#tried to map out my route but it directed me to walk through a wall to get to a bus stop that didn't exist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moby-writing-and-stuff · 9 months

Text

Poke-Rus 2.0

Ash groaned as he walked up the side of Mount Coronet, the sun beating down on top of his hat-clad head.

“Pika….” Pikachu groaned as he hopped up, resting his head on Ash’s leg

“I know pal, I know” Ash muttered, sweat pouring down his head as he looked around “I don’t see them either….” the 19-year-old trainer muttered as he pulled out his map again, and took another glance at it “Arceus damn it, where are we?” he muttered.

He and Pikachu had been split apart from the rest of their friends after a freak rainstorm hit their camp in the middle of the night. A huge amount of water poured down out of nowhere and caused the spot where Ash’s tent was to crumble and slide downwards. By the time it stopped, Ash and Pikachu were in the middle of a forest, far away from any road that he recognized and his Poke-Dex completely fired by the rain.

Which pretty much left him to find his way around with a faded old map and his awful sense of direction.

“Right so…. If I’m looking at this right” he muttered, squinting as he tried to get a good look at the faded images on the paper “There should be a cave…..right there” he muttered and glanced up, a big smile on his face as he saw the opening in the mountain wall “Perfect!”

“Pika!” the small pokemon chirped, climbing up Ash’s arm and grinning

“Yeah, thought it was about time we got some damn good news!” Ash said with a big smile, walking past the cave, still looking at the map “Right so there should be a bridge and from there we can meet back up with Route 216, where we can me-” Ash’s words died in his throat as he saw the scene in front of him.

The bridge was torn to shreds, loose planks of wood hanging loosely from a rope so old it looked seconds away from snapping. Even wild flying types avoided the thing, clearly afraid of being hurt when it broke

“DAMN IT!” Ash groaned, crumbling the map in hands “I HAD TO OPEN MY MOUTH DIDN’T I!?” he shouted, throwing the thing down into the ravine that separated him from civilization

“Pika!” his partner shouted from his shoulder “Pikachu pika!”

“Just, everything since that damn rainstorm has been just a mess and I’m just sick and-GAAAH!” Ash cried as he received a light zap to his cheek.

“PIKA!” the yellow electric type said, the tone a lot more serious as he pointed above him. The raven harried young adult groaned and looked up

“Oh come on!” he groaned as he saw pitch-black storm clouds starting to form overhead “Another one!?”

“Chu….” Pikachu muttered with a sad nod

“Perfect...just fricking perfect….” the raven hair boy muttered as he looked around “Guess we’re spending the night in that cave….” he mumbled, heading over the small opening he had passed without thought earlier. Ducking his head to not hit it on the low stone ceiling, Ash worked his way inside the small opening. The moment he did so, a loud crack of thunder echoed through the cavern, sending shivers up and his spine.

“Phew…. That was close” Ash muttered as he sat down deep in the back of the cave “The last thing we need is to get caught in another storm, right Pikachu?”

“Pika,” the pokemon said with a nod as he hopped off.

“Well, guess we’re spending the night in this tiny place” Ash muttered, looking around “At least it’s a pretty cavern” he smiled as he looked at the ceiling.

The rocks were shimmering and sparkling as small gems peeked through. Quartz littered all over, and the small amount of light trickled in with the occasional lightning bolt made the cave’s roof like a clear night sky. Ash’s eyes wandered all over it, a lazy smile on his face until they focused on something. It wasn’t a chunk of quartz like the rest, this one was much bigger.

It was a big greenish rock with a yellow lightning bolt in the center of it, its jagged shape making it stand out from the rest of the smooth quartz-coated rock. Ash grinned and got to his feet, running his fingers over the front of the stone.

“Heh, a Thunder Stone” he muttered with a smile “We might be able to get a good amount of money for this one. Guess we’re getting some sort of cosmic balance, right?” he said as he grabbed the stone and gave it a tug, but it refused to budge. He frowned and gave it a stronger tug, the thing moving a few inches at that. “Huh, damn. This thing is in tight” he muttered, grabbing it with both hands and pulling it at with all his strength.

