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justinewt · 11 months

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Fall Into Despair - TMR REWRITE Chapter Eleven

[TMR REWRITE-MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter

Summary: They were in the final stretch. The last fight to bring down WICKED had started and the city was going up in flames. Thomas, Minho, Gally, Newt and Grace had to be quick and get out of there before they ended up in the fire but reaching Brenda and their friends was no easy task. Grace was exhausted from everything she had been put through and this one last effort might end up being too much for her to handle.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: TMR Death cure spoilers, angst, mental torture, medical experiments, needles, restraints, violence, mention of suicide attempt, stabbing, blood, depression

With soldiers everywhere in the city, it was hard to go through it undetected. They had to crouch down and hide behind anything they could. Cars were blocking the street. The five of them took cover behind plants on the sidewalks. Grace and Newt were sat against the wall while Gally and Thomas peeked out, but they were stuck there.

“What are they waiting for?” Right Minho spoke, there was a huge explosion behind Thomas, making him jump and look around. A crowd came running and screaming while there was another explosion. Gally told them to get down. The soldiers started shooting at the people. They all lied down on top of each other. Grace held her hands to her ears when someone launched a rocket in the middle of the street. This was complete chaos, and they had to take this chance and run. Thomas and Minho grabbed Newt, Gally helped Grace with one arm, holding his gun with the other and they took advantage of the general mayhem around them to leave. In all the months that they had spent in this city, this was the first time she actually saw said city, and it had gone downhill.

Everything that was happening forced them to hide in a coffee shop whose front window had been blown up. Thomas used the radio to try to make contact with Brenda. The situation was becoming critical, and they were running out of time to help Newt, who was getting worse by the eye. To watch him deteriorate in front of her eyes was very difficult for Grace, especially after she was put through. She agreed to be used and tortured to make a fucking cure and she couldn’t give it to the one person that mattered. She saved a child but saving Newt was more important in her eyes because he was her friend. He didn’t deserve to end like this when there was an actual way of helping him. She would never forgive herself if he didn’t make it out of this city, alive. Grace didn’t even dare look at Newt. She stared at the fire outside the building, only turning her head towards her brother when she heard Brenda say something about “their ride”. Apparently, she was coming to them. Thomas looked at the four others with confusion on his face. He didn’t know what she was talking about either.

They resumed their journey, trying to move quickly through the city which was falling apart around them, to quickly find Brenda and the others. They had to arrive before it was too late for Newt, before he was too far gone. Thomas and Minho were once again helping Newt while Grace tried to walk on her own, one hand gripped onto Gally's shoulder who was leading the way, holding his gun in front of him, ready to fire if needed.

“All right. Newt, we’re almost there.” He said, looking at the three behind him. Mere seconds after he spoke, an explosion sent a burning car flying across the road. They all jumped, losing their balances. Grace got so startled she loosened her grip on Gally's bulletproof vest and almost fell but he had the reflex to catch her with his free hand. He told everyone to stay back as he ducked behind the wall, giving Grace his arm for support. A crowd of people ran down the road, yelling and holding their weapons up in the air or shooting at the soldiers ahead. They glanced at each other before looking up when they heard an engine hum in the sky. A helicarrier flew overhead.

“Okay, that’s them.” Thomas declared.

“Go without me, man. You should just…” Newt tried to argue when Minho and Thomas went to pick him up, coughing up black blood. He looked even more sick than before, wheezing and panting. Grace looked away, holding her arms softly. She sighed heavily but quietly, feeling her stomach starting to ache.

“Minho. You gotta run ahead, grab the serum, and get back as soon as you can. Minho, go.” The latter was obviously reluctant to leave them here.

“He’s right. I can cover.” Gally added before standing up and going to the corner of the street. Newt grabbed Minho’s arm, streaks of blood flowing from his mouth onto his chin, his eyes bloodshot.

“Thank you, Minho.”

“Hey, just hang on. You hear me?” After a second, he finally gets up and follows Gally. Grace stayed with Thomas and Newt since she would have greatly slowed them down in their quest for the serum to cure Newt. The serum made with the experiments conducted on Grace for months. If that bloody serum was going to save anyone, it was Newt. She didn't really care to know that a little girl had been healed thanks to her. Everything she had to endure had to be used for something, otherwise she could tell she was going to lose it. The guilt that would hang over her head for failing to save him would be too much for her to handle. She knew it. Thomas leaned towards Newt as his breathing quickened. Grace jumped when he raised his voice, trying to get his attention on him.

“We’re gonna try this, okay? We gotta move, now. Let’s get you up, come on. Let’s go, come on. Grace you can walk right—” He glanced at the latter while addressing her but turned his head back to Newt when he spoke up. She watched anxiously.

“No. No, Thomas.”

“No, Newt. Later. Later. Really gotta go.” Newt grunted as he snapped a necklace from his neck and handed it to Thomas as they argued. He yelled for Thomas to take whatever this was, breathing sharply. Grace noticed a small pendant capsule and it only took her a few seconds to realize that he had put something inside for them. The idea that he knew he was doomed and had written them something broke Grace's heart and she kept saying in her head that they had to succeed in saving him so that they would never need to discover what could be in this small capsule.

“Please. Please, Tommy. Please.” He begged, short-winded. Thomas eventually took it, exchanging a look with Grace and they were both equally worried about the outcome of this whole situation.

“All right. I need you to give me everything you got. Come on, ready? Here we go.” Newt grunted loudly as Thomas lifted him off the ground. Grace leaned on the wall Gally had seated her against and managed to get up. It was more complicated with no one to hold onto, but for once her legs weren't shaking so much that she collapsed to the ground. They were shaking and the steps she took following her brother were hesitant and jerky, as if she was a toddler taking their first steps, but she kept up with them. Watching Newt struggle in front of her was terribly nerve-wracking. They walked through the street, seeing bullets fly before their eyes. Thomas sometimes looked at his sister to make sure she wasn’t too far behind. He often called out to her, telling her to keep going. Knowing that she hadn’t walked that much in months, or even at all, it really was a miracle that she managed to do so.

They got to a deserted area, going through doors with panes broken into a thousand pieces. They were almost there but not quite, and time was soon to run out for Newt. Grace heard Newt gag and fall over. She staggered and stopped in her tracks, staring at them. Thomas caught him in his fall, toppling over. He crouched around him, grabbing his arm to carry him and drag him the rest of the way and seeing his face, Grace held back a sob, resuming her walk until her brother collapsed. She called his name in a low but piercing shriek. Still feeling that her body was tired and weak, she knew she couldn’t help in any capacity so she could only watch. She had never felt so useless in her life. He held out his palm to stop her from coming closer and the moment she came to a halt, she felt her legs go numb and fell to the ground.

“Grace—”

“I’m okay, it’s… okay. I—” They both raised their heads when they heard a voice call out to them through the speakers. It resonated all throughout the city. She was probably talking to them directly from WICKED labs.

“Can you hear me? I need you to listen to me. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I need you to come back. Thomas, you can save Newt.” He stood up and glanced at Newt before turning back to where the voice came from. “There’s still time for him. There’s a reason Brenda isn’t sick anymore. It’s your blood. Yours, and Grace. She isn’t sick, because you cured her. She doesn’t have to be the only one. When we had Grace, we made a cure. An actual cure. It saved a little girl, Thomas. She had been infected for weeks, and Grace’s blood cured her. Do you understand? All you have to do is come back. And this will all finally be over.”

His back to her, he didn’t see Grace lean on her hands and push herself up on her feet. Teresa probably wanted him to come but Grace was ready to go back there if there was a guaranty Newt would be saved. Going back would mean death for her. If they took anymore of her blood, she wouldn’t wake up from the next medically induced coma they would put her in. The lights reflected off his glossy eyes. He saw Grace walk in his field of vision and turned his head, grabbing her shoulders to stop her.

“No.”

“Thomas...”

“Minho is bringing the cure. I won’t let them use you again.” His eyes moved anxiously over her face. Grace didn't say anything but when her head slowly turned to look at Newt, Thomas followed her gaze, letting go of her as they watched their friend get up on his own. There was a brief but heavy silence.

“Newt?” She called out to him, and Thomas held out his arm in front of her to make her step back. It felt like time was suspended, until he turned around, revealing his dark eyes and drooling mouth. Her brother barely had time to tell her to step back, Newt growled as he lunged at Thomas to attack him. Grace was pushed abruptly and grunted as she fell heavily on her arm, gasping in pain as she held her arm and rolled on her back. He shouted at her to stay away, asking if she was okay but all his focus was on Newt who was going berserk, throwing himself at Thomas. He fell, got back up and ran toward him. Grace watched them roll on the ground. Newt got on all four, panting and looked at Thomas, begging the latter to kill him.

“Newt, I’m here.” He took a few steps towards him, but Newt jumped on him, pushing him down, trying to bite him. Thomas struggled, crying out to him. Newt seemed to have a moment of clarity and he got calmer but only for an instant. He reached for Thomas’ thigh holster and brought the gun to his head. Thomas yelled and knocked the gun off his hand. It skidded on the ground and was stopped by Grace's leg. She pushed herself up into a sitting position but did nothing with the weapon. Newt let out a crank-like growl right Thomas’ face. Grace sobbed when he grabbed a knife from his belt and attacked him with it. Staring in fear and shock, she could only watch Newt try to stab her brother as he struggled against him, pinned down. She started crying, shouting for Newt to stop as Thomas screamed when the tip of the knife's blade digged through his skin, right above his heart. She knew her cries wouldn’t change anything and that he was driven to madness by the flare, but she felt so helpless watching them fight. Thomas kicked Newt’s back, pushing him away and punched him in the jaw. They got up. Newt swinged the knife around until he got close to Thomas, and they suddenly froze. Grace gasped, staring at them. Her heart pounding in her chest. Thomas had the same expression of utter shock on his face as he held Newt against him. Grace crawled and got on her feet. Thomas took a step back and she didn’t dare take a step closer. When she saw the knife in Newt’s chest, her stomach sank to her feet, making her feel like her guts literally dropped to the ground. A feeling of sickness washed over her, and she had a hard time standing up.

Thomas fell to his knees, calling out to him while Grace stood there, unable to take her eyes off his face. The silence that followed his calls was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She took a step forward and collapsed, bringing her trembling hand to his face, tears flowing down her eyes as she sobbed. She didn’t cry that badly when they were taken away from their mother. The realization that everything she put herself through to make this cure had been for nothing, she wailed. Grabbing onto Newt’s jacket, she let her head fall forward, her forehead resting on his shoulder which stifled her gut-wrenching cry interspersed with sobs. Her scream was so piercing that her throat was sore, but she didn't stop. Everything and everyone around her had stopped existing. She didn’t even realise her brother had walked away until she lifted her head to look at Newt and saw Minho and Siggy approach. Her scream became shaky as the weeping took over and she quietly stared at his dark eyes. They looked empty and blank. Minho and Siggy were on their knees, with Gally and Brenda in shock a few feet away.

Grace began to apologize to Newt, over and over and over again even though she was aware he couldn’t hear it, and that he wouldn’t respond to her words. She cupped his hand with hers. His body was still warm, but his hand was limp, and she just sobbed and kept saying how she was sorry and how this had all been for nothing. She had undergone all this torture for absolutely nothing and it was tearing her apart. She wished she could be gone, right there and then. She wished Janson had gotten what he wanted and emptied her of all the blood in her body so that she would be dead already. If she was dead, this pain and guilt that overwhelmed her would be gone altogether and she wouldn’t hurt anymore. She got quiet as her eyes looked at the knife in his chest. She didn’t care if it hurt for a moment. It would be just that. A moment and then she wouldn’t feel anything anymore. The reflection of her standing in front of this bathroom mirror, holding a gun to her temple flashed before her eyes. Her hand wrapped itself around the handle of the knife as she saw her index finger get on the trigger. She heard voices around her, but they were deafened. Her brother coming in the room to stop her. Her friends calling out to her. She could hear her and at the same time, she couldn’t. She wasn’t there anymore until she felt pain shot through her arm and she saw Minho’s hand holding her. She then realized that she had removed the knife from the body and although she saw Minho next to her, without looking at him directly, she still didn't let go of the knife.

“Grace. Let go off the knife. Please.” She stared at the knife; her face scrunched up as she began to cry again. It was only the second time in her life that she felt such bottomless despair, as if she was falling in a dark hole and she watched the light become smaller, with no way of coming back up and the only solution was to resign and let herself fall.

“It was all for nothing. I can’t— I can’t live with that… He died, and I couldn’t help him!” Her sobs were suddenly interrupted by her outburst of anger, and she shouted. She instantly felt regret for screaming in Minho's face, but it didn't compare to how remorseful she was for failing at helping save Newt.

“It’s not your fault, Grace.” His eyes were shining from the tears that filled them up a moment ago and his voice was tainted with sadness and grief, just like her. He obviously wanted to talk her out of doing something stupid. Maybe he thought he could, but Grace knew she wouldn’t let go off the knife unless it pierced her heart and somewhere deep down, she knew that none of the people here would let her go through with it, let alone Minho. Newt and Thomas' best friend, and a close friend of hers as well.

“It doesn’t matter.” Her voice got quiet as she stared at the knife again, already plotting something in her head. With tears in her eyes, rolling down her already wet cheeks, her voice trembled as she spoke, slowly tightening her grip over the handle. “They took my blood, for days on end… they made a fucking cure… and it still wasn’t enough to save the one person that needed it, so why does it matter?”

