears back. “Whoa- what did you do to me?”

“Hello, Patton,” Logan says. “I must inform you that you are behaving most illogically. When a task is out of your sole capabilities, it makes sense to ask for help.”

“Get- out- of my- head!” Patton growls, writhing back and forth, but Logan is stuck fast.

The plan is simple, really. The Cores may not have administrative access without Patton granting it to them, but that doesn’t mean they can’t influence him to some degree. He’s getting everyone’s love and support, whether he wants it or not.

While Patton is focused on Logan, you’ve been using your portals to spread the Conversion Gel as much around the room as you can. While the first port was low enough to reach by jumping, the rest will require more creative approaches.

Up near the catwalk, Janus’ voice says, and you look up to see Roman dangling from a grabby arm, enthusiastically waving with on handle. You run towards it, narrowly dodging another grabby arm that Patton sends at you, then get up onto the catwalk itself with a pair of portals.

“Greetings, brave adventurer!” Roman declares as you approach. “Are you ready to have an adventure?”

“I think we’re already having it, Ro,” you say, smiling at him to soften the teasing.

“Stop!” Patton yells. “Stop fighting me, I don’t want to fight you!”

“Too late for that, I’m afraid,” Roman says, as you take a flying leap off the catwalk and secure him onto another one of the Core ports.

“Aaah!” Patton cries, shaking his head again.

“Come now, Padre,” Roman says gently. “Can’t you see all the creative ways we could work this out? You don’t have to brute force it, you know.”

“I’m doing… what needs to be done!” Patton grates out. A grabby arm lashes out at you, and you dodge enough to not get grabbed but not enough to not get hit. You’re knocked to the side and come to a rolling stop on the floor. You take a brief moment to take stock: you’re sore, but don’t think anything is broken.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry Thomas!” Patton says. “Are you alright?”

The irony of that one has you laughing as you clamber to your feet and look upwards for the next Core.

Next one, hanging from the ceiling, Janus says.

You look up, and sure enough there’s Remus, swinging from a cord and cheering all the way. Honestly, does Janus have to put them in the hardest to get spots?

This time you do a good old fashioned double fling maneuver, launching yourself upwards and out and grabbing Remus on the way by.

“Hey baby, come here often?” Remus says.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “Hold on, it’s going to be an interesting ride.”

“My favorite!” Remus says as you jump through a portal to avoid a grabby arm Patton is sending at you. You perform another double launch, Remus cheering the whole way, and then deposit him onto Patton on the way down.

“Nooooooooo,” Patton groans, “Why him?”

“Because I’m important, Patty-cake,” Remus says good-naturedly. “Gotta expand those horizons, y’know?”

Perhaps because of the Remus-exposure, Patton’s efforts to grab you seem to double, and you spend the next several seconds using portals to barely dodge out of the way.

“Sup,” someone behind you says as you’re pulling to a brief stop. You jump, then turn around with a grin.

“Did you get him into place?” you say.

“Yup,” Virgil says, giving you a two-fingered salute. “Duty performed.”

“Let’s go then,” you say, grabbing hold of him and getting a running start.

This time you jump like you did with Logan, but since Virgil can float he adds his own force to the leap, carrying you farther than you could do on your own. You press him into one of the two remaining Core ports, making sure not to be too rough, then let gravity carry you down.

“Patton,” Virgil says urgently, “Look at the clock. We have less than two minutes left until we all die. Something needs to change, and change right now.”

Patton is shaking now, moving his head from side to side, lights on his body flickering idly.

His head comes up to look at you. “Why are you doing this?”

You come forward, one step and then another. “Like I said at the start, Pat. I’m trying to help you. All of us are.”

“Help me do what?” Patton says raggedly.

“Help you to let go,” a low, smooth voice says from behind you.

You turn to see Janus rising up from the floor, already secured into a replacement receptacle.

Patton’s eye blows wide. “No! No, I told you I wouldn’t do that!”

“We’re not trying to replace you, Pat,” you say, pleading. “The spot you’re in now is Janus’, yes, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t have one too! That doesn’t mean that you’re not just as important.”

“I’ve been trying,” Patton says, sounding on the verge of tears. “I’ve been trying so hard to make things right, but it never works the way I want it to.”