It slowly began to give, moving slowly off the wall, but as he pulled it, a small hiss began to ring out. Ash blinked and stopped, looking near the stone where he saw that there was a bit of grey dust flowing out from behind the stone.

“That’s weird…” Ash muttered, slowly letting go of the Thunder Stone, but sadly it was too late. With another crash of thunder that shook the cavern, the Thunder Stone fell free, and from behind it a blast of grey mist shot out and hit Ash right in the face.

“GAH!” he cried, his eyes burning as he felt the thing. He stumbled backward, slipping on his legs and falling on his but. He coughed as he felt the gas enter his lungs and his throat felt as if it was closing. He groaned, leaning his head back as he felt a wave of lethargy wash over him. “P-Pikachu!” he called out, his voice raspy as everything began to go dark. He heard the pattering of his partner’s paws “G-Go….cough get help! P-Please” and with those words, the darkness overcame him and he passed out.

“Guh…” Ash groaned, as he felt light pierce through his eyelids, sense rushing back into his body. He shifted around slightly as he the sensation of touch returned, but it wasn’t what he expected.

He didn’t feel the tough, rough rock he remembered falling on, instead he felt something soft and rather silky.

“Patient is awakening” he heard a voice say. He also felt someone grab his arm and prick it with something codl

“G-Gah” he groaned in pain, opening his eyes. He winced as he found himself staring up at a light of some sort.

“Easy” he heard that same voice say again, as his vision slowly got adjusted to the light “Don’t move too fast.”

“W-Where?” Ash gasped, his throat so dry he could barely speak.

“Shh” he heard the voice again, and a cold glass of water was brought to his lips “Go ahead, take a drink”. Ash didn’t answer, just opening his mouth and greedily chugging the clear liquid. He drank for a solid minute, completely emptying the glass. “There ya go”

“T-Thank you” Ash gasped out, turning to look at the person who was helping him. He was greeted with a kindly-looking face, maybe a few years older than him. He had chocolate brown skin and hair, cut in a crew-cut style. He was clad in a lab coat, a blue dress shirt, and a pair of jeans. Tucked under his arm was a clipboard of some kind. “W-Where…?”

“Your in the Jubilive City General Hospital” the guy, clearly a doctor, said with a smile “You are in the long-term care ward.”

“H-Hospital?” Ash muttered, looking around the room. Indeed, it was a hospital room, sterile white walls and floors, bright white lights on the roof above, a TV that Ash was sure was older than the building itself was hanging on the corner of the room, in an angle that would make looking it almost impossible. “H-How?”

“Your Pikachu got our attention” the doctor said with a smile “It was pure luck, but my partner and I were taking a hike out that day. We were looking for some cover from the rain when we saw a Pikachu running around, shouting at the top of its lungs.” he grabbed the clipboard and read over it as he spoke “I followed it back to the cavern and found you, passed out with a concussion”

“How long have I been out?” Ash asked, coughing out the last of his dehydration

“About two days” the doctor said, which made Ash frown

“Two days?” he blinked as he repeated “I don’t know a lot about medicine, but isn’t two days a bit much for a light concussion?”

“It is” the man said with a nod “See, there’s another reason you’ve been out”

“Why?”

“Something happened to you in that cave” the doctor said calmly, going into full medical mode “It’s something we have seen before, but it was years ago. It’s a retrovirus of a kind we don’t really understand that well. It seems to not be infectious from person to person, but it has infected you”

“W-Wait what?” Ash muttered, his eyes going wide “A-Am going to-”

“No, you are not going to die” the doctor interrupted with a soft smile “We don’t know that much about this virus I admit. Its unlike anything we’ve ever seen, but it does not seem to be deadly.” Ash let out a breath he hadn’t realized he sucked in, laying his head back on the soft pillows “We do not know exactly what it will do to you however. At the moment it just seems to have affected your skin”

“My skin?” Ash asked, touching his face out of reflex.