“You did all you could. That’s what matters.” He didn’t know what else to tell her, because she was right. Every single word she spoke was true and he couldn’t argue with her. Grace rested the knife on Newt's chest and maybe Minho thought she wasn't holding it anymore, so he let go off her arm and he went to help her get up but next thing he knew, she had drawn her hands close to her body and she froze in front of him. It felt like she had been hit with a hot iron. Minho screamed her name and caught her before she hit the ground. Siggy and Gally ran up and joined Minho around her. She was drawing sharp and quick breaths as her hands shyly letting go off the knife. Her eyes were wide as she watched the blood soak her tee-shirt, a red stain growing over her stomach. She quickly felt dizziness kick in and Gally held her head as it fell backwards while Minho applied pressure around the wound. Grace thought she would be successful in her attempt because they would have to leave at some point, or they would be stuck in a city going up in flames and it was oddly comforting. For some reason, she couldn’t think of her brother and how this would affect him. She could only think about her pain and guilt. Her body started feeling cold as her eyes closed and opened with difficulty. She was still crying but not continuously anymore. The pain from the wound, her arms and Newt’s death were all overlapping with each other, and she couldn’t make out anything. When she closed her eyes, the cold, the hurt, the exhaustion, the grief, everything went away.

It was her nightmare all over again, her falling in a dark water except that she couldn’t feel any water. Voices echoing around her, mingling in a sound that rocked her. Then suddenly, the silence became uncomfortable, and she opened her eyes. She stood in front of this mirror again. There was an infinite number of reflections spreading around her. As she turned around, she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. There was a knife in her hand, dripping with blood. She looked up and every single of her reflection held a gun to their head. They were staring right at Grace with these dark, bloodshot eyes and their drooling mouth with this black blood falling down their chin, just like Newt. All together, they growled and fired.

Grace sat up in her bed, sweating and panting as she slung her legs over the bed. She had been tormented by these nightmares since the day Newt died. And since their arrival on this island where they had created a real Safe Haven with the members of the Right Arm and their friends who survived, she had not known peace. Every day she saw Newt, both smiling in the Glade and when he was turning. His face was always there, as if it was tattooed at the back of her eyeballs. Whether she closed them or not didn't matter. She was always seeing these memories of him, overlapping in her mind. And the guilt she felt since then was eating away at her and it was worse torture than what WICKED had ever put her through. Not a day went by without her wanting to see an end to this silent torture, but Thomas kept her close. They shared a shed in the Safe Haven. He was there for her, and so were Minho, Siggy, Gally and their everyone else, though not all of them knew about how she felt inside. Moonlight faintly illuminating the room, she glanced at her brother, sleeping in his bed. She stood up and quietly opened the door, her feet sinking in the sand as soon as she stepped outside. With one hand rubbing softly the scar on her stomach, she walked all the way to the memorial stone where they carved in the names of all who were dead. She looked at them. She didn’t carve Newt’s name, Minho did. She couldn’t bring herself to it because it would force her to accept his death. Thomas had added Teresa’s name too, but she didn’t look at that one too much.

She circled the large stone and walked on the beach, quickly feeling the sand become wet under her feet. When the tide washed over her ankles, she glanced down but kept walking, the bottom of her pants getting soaked as she advanced. She was staring at the horizon, her eyes riveted straight ahead. Newt had left Thomas a letter. That was what was in the small pendant capsule he gave him that day. A message of hope, asking to take care of the others that were left, telling him how he missed the sun rising over the Glade. She did too and she kept thinking about, incapable of moving on. She hadn’t been herself since he died, and she had only one solution to how to get rid of this grief and guilt. She hated how days passed and turned into weeks and months, pushing them further away from that day. She didn’t know if she would ever move on.

All she knew was that she wished she could see just one more time the sun rising over the Glade and join Newt in the garden and tend to the crops.

[The End…]

Previous Chapter

Published (03/07/2023) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405 @kika64

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the-martyrfication-of-the-matron · 2 years

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I’m so behind on Aphtober but like, creative block is kicking my ass so I’m sorry

Wasting my days away trying to read ASOIAF at a normal person pace but I can only read for like 15 minutes at a time before my attention wants to grab onto something else.

Anyways, Nicole feels like she should’ve been left for later on, or at least until she could have been expanded upon properly and have a significant amount of plot relevance other than being a quick fix to Aphmau’s problems, like being kidnapped, and war. The idea of the lost heir to Scaleswind being pronounced dead whilst she’s perfectly well in her new little village would have been an interesting idea to play on. Have Garroth announce to aphmau that his fiancé is dead, that they’re safe now, that Zane has no need for them, and then soon after war comes to Phoenix Drop because of Zane’s lies and manipulations, him wanting to take down Phoenix Drop in a bratty hissy fit because he didn’t get what he wanted. Nicole panics, admitting to Aphmau that she is in fact the ‘dead’ heiress and she has no idea things would turn out like this. Have Aphmau resent her later for the damage she caused to her people just so she could have a taste of freedom.

#MCD likes to pick and choose the consequences of the actions of its characters.#war starts because a character is thought to be dead but there’s no moments of false hope because of those same deaths #Aphmau building the Irene statue means Alexis is cured of being a Shadow Knight but Laurence is only cured of his blindness.#witches and magicks are hated until it’s in Phoenix Drop… where everyone is just okay with it? (okay I’m one to talk but hush)#not even to mention how much werewolf lore is changed for plot relevancy/Jess’s own interest #aphmau #aphverse #rewrite #aphblr #minecraft diaries #mcd #amaranth

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agentmika · 2 years

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Not a fan of Lucas's arc so far this season :(

#why are you abandoning your friends for these douchebags...#i know logically narratively it's like if any of these kids were to become an athlete...and then since the one jock #just got hit up with vecna curE #*curse idc enough to rewrite #well now lucas will witness the fucked up death and then run to join the others in some huge finale moment etx

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fire-lightz · 6 months

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something small and simple because i am TIRRRREEED but! this fic. woah. life changing. like, my crops are watered and my plagues are cured. absolute perfection.

little kid with a big death wish by @remedyturtles !! i don't draw the rise turtles that often anymore because i struggle with their proportions, but i just had to!! speaking of fics, gonna be rewriting my own fic from a year ago soon </3 stay tuned fr

#rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt fanart #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #leonardo #leonardo hamato #leonardo fanart #death wish fanart #aughhh leo in this fic #i am him and he is me #fic rec

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daughterofthequeen · 6 months

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A New Diagnosis

Pairing: Joel Miller x autistic daughter!reader

Summary: I have an idea. Joel Miller x daughter!reader, based in the camps they had everyone in after the outbreak(so a couple days after Sarah’s death technically) and the reader is a high functioning autistic who stims. So when they get to the camp and because of all the stress she has been under, it’s causing her stimming to flare up like crazy. So Joel and Tommy had to beg and plead to the soldiers, trying to let them know she is autistic and she wasn’t infected, that she just can’t control her stims.

Warnings: Angst, crying, cussing, stimming(not really a warning but its in the story), overstimulated meltdown, denial, most likely inaccurate chain of command about construction work or construction jobs in general, might be a little ooc Joel in one scene I’m not completely sure but it feels like it and I hate it😠😤.

A/N: the reader symptoms and preferences are based on my own, which is also where this idea came from. Ever since the show came out I just wondered what did they do to the people with ticks and stims at the beginning of the outbreak. I mean they eventually had to come up with a way to tell a difference in the beginning of the outbreak before they had the infection detector things, right?

I honestly might rewrite this because I don’t know if I like how this turned out. Usually I’m pretty good at picturing what characters would say in a certain situation, but there’s one part of the fic that I’m not so sure about( you’ll know it when you read it I’m sure). But it’s crazy because I’ve been living like this since the ages of 4 or 5 and it still extremely difficult to describe stimming, even harder writing about it. But I wish I had a Joel Miller parent so I guess I’m projecting a bit in this fic. And this may also be longest fic yet.

So I decided to make this into two parts because I want this posted today because it was supposed to be out yesterday and I don’t want to wait any longer.

Mockingbird (Part 2)

Taglist: @miss-celestial-being @ilovemydinoboi @taraiel @distorted-twink @geralallfandoms @your-shifting-gurl @daemontargaryenwhore @mihstar

What started out as a regular day went to hell in the span of a couple hours. I mean homes being set on fire, families separated, innocents slaughtered due to the fear of a sickness they had no cure for. But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? Let’s start from the beginning. My name is (Y/n) Miller, and this is the story of how everything went to shit.

I was only 4.

As a kid you’re oblivious to almost everything, but sometimes a child’s behavior can reflect the type of day the family will have whether they realize it or not. And my attitude had been off all that week, until my father’s birthday aka outbreak day. I called it the calm before the storm. That week I was in an overall bad mood. All of my senses had been on high, being overstimulated plus the struggle of always being alone in school. I mean don’t get me wrong I use to talk to some of my classmates, but most likely than not I would’ve been playing by myself either from trying to avoid the bullies or because nobody wanted to play with me in general. But hey, you can’t miss what you’ve never had. I never really understood people, I still don’t but I had my family and they always made everything okay. They never made me feel different about myself. Regardless of me being only four, I understood that the repetitive behaviors were definitely not normal. Along with the what I now know as stimming; physical, vocal, scripting, ticking, etc. I could go on and on about everything that makes me different, but my family had always helped me feel normal. To be honest I didn’t start realizing I was doing all that stuff until one day my dad sat me down and asked me ‘what are you doing’ and ‘are you okay?’, which made me more self-aware. And then there was school, the weird looks and the mean jokes came into play. I’ve rarely caught my family staring, but I knew they were. Growing up and remembering the past helps you realize things you might’ve missed or didn’t understand as a kid. Like the concerned/confused stares I would catch my dad or uncle Tommy giving me before I was diagnosed. I just didn’t know what the looks were for. But the day my father finally decided something was indeed wrong, that it wasn’t just a phase, had him making an appointment to my clinic fast. It was the first time my stimming caused me serious pain. Well, from what I can remember anyway.

July 23, 2002 - Austin,Texas (Y/n is 3 years old)

The day started out like any other. I woke up in my sister’s bed, once I got my bearings I got out of the bed and headed down stairs to see my dad and my sister having one of their many daily debates

“I’m just saying your generations music has nothing on ours- (Y/N)!” After hearing Sarah saying your name, Joel turned around seeing you standing in the kitchen doorway rubbing your eye.

“Hey babygirl. Did you have a good sleep?” He asked as he turned off the stove top and went to pick you up.

“Mhm. I’m hungry, daddy.”

“That’s good because I just cooked your favorite breakfast.” He said as he kissed your cheek and sat you down in the chair across from Sarah, who got the two of you orange juice. Joel then went to grab the plates. There were eggs, sausage, french toast, and he sat a bowl of grapes next to you knowing how much you love them. You all started eating your breakfast. You went straight for the grapes and started eating them, until you spotted something that looked weird to you. Frowning, you push the bowl away and went to the food on your plate.

“Something wrong with your grapes?” Joel asked you noticing the way you frowned up.

“They dirty daddy.” Causing Joel to frown in confusion.

“Dirty? I just washed ‘em.” Joel leaned forward and grabbed the bowl and didn’t see anything abnormal about the grapes. The water in the bowl didn’t even black specs in it that grapes leave behind. “They look fine to me.”

“No. They dirty daddy, look.” Standing in your chair, you leaned over and pointed to a grape with a light brown streak on it and another where it was brown from where the stem was.

“Oh, that doesn’t mean they’re dirty, baby. Grapes just to look like that sometimes or because they’ve gotten older. That’s all.”

“Ew.” You mumbled.

“They’re gonna taste the same.” Joel said as he sat the bowl back down next to you.

“I don’t want them anymore.” You say pushing the grapes away.

“They’re fine, (n/n). I actually think the small brown areas actually make them sweater.” Sarah says trying to reassure her baby sister.

“No.” That was your final statement before you went back to eating the food on your plate.

“Ok, you don’t have to eat ‘em.” Joel states as him and Sarah go back to eating their own food.

———

“(Y/n)!!! Come back here!”

“No!”

“We go through this every time you use the bathroom!”

Sarah was currently chasing you around the house. A daily thing really, but for the last few months you have determined on not washing your hands after using the bathroom. And not with just Sarah. With Joel and Tommy too. Joel usually would have to keep a firm grip on you that disabled you from moving away from the sink, and to keep you from running or flailing your arms around as an attempt to keep him from making you wash your hands.

The first time that happened you guys were at a restaurant. He would be surprised if that whole side of the restaurant didn’t hear you,

“Daddy, I have to use the bathroom.”

“Ok.” Usually he would have Sarah take you but her and Tommy’s food had made it to the table. And since he was still waiting on his, there was no sense in stopping her from eating. He took you out of the high chair, and you two headed to the restroom. After the long process of putting toilet paper on the seat, he sat you on the seat and let you do your business. Once you were finished cleaning yourself up and him flushing the toilet, he waited for you to go towards the sink. But you headed towards the door instead.

“Don’t forget to wash your hands.” Joel said from his spot on the wall he was leaning on with his arms crossed.

Turning towards the sink, you clasped your hands to your chest, letting out a low groan of disgust.