“I know,” you say, heart weeping for him. “We never should have asked you to do this alone. You were never meant to! You need each other, Patton! You were all meant to run this place, together! Please, let us help you!”

“No,” Patton says, pulling back, “No, I can’t trust him.”

“And why not? We worked together once, remember? Was it that terrible, that you never want to do it again?” Janus says.

Patton shakes his head. “Shut up, no.”

“Why are you fighting this so hard, Patton?”

“I’m not listening, I’m- I’m not-”

“Just admit it! Somewhere deep down, you like the power, don’t you? You don’t want to give it up.”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

As if on reflex, a torpedo shoots out of Patton’s mainframe, headed straight for Janus.

Time seems to slow down. You can practically see what’s about to happen: The torpedo speeding straight to where Janus is still locked in place, helpless. Janus exploding into pieces of metal, plastic and plant matter; pragmatism, bone-dry wit and a surprising amount of care for those close to him all gone in an instant, and with him any hope of finding a true balance.

Your feet move as if on their own, and in a flash you find yourself staring down the torpedo’s path.

Time snaps back into place as you feel a heavy impact against your torso, one that throws you backwards with a boom that seems to resonate through your entire body. There’s a spike of pain as your back hits something hard and then another jolt as your body hits the ground.

Your vision blurs as the world narrows down to pain. Your abdomen feels like it’s on fire and you whimper, curling in on yourself. Distantly, you hear a litany of voices screaming something- your name? It’s hard to focus enough to tell.

Gritting your teeth, you take a deep, shaky breath and start to forcibly pull your thoughts together, shoving the pain down to the back of your mind. As you do, you gradually become aware of Patton’s voice, frantic and shrill.

“Oh God, oh God Thomas, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean to do what? Try to kill me? Because that’s what it looked like you were doing.”

“No, I- I was just trying to stop you!”

“From what? Hurting Thomas? Destroying this facility? I think you’re doing a fine job of that on your own.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Patton says, voice small.

“Maybe,” Janus says, “but you’ve taken it too far.”

“I- I can fix it,” Patton repeats, desperation coloring his voice. He looks at each of the cores attached to him in turn, but none of them will meet his gaze. “Please, I can fix it, I-”

He droops suddenly, closing his eye.

“No,” Patton whispers. “No, I can’t, can I?”

There’s a pause in which no one dares move. Then Patton opens his eye, mechanical body straightening.

“You’re right. You’re- you’re all right. I’m the problem here.”

He raises his voice. “I’m ready to start the replacement procedure!”

Replacement procedure permission received. Please remain clear of the transfer bay.

You watch, rapt with excitement and relief, as metal arms once again come up from the ground and seize Patton, the Core closing his eyes and letting them pull him down into the floor. Janus similarly sinks down in his port, and sounds start up indicating the change is taking place.

“Thomas!” Virgil shouts. “The detonator!”

The-

You look up just in time to watch the timer ticking down its last couple of seconds.

5, 4, 3...

No. No, it can’t, not when you all went through so much to get to this point, not when you were so close… Frantically, you look back to the mainframe, but Patton and Janus are still in the process of switching; there’s no way any of them will be ready to stop this in time.

Initiating Self-Destruct.

A boom echoes through the facility and the ground jolts beneath you as the bombs begin to go off, one by one.

You’re too late. If you could get rid of the detonator you could maybe interrupt the signal before enough bombs went off to destroy the facility, but without any way to do so, you’re just left with waiting to die.

A panel falls off the ceiling, and for the first time you can see the sky.

It’s a deep, dark blue, nearly exactly the shade of Logan’s eye. Little prinpicks of light shine within it- stars, your mind supplies- but what really draws your attention is the round, white glow of the moon. You don’t know if you should feel thankful, to see such a beautiful view before you die, or to feel bitter at the reminder of what you will never truly be able to experience.

Wait a minute. The moon.

Words from the past echo through your mind. Remus, calling Conversion Gel “Moon Juice”, declaring, That’s what it’s made of, so that’s what I call it! Cave Johnson, saying in his announcements, And guess what? Ground up moon rocks are pure poison.

Great portal conductors, though.

Moving almost on autopilot, as if in a dream, you shoot one portal onto the ceiling, right above the detonator, then turn and shoot the other directly at the moon.