The doctor nodded and pulled out his phone “Here”

Ash took the phone and turned it on, taking a look at his face through the camera. He looked mostly normal, but there were a couple of splotches on his cheeks and his chin that weren’t. Curious, he reached up with his free and and gently ran his finger over them. It didn’t feel like skin anymore, at least not human skin. It was a lot rougher, like it could take a good hit with a sharp object and not get cut. “W-What’s happening to me?”

“We’re not sure. Like I said, we haven’t seen a virus like this in years and when we did last time, no one was infected.” the doctor said calmly, giving Ash a sympathetic look

“Y-You said that you’ve seen it before…” Ash muttered, still touching the spots on his face with worry “D-Does that mean you have a cure?”

“Sadly not yet” the man said shaking his head “We are working on it, but we need more time to really understand the disease before we even think of trying cures.”

“S-So what do we do?” Ash asked, taking a deep breath

“For now, you’ll have to stay here” the doctor explained “While we don’t believe the virus to be infectious to other humans, its best to keep you mostly isolated in case the disease mutates and manages to jump to another person. That also means that you’ll have to stay away from pokemon”

“Pokemon...Wait, where’s Pikachu!?” Ash asked, remembering his best friend, dropping the phone onto the bed and quickly standing up.

“Woah woah, take it easy Ash” the doctor said, putting his hand on Ash’s shoulder. The young man shivered as he felt the contact. “He’s fine. We took him to the Hospital’s daycare”

“Daycare?”

“Of course” the Doctor said with a small smile “You’d be shocked how many times we see trainers who neglect their own health for their pokemon’s. So we have a daycare service to take caer of them. All your pokemon will be well cared for while you are in here”

“Alright” Ash muttered, looking down and blushing a bit as realised he was clad in nothing but his boxers “Um…”

“Your clothes are over there” the doctor said with a chuckle, pointing at a neatly folded set of clothes on one of the guest chairs “Now, if there’s nothing else, we’ll start tests soon. I’ll let you get comfy in the meantime”

“Sure, thanks doctor….” Ash blinked and blushed again “Sorry I didn’t catch your name…”

“Oh right, I apologise” the dark skinned man said with a friendly smile “I’m Doctor Davidson. I’ll be the one in charge of researching the virus, so if you need anything you get the nurses to call me”

“Will do. Thank you doctor Davidson” Ash said with a smile as he grabbed his shirt and started getting dressed, getting ready for quite a long stay at the hospital.

==================

Three Days Later

“Afternoon Ash” Davidson said as he opened the door to Ash’s door, a friendly smile on his face

“Hey doc” Ash said, returning the smile as he looked at the man wheel in a cart

“Ready for the tests?” the doctor asked as he sat down, cart next to him

“Yeah” Ash said with a nod and a small smile.

“So, how have you been feeling?” Davidsone asked, putting on some latex gloves

“Ok I guess” the raven haired patient said with a shrug. The splotches on his face were growing, the one on his chin having grown to connect with the other two and spreading slowly down to his neck. His cheeks were completely covered in the new grey skin and it was slowly approaching his mouth and nose from both sides. Some splotches were also appearing on his chest and back, something he noticed while showering in the morning. He smiled at the doctor as sweat dripped down his forehead “I’ve been feeling kinda hot lately thought”

“Hot?” the doctor asked as he cleaned Ash’s arm, before jabbing a needle inside

“Agh. Yeah” Ash grunted “Been sweating a lot, and the fan only helped so much”

“Guess that explains the lack of jacket and shoes” Davidson said with a smile as he began drawing blood. Ash giggled and wiggled his toes, ignoring the newly appeared grey splotches on them

“Yeah. It was just too hot to keep them on” Ash said with a shrug

“I see” Davidson said as he took out the needle and grabbed a light, shining it in Ash’s eyes “Anything else?”

“Um...yeah” Ash said, nodding slightly “I’ve been really…. Impatient, I think is the right word?”

“How so?”

“Well, I can’t sit still” Ash said “I have to be moving all the time, walking around, or throwing the pillow or something! I-I just can’t sit down and watch TV! I-I need to be doing something!”

“I see….” the doctor muttered, putting away his tools and grabbing a clipboard, handing it to Ash

“What’s this?” Ash asked, looking at the doctor in confusion, especially after he slid a pair of headphones onto the clipboard.