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to touch it.”

“What the sink?” You nodded.

“You have to wash your hands, babygirl. Come on.”

“No.” You whined, and Joel knew then the two of you were going to have a problem.

“Babygirl, please.” He said in a pleading tone and tired tone.

“No!” Joel sighed then picked you up and held you over the sink as he usually would when washing your hands, but this time due to your decision of fighting and squirming in his arms, he had to get a gentle but firm grip on your hands to wash them himself.

“(Y/n).” That caused you to stop in your tracks. The sound was unfamiliar until your mind put together it was your father’s voice. He never says your actual name unless you were in trouble, and even then it would depend. But him calling your name was enough time for Sarah to scoop you up and head to the nearest sink which was the kitchen.

Sarah sat you down after she finished washing your hands. After getting free you pouted and went into the living room to continue playing with your toys before your bladder interrupted you. So invested in what you were doing, you didn’t even hear your Uncle Tommy come in the house.

“What’s for dinner today?” He teased, rubbing the top of yours and Sarah’s head as he passed by each of you.

“I don’t know you’ll have to ask this guy. He was supposed to go to the store but surprise, he didn’t.” Sarah says with a sarcastic smile towards her father who was going through bills. Joel head turned towards Sarah giving a bored look.

“We’re ordering pizza.”

“Fine with me.” Tommy states triggering Joel to role his eyes.

“Of course it is.”

Sarah went upstairs for the book the two of you were reading. To ‘keep her ahead of her future classmates’. While Sarah was upstairs, Tommy eyes trailed over to you, he smiled as he watched you in your own little world playing with your toys while talking to yourself. He watched you for a minute until he saw you stretching your neck. Normally he would’ve thought nothing of it until he realized it was happening constantly. At first they were only seconds apart, then you would stop for a few minutes and start again. There wasn’t an exact pattern, but he caught the rhythm of it.

“Buns neck been bothering her?”

“No.” Joel answered absentmindedly, still invested in the papers he wished he could use as a coaster without consequence.

“You sure?”

“Yeah I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be sure?” Joel asked, getting annoyed by the fact he kept getting interrupted with his task.

“ ‘Cause she keeps stretchin’ it like it’s bothering her.”

Joel looks up at Tommy who had a slight worried look on his face. Joel then turns around in his chair to see what his brother was talking about. And true to his little brother’s words there you were stretching your neck and shoulder in a way that looks painful if he’s being honest. Joel turned back around to his brother with an equally concerned look. He leans closer towards him and lowers his voice before he started talking signaling Tommy to do the same.

“I don’t know why she does that, and every time I ask her if she’s ok she tells me she’s fine.”

“Maybe she has a crook in her neck.”

“No, if it was a crook we would know. She would be a lot worse. She tends to panic when she has one of those, and doesn’t do a lot of moving around. To stop the ‘bouncy feeling’. This. This is something else. And it’s been getting more frequent lately.”

“Frequent?”

“Yeah, this started a few months ago. It’ll leave and come back after a few weeks, but like I said it’s been happening a lot more often lately. She does it with her hands and wrist too.”

“Hm.”

Joel turned back towards his youngest. “Babygirl, you okay?” He said in a tone reserved for only you and Sarah when she’s upset about something.

You look up from your toys, bright innocent eyes finding your father’s concerned ones.

“Yeah.”

“You sure? Your neck not bothering you?”

“No.” You replied while standing up from your place on the floor and walked over to your father. When you got close enough he automatically picked you up and sat you on his thigh.

“Then why do you keep rollin’ it around honey?”

“I’m not.” Joel frowned in confusion. He’s clearly watching you do it so, either you’re lying for some unknown reason or you just don’t know that you’re doing it. But he’s always able to tell just by asking one question.

“Are you telling me the truth?” Simple, but it works. It was a question he would ask you every time he would think you were lying. And every time you answer you have a tell. When you tell the truth you tend to answer pretty confidently, but when you lie, you always fiddle with something whether it be your clothes, your fingers, or just bouncing your foot.

“Yes.” There’s no fidgeting. Covering up how even more confused he was in the moment he just nodded in understanding even though he didn’t.

“Ok baby, you want to go back to playin’ with your toys?”

“Yeah.” You replied getting down from your father’s lap before he even had the chance to put you down. Then you ran off to start back playing until Sarah came back down the stairs.

“(N/n), story time.” Hearing that you stood up and headed over to the couch with your sister. Before you sat down you picked up your stuffed bunny, Tommy got it for you when you were two. They used to use it to stop you from crying, but now you take it wherever you go. You laid down across the couch with Sarah and had your bunny in front of you in the same position you were to Sarah. She opened the book to where you two left off and started reading stopping at every few paragraphs to let you read.

Joel watched the two of you, his world. He would never understand how a mother would want to give this up.

“Have you thought about getting her checked out?” Tommy’s voice broke Joel from his thoughts.

“Checked for what?” Joel asked frowning at his brother.

“Joel, are you serious? Something could be wrong.”

“She’s fine, Tommy. She’ll grow out of it.”

“Grow out of it? Don’t you want to make sure?”

“Tommy, please.” Now Joel was lying. To himself especially. But that is understandable, what parent wants to accept that something may be wrong with their child. It was a scary thing to think about.

“What if it’s somethin’ wrong? Wouldn’t you want to get Bun’ the help she needs as soon as possible.”

“She doesn’t need help Tommy. I’m telling you she’ll grow out of it.”

“Joel-”

“Just let it go.” Joel whispered in a hardened tone, trying to keep his voice down so the girls wouldn’t hear that anything was wrong. “Look, would you order the pizza for tonight. I’m trying to finish up these bills.” Tommy mumbled a ‘sure’ and got up to make the call. He understood why Joel didn’t want to talk about that kind of stuff, what parent does? But knowing his stubborn nature he won’t act on it unless something happens that causes him to. After hearing the voice of the pizza lady on the line, Tommy uses it as a distraction to get his mind off his niece and his stubborn mule of a brother.

January 16, 2003 - 6:30am

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Sarah sat up with a soft groan and stretches, when she heard whining. She turned toward her sister who was hiding under the covers.

“Time to get up (n/n).” Sarah was about to stand up until she heard you cry out. She pulled back the covers to see you in a fertile position, hands covering your ears, eyes squeezed shut. “Come on (n/n), we- what’s wrong?” Sarah asked starting to panic seeing a tear fall from your eye.

“Too loud!” Sarah was confused for a second before she remembered the alarm was still going off. She quickly reached over to turn it off, and brought you into her arms. She laid you on her chest, rocking you back and forth while rubbing the top of your head, and she softly shushed you until you calmed down. When Sarah heard your cries turn into sniffles and looked down at you.

“You okay?” She asked softly rubbing the top of your head. She was confused as to why you reacted this way but, whatever the reason, it had her extremely worried. After seeing you nod your head she was able to relax, but she knew she still needed to tell dad about what just happened. Sarah got you up so, the both of you could start your morning routine. Everything went semi-smoothly, but that’s to be expected after your reaction to the alarm clock she’s not all that shocked about your agitated behavior. Sarah had just finished fixing your shirt when there was a knock on the bedroom door.

“Come in.”

“Hey, you girls almost ready?”

“Yep, we were just about to head down for breakfast.” Sarah stood from her kneeling position in front of you, letting you know that she was finished. And after going to tuck your bunny in bed you walked over to Joel.

“Unfortunately, you two are going to have to eat breakfast at school.” He said as he picked you up.

“Ew, why?” Sarah asked.

“Well your Uncle Tommy called and said there’s been an emergency at the house we’re working on so, when he pulls up we gotta go.” He grabbed your book bag and started down the stairs since you had decided to fall back asleep, not that he blamed you if he could he would have too. A minute later Tommy pulls up and surprisingly the Adlers weren’t outside, then again they were leaving a little earlier than usual. But, either way they didn’t have time to stop and talk. Sarah was dropped off first, then you. And it wasn’t until Sarah sat down in her first period class when she realized she forgot to tell her dad what happened this morning.

———

Time Skip

Normally, when school gets out you would ride home with Denise, due to her daughter going to the same school and Sarah’s school getting out 10 minutes after your school does. Then add another 20-30 minutes of her having to take the school bus then the city bus to get home. When Sarah makes it to the neighborhood she has to pass by Denise house to get to yours which is when she picks you up, but today didn’t work out that way. It started when Joel got a phone call from your school.

Joel and Tommy were currently managing the workers that were doing the framework of the building they were working on. Well Tommy was, Joel was trying to keep calm while talking to the construction manger.

“Look all I’m saying is we should be getting paid more since we’re working more hours than what we were told we would be working, don’t you think.” The construction manger has been going back and forth with Joel for about 10 minutes now, way too long for Joel’s liking.

“No, I don’t. Especially since the reason we’re in this situation is because you guys didn’t do your jobs right in the first place. You’re lucky you’re still gettin’ paid the amount that was agreed upon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if you and your guys spent as much time working as you do talking and taking breaks you probably would’ve done your jobs right the first time, and we wouldn’t be in this situation, or behind a day.” The manger didn’t take too kindly to that statement, and Joel was so close to losing his nerve until he was saved by the bell, literally. Right before he was about to tell the construction manager that he can stick it where the sun don’t shine, his phone started ringing.

Joel sighed while taking his phone out of the carrying case to see it was the preschool calling much to his confusion. He didn’t even notice the construction manager was still talking.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Take it up with Tommy.” He said while waving him off and answering his phone. “Hello.”

“Mr. Miller.”

“Yeah.”

“This is Elizabeth, (Y/n)’s teacher. We need you to come to the school.” Joel immediately sighs, dragging his hand over his face.

“What’d she do?” He replies in an exhausted tone. He never gets calls from your schools unless it’s to let him know he needed to bring a change of clothes for you. All the preschoolers have to have an extra pair of clothes that’s to be kept in the classroom just in case the kids have an accident or something. But you’ve been acting out a lot lately, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it was for something like that.

“It may be better for you to come up to the school so we can explain it to you face-to-face.” Joel didn’t like the way this was sounding. It was hard for him to pinpoint the emotion that was coming off her voice, which worried him more.

“Okay, I’m on my way.” He sighed while hanging up the phone. He walked over to Tommy who looks like he actually did tell the construction manager to shove it, going off the look on the of their faces. “Tommy, I need you to watch over everything here for a while.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“That was (Y/n)’s school, they need me to go up there.”

“Is everything okay with bun’?”

“I don’t know her teacher wouldn’t tell me anything. I’m sure she’s fine, she probably just got into it with a kid in her class again.”

“Okay, call me when you find out what’s goin’ on.”

“I will. Alright I’m off, and make sure they actually do their job correctly this time.”

“I got it, go on.”

After that Joel made his way to the truck. Even though he says he’s sure she’s fine, he couldn’t help but worry about you. The tone of your teacher didn’t sound good at all. She sounded worried. And sad? Were you sick? He could deal with a common cold, but your teachers tone indicated something worse than that. And there has been a deadly virus going around the world, it hasn’t made it to America yet at least that’s what they’re telling everyone. But what if it has made it over seas? There’s no cure for it, and what if you had it? That couldn’t happen, to you or Sarah. He wouldn’t know what he would do if he lost one of you. No. Stop. That’s not going to happen. That would never happen. He hates when his mind gets like this, but as a single father the need to protect the two of you is the most important thing to him, and that makes him worry even more because that’s something he can’t ever fail at, and he doesn’t even want to think what’ll happen if he does.

He gets out of the truck and speed walks towards your classroom. He had gotten into his own head, but there’s something inside of him that’s telling him this is as serious as it feels.

“Mr. Miller.” He turns upon hearing his name being called, seeing your teacher standing in the doorway of the office.

“Where is she?” He asks as he makes his way to her. Once he got close enough he realized the tone in her voice wasn’t sadness, but pity? Why would she pity him, and where were you?

“She’s in the principals office. But! But before you go in we should probably explain what happened and why.” She said stopping him from brushing past her.

“What did she get into a fight with another kid or somethin’?” Joel ask impatiently.

“No-”

“Okay, then it can wait.” He moves to fast for her to stop and walks into the principals office to see you sitting in a chair with dried tear stain down your cheeks. He quickly kneeled in front of you gently grasping your hands in his.

“What’s wrong, babygirl. What happened?”

“I wanna go home.” You mumbled

“Ok, you want to tell me why?”

“Mr. Miller, we really need to talk to you.” The principal finally spoke up motioning to the officer hallway. He huffed as he stood up and followed the principal out, but not before he kissed your forehead and told you that he would be back.

“Okay, what’s so important that you had to drag me away from my daughter, who’s been crying? And why is she crying? I swear if that Richardson kid put her hands on her again-” He was annoyed with everyone at this point everyone besides you obviously, he just doesn’t understand why they couldn’t tell him while he comforted his daughter.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Miller. We just didn’t want to make her think that she was in trouble, we just got her to calm down.”

“So, she’s fine?”

“Physically, yes.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“Ms. Elizabeth?” The principal could he was getting upset so she found it best to let your teacher explain what happened.

“Mr. Miller.”

“Would y’all stop calling my damn name and actually tell what the hell’s going on with my daughter?