For a moment, nothing seems to happen, and your heart drops as you realize you’re about to die.

Then there’s a little sparkle of light on the moon, almost indistinguishable if you hadn’t been paying such rapt attention, and suddenly the room being filled with a torrent of wind as everything not held down, including the air, is sucked towards the Portal, pulled in by the vacuum of space.

You reach out and loop an arm and a leg around a nearby metal beam to anchor yourself, then watch as the detonator is blown out through the portal. The shaking of the facility stops after a few seconds, and for a brief moment you let yourself relax.

Then Patton pops back out of the floor, the replacement process completed, and immediately the vacuum force takes hold of him and sends him careening up and towards the portal. One thought, one fact dominates your mind in that instant: if Patton goes through that portal, he’ll be gone. Lost forever to the endless expanse of space.

You will never let that happen.

Releasing your hold on your anchor, you run and launch yourself forwards, jumping up with all the strength you’ve acquired in your time running and jumping around this facility. Your hand closes around Patton’s handle and then suddenly you’re being sucked upwards towards the portal with him. You reach your other hand out and grab onto a broken cable to keep yourself from being blown out into space, the strain of holding onto both it and Patton causing your abdomen to reignite with blazing pain.

A piece of metal flies up and connects with your head, sending it snapping back in a flash of pain and disorientation. You blink blood out of your eyes and find that your grip has slid until you’re mere inches from sliding off the cable and being pulled into space.

Patton’s pale blue eye rotates to look at you.

“Thomas,” he says, his voice achingly tired, “Kiddo. It’s okay. Just let me go.”

You grit your teeth and tighten your grip on both Patton’s handle and the cable, the vacuum force pulling on you until you feel like your arms are about to tear off your body.

“We’re all getting out of this,” you grit out. “Every one of us, Patton.”

Your hand gripping the cable slides further, and you know you can’t hold on any longer. You pull Patton’s small, round form to your chest, curling around him just as your sweaty hand slips from the cable and you both go flying up through the portal.

Cold blackness surrounds you and the air whooshes out of your lungs. You shudder as a terrible pressure fills your body, agony building until you’re sure you’ll burst at the seams. You know with a sudden clarity that you’re dying.

Then something grips your waist and you find yourself being pulled back down towards the surface of the moon, the round weight of Patton still clutched against your stomach. Through the haze of your vision you can see the portal’s soft glow, and through that a familiar yellow light.

“I’ve got you,” Janus says firmly. “I’ve got you.”

Then your vision goes dark, and you know no more.