“New test we’re doing” Davidson said with a smile “Just answer the questions. There’s a couple of auditory questions so thats what those are for”

“Alright….” Ash muttered, slipping the headphones on. The moment they did, the world around him went quiet, and all he heard was a soft buzzing. He blinked as the buzzing grew louder and louder, but never too loud. It was a constant background thing, but it wasn’t enough to distract him as he started answering the questions.

What type is immune to Ground Type attacks?

“Seriously?” Ash muttered as he answered the easy question. The next one was just as easy, as was the next and the next.

As he answered them, Ash felt himself falling into a bit of a trance, the only thing he could focus on the paper and the relaxing hum in his ears.

He was snapped out of it when Davidson tapped on the board. He blinked and looked up, a small smile on his face as he slipped the headphone off “S-Sorry bout that, sir” Ash blinked at that. He didn't mean to call them doctor that, but it just felt right

“Heh, it’s no issue” Davidson said with a smile “How do you feel?”

“Huh?”

“Do you feel any different? More energized? Tired?” Davidson clarified

“W-Well now that you mention it, sir,” Ash said, again adding sir without realizing it “I do have a bit of a headache…”

“I see” Davidson muttered, looking at the chart “Score of 102 on first test….”

“Score? I didn’t realise I was being graded sir” Ash said

“Heh, its not a grade Ash, relax,” Davidson said as there was a knock on the door “Ah perfect timing!”

“Huh? What do you mean sir?” the raven-haired patient asked as the doctor got to his feet and opened the door. One of the many nurses smiled at him and rolled inside a big box. She set it down in front of Ash’s bed and left without a word. “What’s that?”

“This” Davidson said with a smile as he opened the box and reached inside. A second later he pulled out, with clear effort on his part, a small dumbbell.

“Weights?” Ash asked as Davidson put it back in the box, clearly tired

“Yeah,” he said with a smile, “You said you had a lot of energy. Thought this would be a good way to burn it”

“Huh” Ash muttered, walking over to the box and peeking inside. There was an entire workout set, with handbells, large dumbbells, and other equipment like that. He grabbed one of them and slowly lifted it, a smile forming on his face as he did so “Thank you sir. I think these will work great!”

“Glad to hear it,” Davidson said as he wheeled the cart out “I’ll see you in a few days for the next batch of tests”

“Alright,” Ash said with a smile, focusing on lifting more and more.

==================

One Week Later

“37...38...39...40” Ash grunted as he lifted the huge weight over his head, sweat pouring down his forehead as he did so. This had pretty much become routine for him ever since Doctor Davidson gifted him the set. He’d get up, eat the breakfast the nurses brought him then he’d go right onto working out.

“41” he said with a smile as he felt his muscles ache. There was something about that sensation that sent shivers of pleasure down his spine, and through other parts of him as well. It redoubled his efforts to keep going as much as he could “42...43...44…45” he chanted as he kept going, pumping the giant bit of iron faster and faster.

It had been a few days since the Doctor last visited him with updates on his condition, but Ash found it hard to care about that. All that sciencey crap the doc talked about went over his head, so in the end he just started to tune him out until he was asked something.

“56…..57…..58” he grunted, sweat pouring down his back as he shifted positions slightly. His body had undergone more and more changes in the past week as well. The few grey splotches he had before were now most of his body. Almost every inch of his skin was the grey color, with only a few bits of pale skin remaining. Where a week ago they were twigs, now they were about twice as thick as they used to be. His torso and legs were changing as well, growing at an incredible rate that would have made anyone ask if he was taking steroids.

“88….89….90” he grunted as he kept going, moving his legs slightly to adjust his pants, which were the only bit of clothes he bothered to wear at this point. He felt so damn hot if he wore so much as his hat, so he ditched it, along with his shirt and gloves. Not that he minded, meant it was easier to lift “97….98...99….100!” he cried with a big smile as he let go of the dumbbell, which clattered onto the floor “FUCK YES!” he shouted, flexing his arms and grinning at the muscles he had.