“Well (Y/n) has been in an agitated mood all day, but that’s not the problem. Uhm, the kids just got back from lunch about 30 to 40 minutes ago, and after they eat I usually let them have play time before I start their last lesson for the day before nap time. Today during play time (Y/n) had a little outburst.” Elizabeth knew she was beating around the bush, but that’s because she has heard this conversation happen many times with other teachers and parents and most often than not the parents don’t respond to well.

“Little outburst?”

“Well not really an outburst, but more of a meltdown. This is the special needs teacher, Ms. Thomson, and a friend of mine so I know what signs to look out for in a child. And (Y/n) has been showing these signs since the beginning of the year. They can be overlooked especially in girls and be seen as ‘normal’ and in a way it is. For her anyway.”

“What are you talking about? Signs for what?” Joel asked in frustrated tone.

Ms. Elizabeth look over at the special needs teacher to nervous to continue, and to make sure that she’s positive of (Y/n)’s condition. To which her friend responded with a nod.

“We think (Y/n) has autism. And before you say anything, the signs are all there. I’ve been watching her since her first day of becoming my student. And we highly recommend that she be tested.”

“What? She’s not autistic. I think I would know if my daughter had autism. Look at her, does she look autistic to you?”

“Autism doesn’t always have a look Mr. Miller, and just because she doesn’t have a physical disablement doesn’t mean she’ll be any less autistic than someone with one. That’s why we recommend getting her tested to find out how far she is on the spectrum.”

“You sound so sure that, that’s what it is. How did y’all come up with autism from her having a ‘meltdown’? And what do you mean by meltdown?”

“Well after I sent the kids to go off and begin playing I noticed (Y/n) hadn’t moved from the table, she just sat there, covering her ears with tears in her eyes. She had been in that position since they came back from lunch. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me the other kids were being too loud. But before I could offer a solution the students behind us started screaming louder than what they were, which triggered somewhat of chain reaction with the rest of the class, so I turned around make sure everything was ok but when I that’s when (Y/n) ran to the bathroom and locked herself in. I had to send the other kids to sit in a classroom with another teacher. (Y/n) was crying. Sobbing. When I unlocked the door she was sitting in the corner squeezing the sides of her head so hard it looked painful. All to try and block out the world because it was too much for her. It broke my heart to see her like that because (Y/n) is sweetest little girl I’ve ever met, and to see her in pain like, any child, it’s a hard thing to see. I had to wrestle with her a little to keep her from hurting herself, but I was able to get her calm enough to sit her in my lap and have her hold onto me while I called Ms. Thomson, who was able to calm her further until she reassociated with everything around her.

“Pain?” That’s when the special needs teacher finally decided to step in and say something.

“It’s called a sensory overload, Mr. Miller. It’s very common in the Autism Spectrum. It’s when someone on the spectrum becomes to overwhelmed with the world around them, and if they can’t find some kind of outlet from everything more than likely it’s going to cause a break down in one way or another.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s autistic-“

“Mr. Miller. Does (Y/n) walk on her tippy toes?

“Yeah, but all babies do that.”

“How does she act when she is in a large crowd or around someone she doesn’t know.” Ms. Thomson was completely calm while asking these questions. Knowing that getting agitated or saying something wrong could keep you from getting the help you need.

“The same as any other kid.”

“Does she get in mood where she doesn’t want to talk or just can’t talk in general?”

“Ok look, you’re only naming things all kids do.”

“Yes, but like every thing else on the spectrum there’s a line where it occurs more than it should. Let me ask you one more question Mr. Miller.

He doesn’t even reply he only took a breath to let her know he didn’t want to talk about the topic anymore. Still in denial, even after everything they just told him.

“Does she tend to twitch, or repeat her movements? Have you ever seen her stiffen or strain her body?” Joel didn’t even reply.

“Your silence speaks volumes Mr. Miller. Please, get her tested. It will help her make it in a society that wasn’t made for her. Giving her benefits she can use to even the playing field with neurotypicals. Don’t you think she deserves that?” Joel really didn’t want to accept this. Knowing that if you are autistic, you’ll face more difficulties in life. All because you were different. Difficulties you’re already facing, he just didn’t want to admit it.

“What do I need do to get her tested?” Joel asked after his little debate. All he can hope that the test comes out as negative, but that’s a long shot, given the special needs teacher already seems so sure, the test was just to confirm it.

Ms. Thomson who was smiling after hearing his agreement answered him. “Nothing, I already have an appointment set up for her with a neurodevelopmental pediatrician, who is also a good friend of mine. So, as soon as she finishes with the evaluation you will get the results. I just needed your approval.”

“Okay. Uh, thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Is it ok if I take her home?” Joel ask looking towards your teacher.

“Yes, I think that’s the best thing for her right now. Being in her safe space with all her things will help her get some much needed rest. I will write down the appointment information and what you’ll need for the evaluation and put it in her backpack for you.”

“Thank you.” After that Joel walked back into the office to see you playing with one of the pens on the principals desk in one hand and your head laying on top of the other. “Hey babygirl. You want to go home?” He asked as he kneeled in front of the chair, while making sure to keep his voice at a low level. Once you nodded he stood up, gently grabbed your hand, and the two of you went to get your bag and appointment information.

January 20, 2003 - 1:00 p.m.

Joel and Tommy were on their lunch break at a burger place when Joel’s phone started ringing. He cleaned his hands and took his phone out it’s carrying case before answering. “Hello?”

“Is this Joel Miller?” A woman’s voice.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, good. This is Tonia, the neurodevelopmental pediatrician that did (Y/n)’s evaluation.”

“Right, so what were the results?”

“Well, the documents are ready for you to come and get them, and I will break everything down once you get here, if you want.”

“Uhhhh yeah, I’ll be there in about 20-25 minutes.”

“Ok, see you then. Bye bye.”

“Bye. Get up Tommy, we gotta go.”

“I’m still eatin’”

“Tommy, bring it with you. Jesus.” Joel mumbled as he rolled his eyes at his younger brother.

They made it to the building, and Joel was doing his best to remember the way to the correct office while also trying to calm his anxious mind. When they made it to the office, Joel knocked on the door frame of the open door before walking in Tonia’s office.

“Here you go.” She said as she handed the papers to Joel who noticed it was about 15 pages.

“Wha-what am I looking at?” He asked looking up at the pediatric who let out a low chuckle, she gets the same reaction from almost all of the parents she encounters.

“Well first things first, I’ve concluded (Y/n) does have ASD. She is what we call a high-functioning autistic, and I came up with that diagnosis based on her teacher’s observations, your own, and from the activities I had her to do. The evaluation explains everything of what that means in detail like her sensitivity to sounds, her not liking to touch certain things, lack of social skills, etcétera.”

“So, what does this mean for her?”

“Well, she can stay in Ms. Elizabeth’s class, there’s no need to move her to the special needs class permanently. But she does have special education, and all that means is that Ms. Thomson will take her in her classroom to help her find ways to calm herself when she feels herself getting overstimulated. Or if she can’t and Ms. Elizabeth sees she is getting overwhelmed or she tells Ms. Elizabeth she’s getting overwhelmed they’ll send her to Ms. Thomson class or a quiet place for her to calm down. And maybe she’ll even have better luck with making friends in the special needs classroom than she does in her regular class. And education wise it means when she gets test she can go to a different classroom to take it and she’ll be able receive more time on any tests she has to take as well.” She looked up from her notes, making sure she got all the main checkpoints, but when she did Joel’s face told her everything she needed to know.

“Mr. Miller, the worst thing you can do for her is to feel bad for her. There’s no reason too.”

“No reason to? The whole point of this was to make sure she gets the help she needs to keep up with everyone else.”

“No, the reason for this was to make sure she had the help if and when she needs it. Academically (Y/n) is one of the smartest kids in her class, actually in her grade. It might take more effort, but she’s keeping up with her classmates. Some of the worst things you can do is pity her, hold her back due to being overprotective, or use it as an excuse to make her seem more fragile. I’m not saying she’s not going to have challenges because she is, but all you have to do is stay beside and make sure she keeps working at it till she gets it. And stay way from describing her condition as ‘slow’ or ‘retarded’. And you can’t punish her because of her stimming or overstimulated behavior. Not saying that you would! I mean- you just wouldn’t believe how many parents would get agitated and angry about things their child can’t control, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’re attentive to her, and that’s something she’s going to need from you growing up.” Joel nodded in understanding still skimming through the evaluation packet.

“Thank you for doing this in such short notice.”

“No problem. She’s one of the sweetest kids I’ve met. And cutest.” That caused a smile to appear on Joel’s face. He hasn’t been able to smile much since Thursday, always thinking about you and the whole situation. Which has been weighing on his mind literally 24/7.

“Thank you for this, you have a nice day.” He said before turning around to leave out the office.

“You as well.” She replied also smiling at Tommy, who smiled and winked back, reaching his goal of getting her to laugh.

Joel barely made through the door before Sarah hit him with a “what’d she say?”

“Uhhh- where’s (Y/n)? And how’d you know she called?”

“She called the house phone first. And (Y/n) is upstairs, I just got her out the tub, which she didn’t like, at all.”

“She didn’t want to get out?”

“No, she didn’t want to get in. But she should be finished putting on her pajamas by now.”

“Ok, go get her and I’ll tell y’all the results.”

“Ok.” Sarah ran upstairs to get you, when you both got down stairs and sat on the couch, Sarah sat on the right side of Joel, and he picked you up and sat you on his lap tucking you into his side.

“How was school today, honey.” Joel turning his head towards you.

“Good. Ms. Elizabeth gave me headphones to put on my ears when everything got too loud again.”

“Did she? That was real nice of her.”

“Yeah. How was your day, daddy?”

“It was really good, babygirl. Thank you for asking.” The smile you gave him made his whole day. He thought back to what the pediatrician said about not pitying you because that’s not something you need from him. Looking at you now he realized she was right. He’s going to do his best to give you what you need. Whatever it may be, and he knows you’re going to grow into a smart and beautiful woman. He reached down and kissed your temple getting laugh out of you, a sound he would never get tired of.

Joel turned his towards Sarah, about to ask her how her day went stopped him before he started.

“My day was fine, the same. What did she say?” Joel paused for a second before he chuckled at her before pointing to the where he sat the evaluation.

“That’s the paper, she gave me that explains everything.” He blinked and Sarah had the papers in her hand, while she started reading he turned back to you to explain everything to you somehow.

“Ok babygirl. Do you remember test you had to take with the lady a few days ago?” After you nodded he continued. “You remember she told you it’s going let us know if you think differently than everybody else?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it turns out you do.”

“Is that bad?”

“No! No, no, no. It’s not bad at all, and don’t let anyone tell you that it is. Ok?”

“Ok.”’

“All it means is some things may be a little harder or more overwhelming to you than other people, but it also means better at other things too.”

“Like what?”

“Like being artistic, and solving puzzles. But it also means you can be smarter than others in your class. You may have to learn some things in a different way, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be smarter. You already are. Ms. Elizabeth told me you were one of the smartest people in your grade.”

“She did!?”

“She did.”

“Wow.” You whispered in awe.

“Yeah, that’s a big deal, and daddy is so proud of you. You remember that, ok? No matter how big you get.”

“I promise, daddy.”

“Good. I love you babygirl.” He said, pressing another kiss to your temple.

“I love you too, daddy.” You said placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Awwwww, that’s so sweet. What are we eating for dinner? I’m hungry.” Sarah interrupted and Joel huffed out a laughed placing a quick kiss on her temple as well.

“I’m proud of you too baby.”

“I know, dad.” She said softly smiling.

“How about we go out for dinner? I really don’t feel like cookin’.”

“Fine with me. Come on (Y/n), let’s go put some clothes on.”

“Okay!” You said as you jumped up from Joel’s lap and ran off to catch up to your big sister.

A/n: Long story short the story was too long🤭🙇‍♀️😭 so I decided to split it into two parts. I hope you guys enjoy, sorry I took so long. But I love you guys for being patient, I really appreciate it.

#joel miller x autistic!reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x daughter!reader #joel miller x reader #hbo tlou #tlou fanfiction #A New Diagnosis #joel miller x autistic!daughter!reader #joel miller x autistic daughter!reader

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alpaca-clouds · 4 months

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How to actually heal Astarion's vampirism

Okay, I have been asked this often enough to answer it like this for once.

I keep saying that actually in the Spawn Astarion ending it is not going to take an eternity to cure Astarion of his vampirism, which is after all something he wants. And the reason is fairly simple: This is still the DnD world - and the changes to vampire lore that BG3 made, are removing the usual hurdles.

Basically, there are two main options to heal a vampire of vampirism in DnD Lore.

Number 1: Wish

Number 2: True Resurrection

Wish is harder to optain (with Djini, High Level Wizards and Gods being able to cast it) but even within DnD Lore it basically is like: "Wish rewrites reality." So, if you wish for a vampire to not be a vampire anymore, Wish can do that. Sure, rule-wise there are some limitations, but those mostly maintain to balancing, not to lore questions like this.

With True Resurrection it is a bit more complicated within the DnD Lore, because for True Resurrection you gonna need the soul in question and usually undead creatured lose their souls - and the longer they are undead the harder it is to return the soul.

But BG3 lore explicitly says, that vampires actually do have their soul. At least the spawn do, because Cazador is going to sacrifice their souls - which he could not do, if they did not have them any longer. So, given that Astarion has a soul, you can just cast true resurrection and fix it.