#aperture sides facility #my writing #ts storytime

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firekissedpiper · 5 years

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— ✗ ℕ 𝕆. — ✗ Time Period: Late October 2018. — ✗ TW: Mentions of sexual assault, domestic abuse, parent neglect, parental emotional abuse, hints of abortion. Piper’s entire body was teeming with emotions. It was a weird mix. Nervousness, anxiousness, worry, concern and even a little bit of sadness. She didn’t know what to make of the sadness though. She refused to acknowledge it. She had just kept thinking to herself that after this she could go back to drinking, and partying and living her life. Piper had been sure that somehow, once this problematic struggle was gone, she would be able to forget all about Tomas and those months spent with him. But she’d been sitting there, in that waiting room and her mind had started to close in on her, the truth with it. She looked around, and saw the women in the room with her. There were only about three, two were young, young girls and she couldn’t help but think of the young girls back home who’d scrounged up the cash to run off and get the procedure done before their mothers could find out, before they even knew what they wanted. The same girls who’d end up with botched procedures. And then there was one woman in particular. She was wearing cheap, torn clothes. And she couldn’t stop crying the whole time. Piper was starting to get the sense that everyone here, the woman here didn’t want to be here, or didn’t have the time to learn what they wanted. That one woman had stuck with her though. She could have sworn at one point she’d heard her whisper that she was sorry. Piper was almost eager to get out of there. Even with Elsa being beside her in the seat, she’d been eager to get away from all the emotion. Not because it disgusted her. But because it stuck with her, because it brought emotions on in herself, the same emotions she’d consider weakness in any other circumstance. And so when her name had been called, she’d risen from her chair with shaky legs and walked into the procedure room. Told by the assistant to change into the medical gown and sit down, she made her way over to the folded blue and white piece of material on one of the chairs. The movements to undress were clumsy, as if all of her limbs were numb but eventually she found herself wearing the baggy gown. She felt the cold air on her skin, causing tiny bumps to raise on her flesh. She couldn’t help but feel exposed, and that exposure made her uncomfortable. She carefully walked over to the table and perched herself up on it, letting her fingers curl over the slightly cushioned edge, gripping unconsciously until the point her knuckles were white. She tried to put herself back in the mindset of being able to go back to her life after this, tried to convince herself that this was only a small blip. But as her mind focused on the cheaply clothed woman, crying and apologizing, she couldn’t seem to think of it that way. Almost reluctantly she brought her gaze down to her stomach and swallowed slightly. There was no real swell yet. She’d put on a few pounds since getting pregnant. Five pounds. Even without that swell, she could picture it. The little baby. Just a tiny blip on a screen. A black speck on the grand image of it all, shaped like a peanut. She’d heard people call their babies peanut before. She’d seen pictures of sonograms before, so she could guess that a sonogram of her baby wouldn’t look so different. Once again, she turned away, unable to focus for so long. She was not being forced into being here, not like those teenage girls were, not like that woman seemed to be. For those teenage girls, there was the pressure of parents not finding out she was sure. For the woman, she could guess it had something to do with money, with the fact she could not afford to give a child the life they deserved. Piper did have strict parents. Her mother would go off of her head if she found out. But that was not why she was here, and she knew that. She kept trying to push back the part of her mind, the logical part that told her she wasn’t doing this for the right reasons, or even because she really wanted to. She tried to tell herself she was sure, and that she’d thought it through carefully, and that she wouldn’t regret that. But no matter how much she had told herself in the past hours, she couldn’t convince that small part of her brain to shut up. That small part of her started to dominate once again, and she glanced back to her stomach. The part of her body completely concealed by the loose gown. This time she didn’t picture the little blip on the screen. She couldn’t. The emotional part of her, the one not filled with hurt, betrayal and trauma from what Tomas had done to her, had her picturing what her baby would look like when they were grown. She wondered if they’d have the same dark brown hair as her, or her hazel eyes that seemed to flicker back and forth between what appeared to be a faint, pale grey-brown color and an olive color. She wondered if they’d be a boy or a girl. She pictured their tiny hands, their tiny feet. So small. So helpless. So fragile. Like her. She’d been helpless too, made small and fragile by her circumstance. It hurt to see the picture come together in her mind of the baby. She felt a painful twisting constriction in her chest, felt her throat grow thick, as if a lump was forming in it. She forced herself once more to push the image from her mind. It wouldn’t entirely leave, but she managed to get it away far enough so she could begin to review how she’d been thinking before all over again, trying to see all the downsides of what was happening. There were things she had had to face, problems she’d had already encountered. Traumatic memories that arose every single time a new pregnancy symptom developed. The fear that the child growing inside of her would look like it’s father, or worse act like it’s father. The paralyzing thought that somehow, someway Tomas would find out the baby was his and try to use it as leverage to bring back the