“I see your doing quite well” a familiar voice said behind him. Ash turned around and smiled as he saw Doctor Davidson walking inside, cart in hand once again

“Heh, yes” Ash said with a chuckle as he sat down on the floor in front of the doctor.

“Good boy Ash. Great to see your working out that nervous energy” Davidson praised him, which again sent shivers of pleasure up his body

“T-Thank you, sir!” Ash said, a dumb smile on his face as he looked up at the doctor. Davidson just smiled and began doing his blood test. Ash didn’t even feel the needle this time, his body was just aching to get back to work

“Well, I have some news for you Ash,” the Doctor said “I’m afraid we haven’t made much headway into finding a cure”

“Oh” Ash muttered, clearly not interested “Ok, that sucks sir”

“I see,” Davidson said as he removed the needle “Well, I do have an idea for another treatment”

“Yeah? What would that be, sir?” the transforming young man asked, as the Doctor handed him the clipboard and headphones

“Finish your tests then I’ll tell you,” the Doctor said with a smile

“Fine…” Ash grumbled as he put the headphones on, smiling as he heard the familiar humming fill his ears. He looked down at the test and started reading it.

What is the first pokemon on the Pokedex?

“Why the hell would I care about that?” Ash muttered, writing down some random nonsense before looking at the next one

What is the strongest Fighting Type move?

He grinned at that one “At least some of these are about important stuff” he said as he happily wrote the answer down. That’s how it went for most of the questions, most of them either ignored or answered with whatever he wanted to, with a specific few answered right.

Davidson removed the headphones from him a minute after he finished, snapping him out of the trance he always fell into when doing these.

“Thank you,” the doctor said as he read over the results “Right….. Score is 75…...all correct questions regarding fighting type pokemon or moves…..”

“Everything ok sir?” Ash asked, his body twitching as he wanted to get back to it

“Oh yes, everything is alright,” Davidson said with his usual friendly smile “Actually this is just what I was hoping to see”

“Huh? What do you mean sir?”

“Simple. These results tell me that you are in perfect shape for that new treatment I mentioned earlier. Its a sort of, physical therapy that will help your body process the virus faster”

“Physical?” Ash asked, his eyes going wide as he suddenly got interested

“Indeed. Though it will take a few days to set up, so you just keep going as usual” he said as he wheeled the cart out of the room.

“Got it!” Ash said with a smile, jumping to his feet and reaching down for his weights, until he noticed something “Huh, since when have I got red streaks on my arms?” he muttered, running his finger over it. Feeling nothing, he shrugged and grabbed his weights “The doc will fix em, so no need to stress over it” he said as he got in position, a smirk on his face “Think I’ll for 250 this time….”

==================

Four Days Later

Ash paced around his room, shivering in anticipation.

The doctor had told him earlier during a quick check that everything was set up and ready for his physical therapy and that he had very high hopes that it would finish the process of dealing with the virus.

At this point, Ash was starting to get a little worried again. Those weird red marks on his arm had grown down to his wrists and now they were on both of them. His face had also started feeling really weird as if someone had been repeatedly punching him in the face and then pulled on it, plus the heat issue had gotten even worse. While he didn’t mind just wearing his pants, running around in only a black speedo he had to ask for since a nurse stole his boxers felt a bit more demeaning than jeans, and on top of that, yesterday he had woken up to his pillow full of hair.

He’d asked to see Doctor Davidson and ask him for the most thorough exam he’d done yet, and the man had been happy to oblige. For two hours, he ran every test he had on Ash, some of them more than once. While he couldn’t explain these weird sensations, he did get Ash to calm down and explained that all of these problems could be solved by the therapy. Which was part of the reason he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for the doctor to come. Another reason was all the pent-up energy. He’d already done 400 reps with his weights and it didn’t do anything, and it was driving him bonkers.

Soon, however, his salvation came. Doctor Davidson opened the door to his room with a smile “I see your up bright and early”

“Heh, yeah guess I am sir” Ash muttered as he looked at the man. Unlike every other time he’d seen him, Davidson wasn’t wearing a lab coat over jeans. He was wearing a black outfit with grey boots and gloves that seemed kinda familiar, but Ash didn’t dwell on it. He just wanted to get out of this room and get this thing started.