Yes, True Resurrection is a high level spell as well, but... It is common enough that it is not gonna be that hard to obtain, really. Not if you are actively looking for a way to get access to it.

Like, depending on the edition there are also other ways to cure the undead, but these two are the main ways to go about it.

In my stuff... Well, my stuff involves doing a quest for Tymora and obtaining a very rare item from 2e through it that can be used to repeatedly cast True Resurrection. Mostly because I was looking for a way to offer the other spawn a way to get healed as well.

But yeah... Given that death in general is something that you absolutely can recover from in this world... It is not that complicated.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #vampires #vampire spawn #bg3 #dnd #dungeons & dragons #astarion #astarion ancunin #cazador szarr

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journals-of-the-guardian-project · 10 months

Text

LORE POST #1

Redesign of my Chat Noir redesign to go together with my rewrite which I will talk a lot about under the cut. I'm pretty set on this design too and will link it at the beginning of the fic when I get ten chapters completed and ready to post :3

What is different from canon, why I am changing some things, etc. Feel free to just read my thoughts around the design if you want to read my fic without any guidelines of what I'm planning so far for him

BUT I won't spoil anything major dw

The design:

I've changed chat noir's design so it would blend in more at night. The preferred the sleek black tones over the glow in the dark green I gave him before. I take a whole lot of inspiration from the PV of miraculous ladybug in these designs so of course his hair is still floofy.

When initially designing Chat noir, the tips of his hair are darker since I really liked that trait some other redesigns gave him so I included it without making his whole head of hair black.

I got the idea to base his design off of rust and RAN with it! He still has some greens in his design but they've shifted closer to yellow green and gold for the color scheme!

I've liked the idea about the clothes in the hero designs looking more cloth like too so I've incorporated that into the design with pockets and a zipper cause I can. Since Adrien has been thinking about being a superhero for a while, his design is more thought out were it could be.

EDIT: Forgot to mention!! Ladybelle has a lil more black in her design and now chat has a little more red! :3 matching

I saw some concept art of Chat Noir with a hat at one point and I loved it so much I wanted to keep it in to a certain extent, SO Marichat moment all the way. I decided to add the bells back into his design (I missed them) and took inspiration from @/callimara's Chat Noir design.

Chat noir will still be very cat like in this and I thought it'd be funky if his feat were like a cat's

Overall it isn't much of a design change for some aspects but I really like how it turned out!

K story stuff now:

I want to get ten chapters done before I post chapters again on the first fic since I don't think I did the best job introducing what I've changed. This isn't talking about adrien agreste's life this is more his role as Chat Noir. I'll get to adrien when I get his redesign sheet finished

(any part of this section might be edited in the future but this is basically part of my ideas)

Honestly a whole lot of the fic(s) is(are)

Fault of canon? -> Solution

I've been developing for two years now and I just gotta write it out... Entirely hinging on my execution sigh

Chat noir's powers are now on a more equal footing with Ladybug's (Ladybelle now) and I'll get more indepth when I post Ladybug's redesign and stuff but basically

The miracle box is a mix mash of several miraculous's from other boxes due to an event Guardian Marianne caused. Supposedly, she unleashed the Rabbit kwami of time on the guardians in an act of defiance. Resulting in rips in time eating away the members present for such an event, burning to death in fire. Marianne managed to run away with the miraculous's she could obtain and do her best to live her life knowing what she's done.

The Ladybug and Cat miraculous are a duo pair. Strongest when used in a partnership. Many are tempted to use both at the same time for what the powers merge to become but this isn't the strongest path.

Tikki and Plagg are soulmates you could say. They aren't really romantic but they are bonded for life. Never one without the other.

They are the only miraculous pairing in the new mixmash of the guardian box. Eventually Marianne gives the responsibility to Master Fu, her lover, before the rabbit comes after her as well.

I'll talk more about the changes I've made to Tikki's character in Ladybelle's post but as a part of the Miraculous cure, something all pairing miraculous's have to purify evils and darkness, it requires both parties to be present. Usually some form of touch or communication initiates the Miraculous cure

"Pound it!"

Chat noir can use his power alone to defeat evils but it's like cauterizing a wound. He doesn't figure this out for a bit.

I'll talk more about the miraculous cure in Ladybelle's post

This is still a part of the story I'm working on but:

the miraculous of destruction gets more powerful the longer the user wields it. With techniques and familiarity, Chat noir will be able to make black pockets of nothing just from a touch. Yes I'm including this from the concept art. Though he'll only get this later down the road

Chat noir is still a form of escapism to Adrien and part of his character arc is realizing he can't rely on it like that. A large part of adrien's character I'll talk about in adrien's post ties into Chat Noir too

I'm still figuring out some plot points for him so this is where I'll end this off. But I will say I'm planning on Chat Noir getting more time with the kwamis and more of a role in the Guardian arc and guardian stuff in general

#guardian marianne au #jotg au #journals of the guardian #chat noir redesign #miraculous ladybug rewrite #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #marichat #ladynoir #MDN art tag #my art #adrien agreste

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destieltropecollection · 1 year

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DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 10 | Canon Divergent

Sleepy Angel Kisses | Destielshipper4Cas (AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,255 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, Affectionate Dean, Falling angel Castiel, Crack Treated Seriously, Prankster Dean, Fluff and Crack Summary: Cas keeps falling asleep when low on grace. Dean takes advantage of that. Just some harmless pranks… right?

An Account of Consequences | @moustiel

Rating: General Word Count: 1,530 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, post season 12 finale, spn rewrite, canon divergence, whump, heavy corpse description Summary: Castiel is the once and former God. There are consequences for trying to be The Most High. Isaiah 14:16-14:20

No Peace Held In Death | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,265 Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s07e04 Defending Your Life, Angst, Sad Dean Winchester, Sad Castiel (Supernatural), canon compliant? more like canon complaint Summary: Sammy’s out doing his Sam-thing, trying to take down Osiris with Bobby on the other end of the phone. Dean’s hanging out in their motel room, waiting. He fucking hopes it’s Jo. Which means it’s gonna be Cas.

a corruption cleared | @demonmary

Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,774 Main Tags/Warnings: Demon Cure, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon True Forms, Angelic Grace, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst Summary: When Castiel had healed him in the past, it was from the outside in. HIs hands would come to rest on Dean’s injured flesh, his grace would pulse through them like electricity, and the connection would stop when Cas pulled away. But this - this was more pure. This wasn’t Castiel’s touch, this was Castiel. This was Castiel, healing him from the inside out. _____ demon cure but make it horny grace drinking.

thank god for bruce campbell's abs | @watchinghimrakeleaves

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,408 Main Tags/Warnings: canon divergent, season 9, human castiel in the bunker, Summary: Dean decides to expose Cas to horror movies. In the process, he learns some startling things about his best friend.

I need to say something | @destiel-wings

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,861 Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s15e09 The Trap, Castiel/Dean Winchester in Purgatory, Love confessions, Angst, Romance, POV Castiel, Dean Winchester uses actual words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Summary: What if Dean had confessed in Purgatory, after his prayer? When Dean said "Cas, I need to say something," Castiel stopped him. But what if he hadn't?

Murder the World | @thisisapaige

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,162 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, Canon Divergent after s10e22 The Prisoner, Demon Dean Winchester, the Castiel and Colette parallel, Switch Castiel/Switch Dean Winchester, Hopeful Ending, Porn With Plot Summary: Castiel said he would be the one to watch Dean murder the world. Now he has a chance to prove it.

This Isn't Where We Intended To Be | @porcupine-girl

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 14,094 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel in the Bunker, Human Castiel, Fallen Castiel, Post-Episode: s10e14 The Executioner's Song, Pining Castiel, First Kiss, First Time, Bunker Fic, Light Masochism, Meddling Sam, Emotionally Repressed Dean, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Light Bondage Summary: This time, he wakes up to the aftermath: Metatron and Crowley both dead. Dean lying nearby, unconscious and a bit bloody but free of the Mark. Sam mother hen-ing back and forth between them, trying to make sure they're both alive, assessing them for injuries, shifting them into the recovery position. He is hungry, cold, and weak. But he is not alone, and that makes all the difference in the world. Fallen, Castiel struggles to figure out where he fits in the human world—and in Dean's life.

The Parts You Keep Hidden | @skybird87

Rating: Mature Word Count: 16,035 Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s14e10 Nihilism, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Bad Parent John Winchester, Dean Winchester is Loved, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: In an attempt to free Dean from Michael, Cas and Sam journey deep into Dean's mind. Unfortunately, they find themselves stuck in an endless void of darkness, with only Dean's worst memories to guide their way.

Everything I Possess | @krexhatespushups-blog

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 19,023 Main Tags/Warnings: Archive Warning: Major Character Death Tags: Canon-Divergent AU, Pre-season one Canon divergent, Mentions of drug use and addiction, consequences of drug use, child neglect/child abuse, emotional manipulation, child abandonment, Mentions of PTSD, John Winchesters A+ Parenting, drug use by a minor, Dean/Cas established relationship, Blow jobs, car sex, public sex, references to physical abuse, praise kink, Temporary Death, VERY TEMPORARY MCD, grieving, dealing with grief, hunters funeral, non-con branding, non-con body modification, misuse of angelic grace as lube Summary: Dean had been fighting all kinds of supernatural beings from the time he could hold a gun, but he never expected angels to be real, So when he met Rhonda Hurley at nineteen in a tiny town in Colorado, the last thing he expected was that her sister had been miraculously saved by an angel. Nineteen years later, Dean and Cas are searching for God and their paths cross with a familiar angel who knows about Rhonda and reveals a secret - a pink satin-y panty shaped secret - that Dean has been hiding.

Mr&Mr Smith (WIP) | @malicmalic

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 55,512 Main Tags/Warnings: Cannon divergent, established relationship, angst, miscommunication, hurt, apocalypse is upon us, anal sex, oral sex, smut, loads of plot, happy ending. Summary: Castiel and Dean Smith are a regular married couple, living in a little suburban town and working ordinary, uninteresting jobs. However, each of them is concealing a secret: Castiel was once a mighty seraph, an angel of the Lord who decided to fall for human kind and walk among them as their equal. Dean on the other hand is a retired hunter of the supernatural, trying to let go of his past and find a better life after having ended the demon who killed his mother. When a nice, blond, cookie-selling girl scout knocks on their door and unleashes the entire hell on them, the life shattering secrets can no longer stay hidden. Exposed to each other’s worlds, Cas and Dean have to fight to save it from the appending apocalypse, but the insecurities and miscommunication might lead them to lose one another in the process.

I Will Be Your Message From God | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Mature Word Count: 32,415 Main Tags/Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger - The Crypt Scene, Winged Castiel (Supernatural), John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Angst and Feels, Non-Linear Narrative, Castiel-centric (Supernatural), Episode: s01e12 Faith, Episode: s02e13 Houses of the Holy, Episode: s04e16 On the Head of a Pin, Episode: s06e20 The Man Who Would Be King, Time Travel Summary: When Castiel touches the Angel Tablet and it frees him from Naomi's clutches at last, the only thing in his field of vision - both literally and psychologically - is Dean Winchester. He realizes none of this should've been necessary at all. And now, with Naomi chasing him in search of the Tablet, Castiel can only draw one conclusion. He must undo all of this, everything he's done wrong, on Dean's behalf. But his pitfalls are still there. He'll relentlessly pursue his goal at whatever cost, and left to face his own arrogance comes to understand that in reality he has no way to proceed. In addition to Naomi something else seems to be hunting him, something much more powerful and dangerous. And so Castiel can only land briefly before fleeing again, over and over, making an even bigger mess while trying to construct a solution to his past mistakes.

The Resting Place | @5x04dean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 49,481 Main Tags/Warnings: Temporary Minor Character Death, Body Horror, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Horror, Pet Sematary AU Summary: When Sam, Dean, and Castiel head out to investigate a case, they assume nothing is out of the ordinary. But as Dean and Castiel continue to dance around one another's affections, they find that the small town holds deadly secrets—secrets that are far more sinister than any of them would have ever believed. Written for the 2021 DeanCas BigBang.

A Midwinter's Dream | @li-izumi

Rating: Mature Word Count: 53,245 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergence Season/Series 09, Season/Series 10, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester works through his trauma, Minor Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester, Kevin Tran Lives (Supernatural), Charlie Bradbury Lives, Dreams and Nightmares, Christmas, Angst with a Happy Ending, Advent Calendar Challenge Summary: Christmas is fast approaching, but Dean doesn’t feel like celebrating--he’s too busy hunting for that sort of thing. Though he promises to get Cas back in time for the epic Christmas party Sam’s been planning, Dean has no intention of staying himself. That may be another promise Dean can’t keep when the hunt goes wrong, trapping Dean and Cas far from civilization. Worse, Dean is plagued by unrelenting nightmares of his time with the Mark of Cain and is gripped by a lingering anger that he can’t seem to escape. Back at the Bunker, Sam and the others are working a little Christmas magic they hope will show Dean the light in the dark—and prove to him that the holiday spirit isn’t something he needs to hunt.