engagement, to use her once more as his play toy. The idea that her parents might try to use it as a chance to rearrange the match, the crushing disappointment she would receive from them, and the disbelief she’d face in trying to explain what had happened to her. The lack of access to her booze, and her drugs and her usual wild partying lifestyle. With every reason came a doubt from that growing part of her mind that did not want what she was about to do. With every decision her mind, lacking in rationality, tried to make, there was a counteraction, a new logic brought to it. With the fear of traumatic memories related to her baby, she wondered if there was any real way she’d ever be able to forget what happened. Sometimes she could still feel it in her body, the pain of that night. The pain brought on by both her physical and mental anguish. She could feel the way her knuckles still ached and throbbed sometimes because of the crude way she’d broken them punching Tomas to defend herself. Her sides would still deliver pangs of aching agony every time she turned the wrong way. The way her ribs still felt tender to touch from being broken by Tomas’ boot. Or the way sometimes it was too hard to draw in a complete breath, both from her anxiety and from muscle damage delivered by Tomas’ unyielding fist. The fear that the child would be like its father came to register on a deeper level. How much of Tomas had been biology, and how much the way his parents had let him get away with everything, encouraging and spoiling him growing up? How much was she like her parents? Them being strict and uptight, and her being wild and reckless. Even if she was certain she had no clue what she was doing, even she had to admit she had a few ideas of what not to do when it came to raising the child. The image of Tomas’ eyes and face might haunt her sleep and waking hours every night, but her mind countered that the baby was just as likely to look like her as it was him. If people had judged her because she had a similar hair color to her mother, or her father’s eyes, how far would she have gotten in life? Tomas using the baby as leverage to bring the marriage back about would surely backfire. She had fought for weeks on end with lawyers, explaining the abuse to them in order to barter her right to escape the engagement. They’d had the testaments of guards and workers in the castle to serve in her case. And it’d worked. They’d seen the truth even if her parents couldn’t. Even if she hadn’t talked about the defilement she’d suffered, it wouldn’t be a far jump from what she’d described about him before. As much as the idea of having to recount every detail, or say what had happened out loud repulsed and terrified her, she knew she could do it. She had brought herself to speak of the abuse, she would find her strength if she needed it. Her parents had been disappointed in her before, they hadn’t believed her before. It was all true. She had come to understand just how little her parents truly loved her over the past few years. And she had the logical side of her argued that baby or no baby, her parents would always have something to pick on. They could fight, and they could try to force her back into her engagement, but she had the power of the law on her side surely. Once upon a time, partying and drinking might have been partially for fun. But she was starting to reluctantly understand, in how lost she was without it that it was her crutch. It was something she needed more than she wanted. Before it had helped her cope with the pressures of royal life, of her parents. And in those months after the assault, it hadn’t just become some way to relax and let go. It had become her only means of survival. She’d drank all hours of the day, found parties where she never would have been able to. She’d completely thrown herself into the life. She’d used alcohol to numb the pain, and she’d used the noise and life to drown out the noise in her head. And since she’d been sober, as much as she didn’t like it, her thoughts were her own at least, no dictated by substance. She found her hands gripped so tightly onto the cushioned edge of the table that her nails dug into the leather material, no doubt leaving small crescent imprints where they pushed in. Desperately, she wanted to flick at her usual hairband on her wrist but taken that off before coming. She was bubbling with anxiety and completely conflicted. She couldn’t think properly now that the once small part of her had developed to the point where it conflicted with the part of her that had made the decision to come here in the first place. Once again, she found herself picturing the child. The child she had imagined with her eyes and wispy brown hair. The tiny, fragile baby that had reminded her of herself. She remembered that night so clearly. She remembered being completely alone in a foreign castle. She remembered being ignored and even abused in certain ways by the guards too. But more so, she remembered the day her mother had left her there. ~~ “Mother, I don’t want to stay here,” Piper said, force in her words, trying to exaggerate that she really did not want to have to be here. She hoped desperately that for once in her life that her mother might come to her rescue, that she would protect her. It wasn’t that Tomas had been entirely cruel. He had been cold, and he seemed creepy in a way. Either way, she didn’t like him. She didn’t like his twisted ideas of what a marriage should be, and she didn’t like the idea of being trapped in something she didn’t want for the rest of her life. She had long since abandoned the idea of her mother and her being close. She’d abandoned the idea of having her mother being the magical savior a mother often played to other girls. She knew that the only version she’d ever truly get of her mother would be the one who constantly held her at a distance, used her only for advantage and shamed and scolded her whenever she failed to live up to expectations. But for once, it was so painfully real that she was left without a choice. Her mother had sold her off to an engagement, and she would be left here alone. For