“Right, then follow me” the doctor said, leaving the room, Ash happily following behind. The trek through the hospital was surprisngly quiet, as there weren’t any others in their way, and the few rooms Ash could see into seemed to be empty.

“Where is everyone?” Ash asked

“Remember this is long-term care, Ash” Davidson said calmly “Your the only patient we’ve had here. Now, be a good boy and don’t think about it”

“Yes sir,” Ash said out sheer reflex, shivers running up his body as he was referred to like that. Any thought he had about the strange emptiness evaporated from his head. After another minute of walking in silence, the two reached a large steel door.

“Right Ash, your treatment starts the moment we enter in here” Davidson said “But for it to work you have to be a good boy and do exactly as I say, without question. If you hesitate or question my orders once, then the whole thing fails and we won’t get another shot at it. Understand?”

“Y-Yes sir,” Ash said, shivering as he was reffered to like that again.

Davidson nodded and opened the doors with a strong push “Head to the center” he ordered as he walked to the left. Ash nodded and walked inside, looking around the room as he did so.

It was a huge place, a big square arena-looking place with a gravel floor that made Ash feel a bit weird as he stepped on it. Large spotlights shone down on him, but there wasn’t anyone watching, since there were no stands.

He reached the spot that Davidson told him and he stopped. Glancing back, he saw that the Doctor was standing on a slightly raised podium.

“Eyes front” he ordered “Don’t ever look at me”

“Yes sir!” Ash cried, doing as he was told instantly. A big door opposite to him opened and out walked a Kadabra. Ash frowned as he saw the pokemon take the spot opposite to him “Am I fighting a pokemon sir? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Trust me Ash, this is exactly what you need. Now be a good boy and don’t talk anymore” Davidson said. Ash shivered at the order and nodded, keeping his mouth closed until told otherwise.

He stared the Kadabra down for a minute before a loud bang rang out and the opponent wasted no time, blasting out a Psy-Beam.

“Dodge it” Davidson called out, and Ash reacted by sheer instinct, jumping to his left and letting the attack hit the dirt “Now hit him with a Double Jab”

Ash frowned at the term the doctor used, but he did as he was told. He ran up to the Kadabara at a speed he didn’t think he had and smacked him in the face, twice.

“Now triple kick him!” Davidson ordered and Ash delivered. He swung his feet at the Kadabra’s stomach, connecting with two of the three before the opponent jumped back to dodge the last one.

Ash panted as he stood there, muscles aching. It felt strangely good to be in this fight, despite knowing this shouldn’t be happening.

“Dodge!” came an order from Davidson. Ash looked up and saw the enemy pokemon charging at him, his fist coated in hard ice. Before he could move out of the way, the attack made contact and knocked the wind out of him, the ice shattering upon impact.

“GAH!” Ash gasped as he fell to his knees, panting. The Kadabra stood over him as the pieces of the Ice Punch fell around him, spoon in hand ready to end this.

“Vital Throw!” Davidson shouted. Ash didn’t even think this time, lurching forwards and grabbing the Kadabara and throwing him with all his strength to the other side of the room. A large cloud of gravel shot up where it landed, and it didn’t get back up.

“Heh, well done Ash,” Davison said from behind. Ash chuckled and flexed his arms, pride swelling over his body. That was broken when he felt something cold touch his toes. Frowning, he looked down, seeing that the shards of the ice punch had melted into a reflective puddle of water.

“Oh great, I’m gonna have to-” Ash’s words died in his throat as he finally, after two weeks, got a look at his reflection. Suddenly, the strange pains he felt on his face, the hair loss, the heat in his body, all made sense.

Staring back at him wasn’t a young man with a strange skin condition, but a large muscular pokemon with a snout and three ridges on its bald head. A pokemon that was known for being obsessed with working out, like he had been obsessed for days.

He wasn’t human anymore, and he’d probably hadn’t been for days now.

He was a Machoke.