When Tomorrow Comes | @trenchcoatparadigm

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 78,994 Main Tags/Warnings: Fix-It, Season 15 rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Angst, Family Loss, First Time, Love Confessions, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty, Castiel's Loss of Angelic Grace, First Kiss, Happy Ending Summary: When hunting for the Leviathan blossom, Castiel gets taken. Tired, desperate and wanting to tell him all the things left unsaid before it’s too late, Dean prays to him. But he realises... standing there, in the grey hellish landscape, the portal home flickering just beside them with seconds left on the timer, they already were too late. Running himself ragged fuelled solely by caffeine, whisky, and that trademark Winchester determination, he will find a way to stop Chuck and to save Cas. However, this isn't the blaze of glory Dean had always envisioned going out in. But, deep down, he would go out swinging to save a loved one. Those bright shining penetrating tear-soaked eyes are the last thing he sees before his vision is marred, the desperate plea of his name dampened by the black ooze filling his eardrums as the essence of the Empty wraps around him and pulls him pulled from existence into the dark. All because of that simple prayer, the ending Chuck had always planned was rewritten. With a fallen angel purged of happiness, a brother in mourning and a Nephilim-shaped timebomb the only ones left to Carry On on this desolate planet… What happens when tomorrow comes?

Do You Know What That's Worth? | @norahastuff

Rating: Mature Word Count: 92,212 Main Tags/Warnings: Cas POV, Canon divergent from 9x06, Cas is pretty damn competent, Slow Burn, brief non-explicit Cas/OFC, brief non-explicit Cas/OMC Summary: After Dean leaves him at the Gas N' Sip in Rexford, Castiel realises that he needs to get back in the game. However, that's easier said than done, and instead he finds himself working in a Target-style superstore in Boulder as he tries to figure out his new human life. He makes friends, starts hunting, even has a couple of hook-ups, but when Dean unexpectedly returns, Castiel has to re-evaluate where Dean fits in to this new life he has built for himself, and what it is they need from each other. And while Castiel may have had his grace stripped from him, he still possesses certain angelic sensibilities that may be the key to fixing some of the damage Metatron has wrought. With some creativity, teamwork, and a dash of hope, maybe he can discover just how much he's really capable of. (An alternate season 9 from Cas' POV.)

Eighteen (I've Got to Get Away) | @motherofdragonflies

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 122,569 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Series typical violence, pre-canon, abusive John Winchester, young Dean Winchester, Season One Re-Write, Season Two Re-Write Summary: "Dad always said that family was important. They didn’t have a lot of family, the Winchester men, so they had to stick together. That was part of the rules Dean lived his life by: shoot first, ask questions later. Watch out for Sammy. Winchesters had to stick together. But what about when the rules contradicted each other? Which rule was more important: family sticking together or watching out for Sam?" When Dean turns eighteen, he’s forced to make a decision that will change the course of Sam and Dean’s life.

an empty house is not a home | @hawkland

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 143,247 Main Tags/Warnings: alternative season 13, alternative season 14, time traveling Castiel, switching Dean/Cas, Godstiel Summary: Jack’s grace is gone, and so is Dean—lost to the Michael of the Apocalypse World, and Cas despairs there may be no way to get him back. Not with his limited powers and only Sam and the other hunters to help avert this next apocalypse. Cas can think of only one being who might be powerful enough to stop Michael. But to summon him means a trip back in time to recruit none other than himself, from when he believed he could become the new God. And if called into the future, how will “Godstiel” react to what Cas has become and the existence of Jack…and will he agree to eventually going back? This story reimagines the events from Jack’s birth up through Dean’s possession by Michael with one major change: What if Dean had expressed his true feelings as soon as Cas returned from the Empty? How might their bond, strengthened by love and a more open understanding of each other, have changed the course of all that followed?

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2023 #destiel #fanfic #canon divergent #day 10

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maddie0101 · 5 months

Text

(n.) When two people love each other, but are too shy to admit it, yet they show it anyway.

₪ In which the only girl in the glade doesn’t remember her own best friend, who she fell for, but never got the chance to tell him.

(Thomas tmr x ofc) 18+ ONLY

Note: This series is already completed. I am transferring it to Tumblr from my Wattpad. (I am rewriting it because I am ocd asf.) lmfao. Anyways…I hope y’all come to love my story and Blake 🫶🏼 If you don’t want to wait to read it, my wattpad is @Maddie5139. I really hope I’m not as bad as I think I am at writing, so I do apologize if it isn’t up to par or something sounds odd. I’m still in the learning process and only started writing in July of 2023.

This is a slow burn fic!

♡ Indicates smut

Maze Runner Cast

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven (Editing)

Chapter eight (Editing)

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen ♡

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty one

Chapter twenty two

Chapter twenty three

Scorch Trials Cast

Chapter twenty four

Chapter twenty five

Chapter twenty six ♡

Chapter twenty seven

Chapter twenty eight

Chapter twenty nine

Chapter thirty

Chapter thirty one

Chapter thirty two

Chapter thirty three

Chapter thirty four

Chapter thirty five

Chapter thirty six

Chapter thirty seven

Chapter thirty eight

Chapter thirty nine

Chapter forty

Chapter forty one

Chapter forty two

Chapter forty three

Chapter forty four

Chapter forty five

Chapter forty six

Chapter forty seven

Death Cure Cast

Chapter forty eight

Chapter forty nine

Chapter fifty

Chapter fifty one

Chapter fifty two

Chapter fifty three

Chapter fifty four

Chapter fifty five

Chapter fifty six

Chapter fifty seven

Chapter fifty eight

Chapter fifty nine

Chapter sixty

Chapter sixty one

Chapter sixty two

Chapter sixty three

Chapter sixty four

Chapter sixty five

Chapter sixty six

Chapter sixty seven

Chapter sixty eight

Chapter sixty nine

Chapter seventy

Chapter seventy one

Chapter seventy two ♡

Epilogue

#dylan o'brien #thomas tmr #tmr thomas #thomas tmr x reader #tmr thomas x reader #the maze runner #the death cure #the scorch trials #Thomas tmr fanfic

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chubs-deuce · 26 days

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What kind of friends, Dawn will have in future stories?

Have you thought of any original characters yet?

I don't actually know yet I'm ngl!!!

I am generally in lowkey desperate need for OCs to fill the background with and give the surrounding cast a bit of an expansion, I'm ngl :'DD

I've thought about repurposing some OCs of mine from other fandoms/stories for this, such as Zena:

But ngl I have just zero backstory ideas and her hazbin-ified AU redesign feels a little incoherent in comparison to the canon cast, since they're meant to reflect their life, sins and death...

And idk what kind of sin would make you spawn in hell as an anthropomorphic pig when she's - in her own story - the de-facto leader of a rebellious secret group of outcasts that are desperately trying to find a sustainable cure for a lethal disease that nearly wiped out her entire people... like, she's just a very noble soul fighting for a genuinely good cause? Idk how to make a backstory that matches the design that doesn't feel like a complete rewrite of her and her personality traits...

I also contemplated adding William from my hazbin hotel x fnaf AU to the roster of background characters as both a fun little cameo and an expansion of the sinners that reside in the hotel over time, but I'm unsure if that wouldn't be a bit too difficult for me actually implement without going in-depth about it (the temptation to explore the concept more is simply too high for me lmfao)

As for specifically friends for Dawn... I haven't the foggiest, man! :')

Thing is... her circumstances don't really allow for much room to find friends her age?

Sinners cannot reproduce in this AU, so most of the sinners in hell are teenagers at the earliest (I am assuming mortal souls that aren't at an age yet where they can even comprehend the concept of wilful ignorance of consequences and knowingly committing sins anyways don't go to hell) and they don't physically age after they fall.

I'm ngl I have no clue about what's going on in Cannibal Town and if all of the people there are sinners themselves or if they're more hellborn themselves? (something something hell's natural street-cleaning service that make sure dead bodies don't remain in the open for long) The fact that there's what seems like kids there is a bit bewildering but I imagine with their kind of hive-mind way of thinking and their dietary preferences they wouldn't really be interested in befriending non-cannibal outsiders like Dawn anyways?

And since Dawn is not really a true hellborn in the same sense as the sins, the royal hellborn society or even the lower class denizens of hell's various rings - and also visibly resembles Charlie and in extension Lucifer far less than she reflects her father's appearance, I imagine she wouldn't really fit into any of those social circles either ^^"

This is an issue I actually kind of really want to pick up on with Charlie's past some more as well and expand on with Dawn later, but this also means I don't really find many opportunities to introduce a friend circle for Dawn?

Then again Charlie doesn't really appear to have one either beyond Vaggie and her hotel, so I don't think it'd be thaaaat big of an unbelievability issue in the greater scale of things...

#chubs answers #charlastor fankid #charlastor fanchid #hazbin hotel OC #chubs ocs #dawn morningstar #digital art #art #my art

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justinewt · 11 months

Text

For the Greater Good - TMR REWRITE Chapter Ten

[TMR REWRITE-MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: After Teresa called WICKED on them when the group had just reached the Right Arm that same day, Minho and Grace were both abducted by the organization while their friends barely made it out. Thomas had to watch his sister and one of his closest friend get dragged onboard of the helicarrier, unable to do anything to help them. For 6 months, they were locked up in a facility and experimented on until Thomas, Newt and a back-from-the-dead Gally came to their rescue.

Words: 7.3k

Warnings: TMR Death cure spoilers, angst, mental torture, medical experiments, needles, restraints, violence

Grace tilted her head back and she stared at the overhead lights with a heavy sigh. Her muscles felt so sore. She pulled at her wrists in frustration, but she was handcuffed to a chair, in a small room with a table and another chair facing each other like the one where Janson had briefly questioned Grace and Thomas back when they got to the facility, except this room was bright and white. Her heart ached as she remembered her brother struggling against Jorge, trying to get to her and Minho to save them, calling out their names, yelling at the top of his lungs. She feared what they were going to do to her and Minho here. It had only been a day since they were taken from the Right Arm camp, which went up in flames after WICKED came. All because of Teresa. Grace heard the handle move and the door open. A guard held out the door to no other than Teresa. She dared to greet Grace with a friendly smile. She was met by a death stare.

“How are you feeling?” She sat in front of Thomas’ sister as the door was closed behind her. Grace stared at her without saying anything. Teresa sighed softly, joining her hand on the table. She was trying so hard to come off as welcoming and agreeable, but Grace would never let her forget what she did to all of them by betraying them. “If your muscles are still hurting a little, it’s normal. It should be gone in a couple days.”

“Yeah, I doubt that.” Grace finally spoke, though her words were referring instead to the knife she had stuck in their backs. She was bitter and resented Teresa. Straightening up, she asked, “Where’s Minho?”

“He is being checked by a doctor. Just like you were, when you were still passed out.”

“I want to see him.”

“I’m sorry, Grace. I don’t think Janson and Chancellor Paige will allow that.”

“Do you like that? Huh? Being WICKED’s dog?” Grace asked. She didn’t have to raise her voice very much to let her anger show. Teresa looked at her like she was sad to see her react like this, as if it was surprising after what happened.

“Look, Grace, I came here to tell you something. I’m sorry it had to happen this way, really, but… we need you to help us.”

“You need my blood, not me. Why are you even here acting like you’re trying to bargain with me? Why do you act like you care?”

“This could all be so much easier if you agree to help us.” As she was talking, the door opened, and Janson walked in. He sized up Grace and stood by the table, hands behind his back.

“She’s right. This could all be so much easier if you just agree to help us. Because you know, that if you’re being too difficult… we will take what we want from you anyhow.” He threatened her with this annoyance in his eyes contradicting the smile on his face. “We have much to do right now. We’ll deal with her later, take her to her room.”

He waved nonchalantly at Grace, and she was grabbed by two soldiers who entered as he left. They grabbed her by the arms and not giving her time to get support on her feet, she was dragged out of the room and brought down the corridors. They passed many people in white coats and continued without stopping until they reached a door. At eye level along the wall was a window that looked out into the room within. It was a small room with a single bed with white sheets and blankets and a small light wooden table against the wall, with a chair. A guard slipped a card in a slot provided for this purpose, next to the door and a beep signalled the opening of the latter. She was pushed inside. They left her in handcuffs, and she turned back to the door, which beeped again as it locked. She also realized that the window was obscured from inside the room. They could see her, but she was cut off from what was going on in the halls. She sat on the bed and let her head fall on the pillow. She had no idea what Teresa wanted to tell her. Janson had cut their conversation short after probably being too annoyed by Grace’s behaviour. She was way too angry to comply and be obedient anyway.

As the days passed, Grace felt more and more on edge. She was locked in a room in which we could observe her without her knowledge and the lights were never turned off, which made her have a lot of trouble sleeping. She wasn't doing anything the whole day and the time seemed excruciatingly long. She thought that maybe they were trying to wear her out and push her to the edge so she would be too exhausted to fight back, or maybe they were just preparing the next tortures she would be subjected to. The only time she had some interactions was when she was brought food, and even then, the guards weren’t the most talkative, or when she was taken to get some blood drawn. It was really bugging her how they were just leaving her alone. She knew something was coming, and she also knew that she wouldn’t like it, whatever it would be. After a couple weeks, she was visited again by Teresa, directly in her room this time. The door buzzed loudly, and she sat up on her bed. The woman walked in, followed by an armed soldier.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, pulling the chair away from the table and sitting down.

“Are you going to ask me that every time you talk to me?”

“I’m just being mindful. You might believe me, but I care about your wellbeing, and Minho’s.” Her voice was soft, but it wasn’t fooling Grace. “I really need to have this talk with you, and I would prefer to do it myself. Janson won’t be as patient.”