once, she wished her mother had been the type to tuck her in at night, and check under her bed for monsters, and sing to her when she still feared they were there even after the check. She craved the mother who would kiss all the little pointless bruises and scrapes, as if the magic of that one little gesture could make any pain just disappear. She wanted the life where her mother had awarded her accomplishments, had encouraged her to do her best. She wanted the mother who could laugh with her, who would dive to her defense whenever needed. She just wanted her mom, more than anything in her world. “What now Piper? Are the parties not trashy enough for you? Or is your fiancé to polite?” Her mother released what sounded like a tired sigh as she pressed her fingers to her forehead. It was almost like she had a headache of some sort. Her mother did often say she had migraines, though Piper was next to certain it was something used to make her feel guilty for being “stress” on her. “Polite?” She almost snorted. “He’s as wound as a thread spool! He thinks that I’ll be spending my life doing his beck and call. He thinks that he has more power over me because he’s male. He’s so stuck in the old ways I feel like I might as well be wearing a corset!” She was frustrated, that was clear. With the situation, with his ideals. Her mother stood up, walking over to her. Her aged hands rested on Piper’s shoulders, and for a second, she almost thought that maybe there was a chance that her mother might show her some sort of sympathy, or love for once. But she should have known by her mother’s stiff shoulders and cold grip that nothing had changed. “Oh Piper, how you continue to disappoint me. Tomas /is/ better than you. But it has nothing to do with being a man. He is polite, he is poised, mannerly. He knows when something is necessary and not to whine and complain like a small bratty child. Surely it is no easy task to be marrying /you/, yet he’s taken it gracefully. He is to be admired, where as you should be ever ashamed of your constantly disappointing childish behavior,” her mother’s words hit like a slap in the face, but they shouldn’t have. It was nothing that she hadn’t said before. Piper stiffened for a few moments, and she felt tears brimming in her eyes. But she would not let herself cry. She had long since promised that she would not let herself cry in anyone. She would not be weak in front of her mother. “Can’t you be my mom for even a minute!?” Piper exclaimed, and she feared the thickness in her throat sounded by her cracking voice. Her mother’s hands slid from her shoulders and she drew back from her, turning on the heel of her pump shoe. “You will stay and do your duty. You will live her until your wedding, and then you and Tomas will hopefully with any luck have a few heirs for when you both take your thrones,” the woman said, her voice of cold indifference, each demand was intended to be follow. Though soon another lengthy sigh followed. The woman turned back around. “And Piper, I am your mother…a fact which disappoints me greatly.” ~~ It was hard not to reopen the wound that her mother had left in her neglect growing up. Her usual thickened walls of ice that blocked in her emotions, keeping them corralled were already melted and thinned. So soon the abandonment she felt came rushing in too. She thought of all the things she’d wanted from her mother, all the needs she’d had that hadn’t been fulfilled. She thought about all the things that her mother should have been. She thought about how much the fact her mother had failed to be there for her crushed her, and broken her down. And now here she was, sitting on this time, ready to abandon her own child in the way that she’d been abandoned. Her child too, was fragile and vulnerable like she had been. And she was about to let someone else exploit that weakness just to save herself a couple of problems. She was going to leave her child unprotected like she had been. Was she really better than her mother? Another sharp pain spiked within her chest as she thought about that. It was a terrible reality to even consider, that she was even a fraction like her mother. It was hard to think that this child was not even born and she was already being the one person she’d promised herself she’d never be. She had been scared that Tomas had made her weak. And she’d thought by carrying his baby that she had only been proving that. But by doing this, by letting him transform her into the woman she despised, by twisting her in such horror that she feared and rejected her own child, she was letting him win. She was letting him twist her into a creature born of fear. She was letting him change her, and weaken her. She was giving into him, into the memory of him. Slowly she glanced down at her stomach once more. She could not see any bump, but she had a clear image of what her child could be and she knew that she would not let that purity and innocence be crushed. Only seconds after she had come to this conclusion, the door opened and in came a woman in a scrubs. She carried the clipboard that Piper had filled out earlier in the waiting room. “Piper is it?” She lowered the clipboard a bit. “Are you ready for the seda-,” her voice cut off as Piper pushed herself off the table, no doubt because she seemed a little surprised about it. “No,” she said, her word direct, more certain than she’d been when she’d called this clinic. “No,” she repeated once more, rushing into her clothes in the easiest way possible without revealing herself too much. Mostly she just wanted to get out of there. The entire place was making her itch now. It made her feel dirty, and uncomfortable and wrong on every possible level. Once she was free of the loose hospital gown that felt constricting, and when she had grabbed her purse and slung it over her arm haphazardly, she was already heading for the door. “What about the pro-,” the doctor was talking, but Piper was already turning the knob and heading out, cutting her words off with the shutting of the door. No. She had made her choice.

#solos

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