“Oh dear,” Davidson said, as he walked closer “I was hoping to avoid this time”

“W-What did you do-”

“Kadabra, psychic!” Davidson shouted. Ash felt his body seize up and stop moving, as it glowed a soft cyan. “Did you really think you knocked a Kadabra with a measly Vital throw? It threw the fight like it was told to”

“W-What…” Ash managed to stammer out

“What did I do? Heh, well I infected you” Davidson said with a smile “See when you and that annoying rat of yours got lost and headed for that cave? That cave happens to be the underside of this facility”

“F-Facility?” Ash stammered out, only for the grip of the Kadabara to get tighter

“Yes, facility. A Team Rocket Facility to be exact” Davidson said, showing the R on his uniform that Ash had missed earlier “What did you think you were really at a hospital? HA!”

Ash growled, but the doctor wasn’t done yet

“See when I saw you enter that cave, I had the perfect idea to get rid of one of Team Rocket’s biggest pains and get ourselves a nice new mon to sell at the same time” he smirked “This facility has been studying a strain of Pokerus that infects humans and slowly turns them into pokemon. And something I’ve discovered is that these pokemon are a lot stronger than regular one” he laughed “Oh I’ve got orders for a big strong Machoke coming in from all over. And you just proved that you are ready”

“N-Not….Gonna…..obey” Ash grunted out, giving him a glare

“Oh you see, you will. What did you think all those tests were for?” Davidson smirked “See, I’ve been slowly conditioning you into the mindset of a perfect Machoke. Big dumb brute who cares about his muscles more than anything”

Ash’s face went red as he realized he’d been playing into his hands

“And there is one trigger left,” Davidson said as he approached the Fighting-type with a golden belt in hand. Without another word, he slipped onto Ash’s waist and clicked it.

It was like Ash got electrocuted, waves of pleasure rang over his entire body as the belt got into a snug position. His brain felt like it was being bombarded from all over by the stimuli.

“W-What arecho doike” the young man turned pokemon stammered out, his eyes going wide as he realized his speech was messing up “Stomachoke!”

“Don’t bother, this has been going on for a long long time now. You can’t fight it” Davidson said

“Y-Yes I cachoke!” he gasped out, shivering as he felt more pleasure

“Oh really? I think at this point you probably can’t even remember your name!”

As….As…..A…...Machoke gasped as he felt his brain start to fizzle, realizing Davidson was right. He moaned and shivered as more of the pleasure rang up his body, through his shifting brain and down to his large member, making it instantly stiff. He moaned as more and more energy bombarded him, each time a memory going pop and his arousal increasing even more.

“Tell me, how do you feel?” Davidson asked with a smile, as he saw the straining shorts of the pokemon in front of him.

“F-Fee...Fek..Machoke!” he gasped out, as another wave of pleasure surged through his body, human speech being wiped clean from his shrinking brain “Ma! Machoke mac!” he moaned as he felt the grip of the psychic let go at long last as his dick finally exploded, blasting out all the contents that once used to be in his head, into nothing more than a big stain on the front of his shorts. He fell to his knees and moaned again, his brown eyes turning a bright ruby red as any trace of Ash Ketchum was erased, leaving only a dumb, horny fighting type pokemon.

He blinked and looked at the human in front of him. Machoke thought he’d the human’s name, but it was fading away….. Who was he looking at? This human felt important for some reason, but the Fighting Type couldn’t figure it out.

“Heh, look at you,” the human said, waving his hand in front of Machoke’s face “There’s nothing behind those eyes is there?”

“Ma?” the pokemon asked, not understanding what the human was saying at all

“Hmm, that’s a small problem. Don’t think many gyms will pay for a pokemon too dumb to obey commands” the human said more of the strange babble that Machoke couldn’t wrap his head around. The human looked down at Machoke’s shorts and grinned

“Choke?” the pokemon asked, confused why the human cared so much about that

“Heh, I think I know where to send you,” he said as he pulled something from his belt “There’s a ranch in Alola that’s been desperate for some Fighting Type breeding stock” he smirked “Bye-bye Machoke. I think you’ll like where you are going”

Before the fighting type could even think what the human was saying, he felt something tap him on the nose. He glanced up to see a black and white ball open up, a flash of red light, and everything went black.