“Oh, you’re so kind.” Grace rolled her eyes, pulling at the handcuffs, looking away from Teresa.

“We have been running tests on the blood samples we collected from you, Minho, and the others. You must have notified we weren’t taking you out of your room very often. We compared—”

“Get to the fucking point already.” Grace cut her off, sighing.

“We discovered something in your blood. The enzyme your brain produces is 110 percent more efficient against the flare.” She sounded excited and happy about what she was telling her, but it was all gibberish to her ears. “Not only do your body fights off the flare, but it also controls it. It’s as if it was assimilating to your system, rendering it harmless to you. You’re more immune than anyone else we’ve seen. Even more than Thomas.”

Grace instantly looked back at Teresa when she mentioned her brother. What she was saying was somehow not very surprising. This was a theory she had ever since she saw them draw so much blood from her at the facility in the desert. And now, she had the confirmation that there was something more about her and her blood, something that was very interesting and precious to WICKED. They probably already knew about it but needed a lot of her blood to run a few more tests and be sure. In any case, they took their time doing it.

“So? What now?” Grace enquired, holding her hands tightly to keep from fidgeting with her fingers.

“We are on the right track to synthesize a cure, thanks to you, Grace.” The latter glanced at Teresa. She would never get out of here if she was their golden ticket to a cure. They would never let her go and it made her grow anxious. So anxious about what they would do to her to get it that she was petrified. “We still need to conduct a few tests, and we need to find someone to try it on but we’re positive we can do it.”

“And why are you telling me this? They don’t need my permission to make me their lab rat.” Grace spat through her gritted teeth.

“I don’t want them to hurt you, that is why.” This made her let out a chuckle. She didn’t believe her anymore. She didn’t believe she actually cared, because she jeopardized the safety of everyone to get here and to get to this. Grace surprised herself when she spoke.

“I’ll agree to help you.” She turned her head to Teresa. “But I have a couple conditions.”

“Tell me.”

“I want them to conduct tests and shit, only on me. Not on Minho, or the others. I won’t fight back… if they leave him alone. Torture me not him.”

“You won’t be tortured, Grace—”

“Don’t bullshit me, please. Just go tell them and get on with it.” She looked away, gulping quietly. Teresa said she would go talk to Paige and see what she could do, promising her to do her best but she didn’t care about her worthless promises. She didn’t meet Teresa’s gaze again when she left and had a gloomy face, staring into space, as if she had signed her death certificate. To ensure Minho’s wouldn’t be tortured by WICKED, she had negotiated that everything be done to her, without having the slightest idea of how far their experiments would go and that thought alone made her feel sick to her stomach. She knew that if Minho was here, he would have never let her do this, but he wasn’t, and she didn’t want them to hurt him for the sake of science when they already had what they needed to make a cure with her. If she could ensure he would be safe, she was ready to do anything, even if it led to her death, though she prayed it wouldn’t come to that. She wanted to see her brother again. She wanted to Newt and all her friends again. She wanted to see Sonya again and get to know her, which she would never be able to do if she died at the hands of WICKED. It took until the next day for Teresa to come back. She talked to Chancellor Paige, and she had agreed to leave Minho out of this, the only condition was for Grace to never be difficult and agree to every test they would need to do. She agreed and knew it was going to be a long way to hell.

Her bare feet sinking into the snow, Grace walked on without really knowing where to go. Strangely, she didn't feel the cold, despite the fact that she wasn't wearing shoes or a jacket. Her clothes were thin, but she didn't seem to mind the temperature, which was probably in the negatives given the snow that was falling nonstop. She saw a forest straight ahead. There was nothing else on the horizon, so she headed there with a quiet step. As she approached the edge of the forest, she heard someone calling her, which caused her to go deeper into the woods, so that soon she found herself in the shade of the trees and of their tall, thick foliage. She walked blindly, following the voice that echoed around her. She only realized after getting too far into the forest that the snow had disappeared around her. She stepped on a branch that creaked under her foot. Suddenly, everything became silent, and the atmosphere changed drastically. The air became heavy and thick, and she found it harder and harder to breathe. Gasping for air, she held her hands to her throat and collapsed.

She was choking and there was nothing she could do. She closed her eyes for a second and as she tried to take deep breaths, she felt water seep through her nose and mouth and found herself banging furiously against a glass wall. This time, she felt the coldness in the water she was immersed in, right down to her bones. She wanted to hold her breath but the water she had already breathed made her cough and take deeper breaths. His vision was blurring. She no longer had the strength to hit the glass in front of her and her body shook with a brutal spasm, then another and she felt like falling into an abyssal void. Everything was dark around her. She let go and opened her eyes when she heard the heartbreaking cry of a Griever. Without thinking she took a deep breath and felt air fill her lungs, but the relief was short lived. She got up and quickly realized that she was in the labyrinth, in the middle of the night. She didn't even try to understand the meaning of everything that was happening, as if it seemed normal. There was a second screech that echoed through the corridors of the maze, and she began to run at full speed, not even knowing if she was getting closer to the monster or if she was moving away from it. She didn't care about being barefoot, she just ran breathlessly, terrified of coming face to face with one of her half-machines, half-organic creatures.

Taking a turn, she slipped and fell heavily to the ground. She felt her body go to the side and she slid into a wide gap between the platform and the wall. She screamed at the top of her lungs and fell silent when she realized that she was glued to the stone wall. She felt like her whole body was trembling from the inside. Her breath was shaky as well and she heard the metallic clinging of the Griever climbing up the wall. The creature covered her body and she found herself only inches from his head. He opened his mouth, letting out a squealing scream, bringing up a foul smell from the bowels of the earth. She closed her eyes as hard as she could and turned her head to the side, her face distorted with fear, and screamed. When she opened her eyes again, it took her a few seconds to stop and realize where she was. Her throat hurt like hell, but with a quick look around reminded her that she was not back in the maze. She heard the voice of a scientist rise in the room. She was barely catching her breath, her eyes wide from what she had been put through. After a minute, she was taken out of whatever machine she was in and carried to a bed. Her whole body felt drained of any ounce of energy that she ever had, as if she had turned into a ragdoll. She was strengthless. Her arms hanging loosely along the bed, she stared above her, breathing weakly.

The bed she was moved around on was pushed against a wall. Her vision was still blurry, but she could make out the shapes of several people, busy around her. She felt her arms being lifted and then rested on the sides of the bed. Her eyes moved slowly, and she tried to focus and follow some of the movements. She watched as plastic bags were hooked to IV poles on each side of her bed. One of the pouches contained a liquid that appeared to be translucent and the others a dark red liquid. She guessed the many tubes she could see linked the bags to her body, but she couldn't feel anything. The noises of machines and the words exchanged around her mixed in an incessant buzzing as if she was surrounded by a thousand bees. She saw someone lean over her and place a mask over her face. She took a breath, and her eyes grew heavier and heavier, until they closed completely, and she let herself sink in the dark again.

She did everything they asked of her, and she was still not allowed to see Minho, but Teresa assured he was being taken care of and not tested on. She didn’t trust her, but she had to take her word for it since she couldn’t check for herself. The only thing to do was hoping they were keeping their word. With Grace in their hands, it didn’t take the scientists as long as she thought to try and see if their vaccine actually cured people from the flare. What would take a little more time would be to see how long the cure they made was effective before they got sick again, if they got sick again at all, because there was a world where it did work out perfectly and in which Grace turned out to be the source of the cure for all of humanity. If it was the world they were in, Grace would be condemned to serve as their supply for the creation of this vaccine and would never see the light of the sun ever again. She would be sucked dry by these vampires, but they would act as if they were so grateful of her sacrifice. The sacrifice of a 17-year-old girl who happened to be more immune to the flare than others. To her great misfortune. But if they had gotten Thomas as well, he would be subjected to the exact same treatment and she didn’t want that, though she didn’t want to die for those greedy, selfish people either. While she was plunged into a vegetative state for months at a time, she only dreamed of one thing.

Getting out of there and seeing her brother and friends again.

She wanted to have another chance at life. She wanted to be more than what they saw in her. Maybe, if she could make it out of there alive, she could also see if anything could come out of that spark she felt when meeting Sonya.

Grace wasn’t really being told anything anymore and she couldn’t even get out of bed. She had been transferred to a bigger room where she was strapped to a sort of hospital bed, her arms stretched out to the sides. So many tubes were connected to the crooks of her elbows, the backs of her hands and really, wherever they could stick a needle, they had. She was bedridden and fed through a tube that had been inserted in her skin and into her stomach and an oxygen mask was sometimes slapped on her face to put her to sleep. When she was conscious and awake, she wasn't even fully aware of what was going on around her anyway. She just had this blurry, constant vision of masked people in white coats bustling around her. Usually, it was pretty quiet and when they did speak, she couldn't make out half the words, but she guessed they might be speaking way more when she was asleep, which she was most of the time.

“Can you hear me?” Teresa spoke to her softly, sitting across from her. Grace did hear her. She was physically unable to respond, her whole body feeling numb like she was still feeling the effects of the aesthetics and drugs that they used on her even though she had been brought here for some time already. She couldn’t tell how long it had been since they put her in this room, on this chair with Teresa. Grace looked terrible. She looked exhausted and sick, a dull grayish complexion on her face. It looked like she was asleep with her eyes open, her cuffed hands stretched out in front of her on the table. If there hadn't been a backrest on her chair, she would have collapsed to the floor without a doubt. Even though she couldn’t react very much, she listened to Teresa.

“There’s a little girl here. Her name is Shai Lun. She’d been infected for three weeks but, Grace… you saved her.”

Although her body remained still, her chest heaving at each weak breath she took, Grace looked up tiredly at Teresa. Hearing this, a glimmer of hope passed through her eyes. If what she was saying was true, maybe her sacrifice would have served some purpose, and saved this little girl. Teresa saw the way she looked at her and gave her a smile, nodding.

“We’ve had her here for observation for weeks now. You saved her. And you can save so many others. Everything we’re doing here, it’s working.” Her smile stretched at the joy that this statement brought her. “Do you understand? That’s why this is so important.”

Hoping that Grace would say something to her made Teresa greatly disappointed when the later just looked down at the table again. She sighed and stood up.

“I just wanted you to know.”

“Teresa.” When she turned her back to her, Grace called her name so softly it almost sounded like a whisper.

“Grace?” She asked as if she thought she had dreamed being called out to. She approached and leaned gently towards her. The girl lifted her head slightly, looking up at Teresa. Grace swallowed harshly, her throat feeling so sore and parted her lips.

“Minho… let me see him… please…” She had to speak directly into Teresa's ear, the sound of her voice being so low. Pronouncing these 6 words had already almost made her breathless. Teresa straightened up and nodded, unable to promise her that this meeting would actually happen. Two guards then came in and grabbed Grace by the arms, lifting her up from the chair and moving her out of the room. Her body hanged from their hand like she was just a rag, and she was brought to a single room which she recognized to be the one she was in before they started actively experimenting on her. The guards put her on the bed, lying on her right side and connected her handcuffs to chains tied to the feet of the bed. The chain was so short she couldn’t even think of rolling over, but she didn’t have the energy to do so anyway. She stared at the window across the wall. She couldn’t see what was going on in the hallways but anyone stopping by could watch her in the room. It was the least of her worries. Grace closed her eyes and she was so tired that despite the bright, white lights on the ceiling, she managed to fall asleep almost instantly.

When she woke up, Grace let out a yawn so big it felt like her jaw was dropping. She winced. Her mouth hurt. She straightened up with difficulty leaning on her forearm to bring her face closer to her hands and touched her mouth with her fingertips. She hissed when she touched actual wounds. Her lips were so dry and irritated that the corners of her mouth were cracked. Maybe that played in why Teresa looked at her with so much concern in her eyes when they met. Or maybe this was just an impression and Teresa didn't care about how awful Grace looked. Her eyes then went down her hands and arms. She knew they had been drawing blood from her for a while now, sticking needles wherever they could but she hadn’t realized how bad it was. There were large, dark blue-purple bruises all over her skin. A squeal escaped her lips, and she felt her body shake. Seeing those bruises covering nearly every square inch of her skin shocked her and she felt her stomach churn. She felt sick and a sudden wave of heat came over her upper body. It was as if she was burning up and she collapsed onto the floor with a grunt, staring at the ceiling, in pain. Her breaths fastened.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw a guard being hurried inside the room to detach the chain from the handcuffs. Seeing these two people come in gave her an idea. She felt something cold being pressed against her shoulder and she quickly felt her body and breathing relax.

“How long did I asleep?” She asked faintly.

“You’ve slept since your meeting with Teresa, this morning. You needed the rest.” The woman gave her a smile and helped her sit at the table against the wall. She showed no resistance and let herself be handled, swiftly stealing her access card from her pocket. Surprisingly, the doctor then told the guard to remove her handcuffs as the girl wasn’t going anywhere in her state. While she had her back turned, Grace let herself fall against the backrest of the chair and slipped the card at her waist, held in place by the elastic of her pants. If she tried to escape from this place, she might need this card to even get out of this room in the first place. The guard took her handcuffs off and remained in the room to watch her while the woman walked to the door. She reached for her card but didn’t find it and she patted her pockets, not understanding where it could have gone. She motioned for the guard to open for her and left. A couple minutes later, someone came in carrying a food tray. It was placed in front of Grace and after she ate, the doctor came back, this time sending the guard on his way so she could check on Grace’s bruises. A kidney plate on the table caught his eye. His arms were outstretched, one on the table the other in the doctor's hands. Grace pushed the tray over the edge of the table, exaggerating the exhaustion she was in to make it seem accidental. Cotton balls rolled on the floor.

“Sorry.” Grace breathed out.

“It’s all right. I’ll take care of it.” The woman turned her back to her and bent over to gather the cotton balls and the other stuff that fell from the tray. Grace had a sudden burst of energy, and she immediately grabbed a syringe from another tray and a small bottle of drugs. She didn't take the time to read the label and just filled the syringe with it before stabbing the needle in the woman lower back. She injected the liquid and watch her body drop to the floor. Grace had no idea if she was really unconscious, but she stood up. Her legs almost gave out beneath her, and she caught herself on the table before straightening up and dropping down beside the woman lying there. She took off her white blouse and shoes. The teenage girl then put all that on and got up, not without much difficulty, leaning on the back of the chair.

“This is useless, you know?” Grace glanced over her shoulders and shrugged, breathing heavily.

“I gotta try.” She said standing at her full height facing the door, trying to hide the colossal amount of effort that it took her not to fall right here and there. She slipped the card into the slot next to the door. It buzzed open and she stepped out in the hallway of the medical wing, where she had spent day after day for the past few months. She had never put so much focus on something as basic as walking but placing one foot in front of the other while standing without any support seemed so hard. She felt her legs shaking and the thought of collapsing in the hallway terrified her, so she forced herself to keep going when she heard the doctor's voice coming from her room. The latter was shouting at a guard to go after her and in the blink of an eye she was pinned down, the guard's knee pressing against her back while he held her bruised arms with a strong grip. Being on the floor was almost relaxing after trying so hard to walk, if it weren't for the pain she was being put through. The fatigue came back in a second and she didn’t even realize when she passed out. She opened and closed her eyes without being able to move a finger and that blurry vision was back. She heard voices around her but the words were confused and sounded deafened and all she could really tell was that she was lying on some sort of bed, in a room she didn't know. Her eyes half open she saw an orange light swirling in the corridors, not knowing what was going on. It was as if not only was her body asleep again, but her mind and senses were also functioning in slow motion. She felt a pressure somewhere on her body, but she was so numb she couldn’t tell where it came from though, she recognized the pressure of a syringe. She slowly realized she was coming out of whatever they had used to sedate her a moment prior when she heard glass breaking sharply on the floor and loud grunting as if there was fight going on. The sounds became clearer as the grunting turned into yelling and she almost fell off the bed when she tried to get up. She felt strong hands catching her in her fall and as she was helped up, she saw Thomas’ face and couldn’t believe it.

“Thomas.” She didn’t care about the pain that continuously shot through her bruised limbs and wrapped her arms around her brother with a sob. Newt and Minho were panting from the effort the fights required, standing there a few feet away from the siblings just reuniting. They joined in the hug after Grace gave them a look when she noticed them in the room. She also gave them each a hug and upon turning back to Thomas, she saw him staring at her arms in shock. Taking a step back, she hit the bed and looked at the three boys. Newt and Minho had also just seen the state in which WICKED had left her and she couldn't help but look away. Seeing what her arms looked like made her sick to her stomach but seeing the guilt in their eyes made her feel even worse. She thought of telling them she was fine, but she couldn’t even resort herself to saying such blatant lies. She felt dizzy and her body was weak, barely able to stand on her own.

“Grace—”

“It’s— I didn’t want them to experiment on you.” She said in one breath, wrapping her arm around her stomach, holding her side. She patted lightly when she felt a bandage under her T-shirt. For a split second she wondered what they had done to her, and she quickly remembered that she had spent most of her last months hooked up to machines, a tube in her stomach to feed her. Not one of them really said anything. All three of them were at an abyssal loss of words. Thomas looked around and grabbed one of the doctors lying dead and lifted the body, grabbing it by the collar to pull off its white coat and put it around Grace's shoulders. She couldn't hide the pain that shot through her arms as she tucked them into the sleeves and closed her eyes so as not to see the way the boys were staring at her.

“Let’s get them out of here.” Thomas glanced at Newt and nodded. He helped Grace to walk out of the room but as they came around the corner of the corridor, a bunch of soldiers spotted them and yelled in their direction. Grace barely had time to realize, she let out a gasp when she was suddenly lifted off the floor and found herself in Thomas's arms as the boys ran in the opposite direction. She clung to Thomas and watched the soldiers chasing them with dread on her tired face. As they fled, she met Janson's gaze and felt her heart skip a beat, holding her breath until he left her field of vision. They were desperately trying to shake off Janson and the soldiers but came to a halt when the latter came from in front of them. Grace ducked her head in Thomas’ neck when they fired in their direction. Minho urged them to get into the room to their right and slammed the door shut and locking it. Janson could be heard grunting as he banged on the door furiously. Thomas took a look around the room while Newt and Minho knocked over a piece of furniture across the door to block it. They backtracked against the large bay window overlooking the rest of the city. Grace stared at the door anxiously, trying to stay calm but with the fatigue and pain she was in, she was kind of all over the place.

“Oh, shit…” Thomas swore as they heard loud steps on the other side of the door. Janson really wanted that door open for the sole reason that he felt so entitled to what was in their blood and the cure that could come out of it. Though she was scared shitless, Grace knew that now that Thomas had her back, WICKED was going to have to keep their claws off her. Grace gulped as she heard a drill whirring. They were trying to saw through the lock on the door to open it.

“Any ideas?” Minho enquired while he and Newt stared at the door, sparks flying inside the room. Grace followed Thomas gaze as he turned to the window and looked down. He showed the pool beneath them and stepped aside, still carrying his sister in his arms while Newt and Minho threw a huge canister at the window, shattering the glass. He put Grace on her feet, holding her firmly by the waist and all four of them stood on the edge, watching the canister fall heavily into the water.

“It’s doable.” Thomas said, glancing at his sister and friend. In other circumstances, Grace would have laughed when she saw Minho’s doubtful face. “Just need a little running start.” Thomas was the first to walk towards the middle of the room, swiftly taking his sister back in his arms since she couldn't run, even for such a short distance. He told her to hold on tight and she clung to him, ignoring the pain that shot through her bruised hands, staring fearfully through the window, taking breaths to try to calm down.

“You sure about this?” Minho asked.

“Not really.” He saw the look on Grace’s face and added; “it’s gonna be okay.”

“Nice pep talk.”

“Yeah, we’re all bloody inspired.” Newt added sarcastically.

The sound of the saw stopped, and Grace turned her head towards the door. There was a silence for a couple of seconds before they started ramming the door. The door banged open, and Janson stepped over the furniture on the floor to get in the room. Thomas swore under his breath and the three boys ran for it and jumped out the window. He shouted, telling Grace to hold her breath but she didn't have time to process what he said and what was happening. She screamed her brother’s name as they fell. She opened her eyes underwater, blinded by this cloud of bubbles and this deaf sound that was her voice. In a matter of less than a second, the nightmares she had of herself drowning came back and she panicked. She was pulled out by Thomas and desperately gasped for air, coughing dryly, and wincing at the sensation of her nose and throat sore from breathing in water. He tightened his grip of her and pushed the hair sticking to her face, reassuring her. She calmed down but had no control over the cough she was seized with. Thomas gave the middle finger to Janson, who was watching them from the windowsill and the group swam to shore. Grace let Thomas pull her with him, out of breath. Only when he put her on the edge of the pool before he even got out of the water, did she realize she was sobbing, panting, coughing and shaking all at once. He pulled Minho and Newt out of the water and helped Grace get on her feet when soldiers ordered them to stay where they were, their machine guns aiming at them. There weren’t many options, so they obliged. While staring at the soldiers, Thomas whispered to Grace to help her calm down. He tried to reach for the handgun at his thigh, but they saw him, advising him not to do that.

“Get on your knees with your hands in the air.” Grace gasped loudly and widened her eyes when one of the soldiers started firing at his peers, stunning them with the electric shots. Once they were all down, he came towards them and took off his mask. Her jaw dropped when she saw Gally standing right in front of them.

“Minho. Grace.” He nodded at them before looking up the building. “You guys are nuts.”

“I’ll explain later.” Thomas then told Minho and his sister, who looked at each other in shock before walking away. Grace heavily relied on her brother’s support to walk along them. She could feel her legs almost giving way with every step. It took so much energy from her; she would have never been able to walk on her own. She barely managed to take deep breaths. Sneaking through the city was really not easy on her. They slid on the ground, hiding from the soldiers looking for them. Thomas sat her down against the grove's half wall, in between him and Gally. She held her arms with a low moan of pain through her teeth. She almost felt even more drained than back there.

“Well, they’re definitely pissed.” Gally declared.

“How far are the tunnels?” Thomas enquired as he took off his soaked gloves, looking at his sister with concern. She was way calmer now, but he could tell she was in a lot of pain, on top of being exhausted.

“Uh, maybe blocks from here.” They all looked ahead of them upon hearing Newt, who was a few feet away, sitting next to Minho, started coughing his lungs out. Grace stared at him, not understanding what was wrong with him at first but when it clicked, her face dropped, and she felt her heart and stomach sank to her feet. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be infected. They were supposed to be immune to this. Gally looked at the two siblings. “We can make it.”

Thomas didn’t say anything. Him and Gally crouched behind the wall, on the look out but she kept staring at Newt. She had just reunited with her friends, and she was faced with the realization that one of them was dying and that she could save him with all the fucking vaccines or whatever that they made using her, but they needed time to get said cure. She was so focused on the fact that Newt was dying that she completely overlooked the reappearance of Gally. Minho came towards them.

“Hey. How long has he been like this?”

“He’ll be okay. We just gotta get to Brenda.” Thomas said, taking off his jacket. “She’s got the serum. Come on, let’s go.”

Thomas tried to help his sister get up, but she pushed him away, telling him to take care of Newt. Minho and Gally, or either of them, could help her. They watched him catch Newt as he almost fell over and walked away. Until then, she hadn't really cared about the sticky feel of her soaked clothes on her skin, but she suddenly couldn't bare it anymore and leaned forward, moaning from the pain as she tried to pull the blouse off.

“Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy, Grace. Don’t hurt yourself.” Minho hastened to stop her and helped her take off the blouse. Gally's eyes slid down her arms as she fell back against the low wall. Like every single one of them when they saw all the bruises, he couldn’t help but stare in shock, though he tried to control his expression, she could tell in his eyes. He was taken out of his stupor by Minho’s voice. “Why you helping us, Gally? I put a spear through your chest.”

“Yeah. Nobody’s perfect, man.” He shrugged it off and was about to help Grace up but a quick look from Minho was enough to make Gally understand that he got this so the latter just stood up, patting him on the shoulder and walked off.

“Can you stand?” She nodded and he put her arm around his shoulder, holing her by the waist and they just started following Gally and Thomas when she spoke with a faint voice.

“Minho… did they do something to you?”

“They put me through a bunch of simulations, but they only did it a couple of time.”

“Okay. Good…” She nodded, resting her eyes as they walked. She was relieved to hear that Teresa did keep her word and stopped the experiments on him and the others.

“What did you do, Grace?” His question got her to look at him from the corner of her eyes and the silence that followed pushed her to say something. Her brother and Newt were far ahead but not Gally. She knew he would hear but it wasn't that much of a problem. She just didn't want Thomas to know about all this. For now, anyway. On the way, she proceeded to tell him about the day Teresa came to talk to her, trying to get her to cooperate, and she ended up agreeing to do all this and that her only condition to this was for them to leave Minho alone and not use him for any experiments of any kind. She could tell he was upset to hear all this, but the guilt outweighed it. He came out of this safe and sound because she took it all on her. She didn’t have to tell him about how they drew her blood almost every day, leaving her bedridden and in a medically induced coma for a while. She didn’t tell him about the anxiety-inducing nightmares of her drowning or about how sick she gets when she looks at her arms now.

“Anyway… I’ll recover from this.”

“They tortured you—”

“And I agreed to it. It was a shit decision, but it doesn’t matter…” She shook her head, letting out a sigh. “You should go help Thomas with Newt.”

“Grace, you can barely walk on your own.”

“I’ll help her.” Gally turned to them and pushed by Grace, Minho went ahead and put Newt’s arm around his shoulder. She took a step forward and it was enough for her to lose her balance and catch herself on the arm that Gally held out to her. They resumed their walk and stopped in their tracks again, watching an explosion occur further ahead of them. “We’re supposed to take down WICKED, not the whole damn city.”

“Gally, come on.” Thomas urged him to continue on their way and Grace had to wait for him to follow them and looked up at him observing the fire left by the explosion. He didn't seem so thrilled with how far this was going but she didn’t really care. She already had a hard time with Gally back in the Glade and she still wasn’t too fond of him, but he seemed nicer than he used to be. If someone had told her that she would stop hating Gally one day and that he would even go so far as helping her out, she wouldn’t have believed it. When you remember how he ran after her and she taunted him from the top of a tree after she tried out for the Builders during the first week, she would have never thought she would even accept help from him.

[To be continued…]

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Published (26/06/2023) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405 @kika64

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