==================

Two Months Later

Machoke moaned as he felt his ass being pounded again, this time by Scrafty who had just been brought it.

“Ma! Choke!” he moaned, his tongue hanging out his mouth as he felt the fighting type pull out, leaving him on his stomach in the muddy ground of the Nursery.

“Holy crap” he heard one of the human handlers say as they walked up to him “You're really something else Machoke”

“Ma!” he said with a smirk, despite not understanding what they said, he knew praise when he heard it

“Heh, good boy” the attendant patted his head and gave him a few berries “Here, fuel up. We’ve got a few more trainers coming by who want to have their fighting types let out some aggression. And who knows, you may get a girl this time” he winked at Machoke as he stood up

“That Machoke might be the single greatest purchase I have ever made while owning this place” another human, this one female said. Machoke shivered as he felt his butt and legs being hosed down with cold water, wiping away the remains of his previous fun. “I have been getting twice as more business out of wannabe breeders alone”

“Yeah, and the other pokemon really like having him around,” the first human said “Never seen so many male pokemon having….intimate times together”

“Heh, it happens, trust me,” the other human said, Machoke gasping as he felt his speedo being shoved back into place “Pokemon like this are a godsdamn blessing. Too dumb to do anything but fuck”

“Hey don’t be mean to him”

“Mean? Look at him! He probably can’t understand us” the second human said “Mons like him only care bout three things. Fucking, resting, and showing off. But you know what, as long as he brings in business I don’t give a shit!”

“Heh right on!” the first one said, walking off with his partner. Machoke just shrugged and grabbed his berries, shoving them down his gullet as he rested after his time with Scrafty, a dumb smile on his face.

This was a good life.

==================

If you enjoyed this fic, please check out my Patreon to support me if you can. And a shout-out to my top-tier Patrons, Jerry Nelson and Vikitren!

#pokemon #pokemon fanfiction #brainwashing #transformation #slow burn #hypnosis

1 note · View note

whatanoof · 3 years

Text

A Push in the Right Direction

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader

Word Count: ~7.6k

Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, sexual tension, rough sex, sex pollen so by default it's dubcon, pining

Summary: Healing injured patients? Psh, easy stuff. Force healing? A little more tricky. Confessing your crush to your very close friend? Damn near impossible until a flower bush shoves you in the right direction.

A/N: Happy birthday my friend @marvelassassin221b!! I hope you are staying safe, and that your birthday will bring happiness and wisdom to your life. It's been a blessing talking to you and laughing at memes together <3 Thank you for giving me the push to get this fic done and posted, I couldn't have done it without you. Enjoy some of our favorite redhead Jedi ;)

You’ve always been terrible with directions. Like, it’s a miracle you haven’t gotten lost in more dangerous settings, but even your Jedi Master used to shake their head when you had survival exercises in your Padawan years. Greez too, makes comments about how atrocious you are at navigation. You hadn’t been allowed back to the holomap since a disastrous set of directions landed the Mantis on the more unfriendly side of the Outer Rim.

But even with all of your shortcomings at mapping, you have a solid crisis mode. You need to have one as a medic. It’s not a good idea to freeze when a patient is bleeding out on the ground in front of you, there is only one way that is going to end, and it’s not going to be a happy ending. Under pressure, all of the unsureness that surfaces during your attempts at navigation vanishes, and your body is moving before your mind even consciously thinks to. It’s your zen mode, almost your place of meditation, where you give into the inner instinct and allow the Force to guide you through the process. Too bad you can’t reach that state in any situation other than emergencies, maybe you would be able to navigate your moves in confessing a crush.

You had met Cal Kestis on Bracca. He’d cut his hand open on a jagged edge of wall paneling, and Prauf brought him to you, one of the few healers among the scrappers. You couldn’t tell what exactly it was that gave him away to you, but the instant his eyes met yours, you knew where he had come from.

Of course, you waited until Prauf had gone back to work to reveal yourself. Healing through the Force decreases the chance of infection, is painless, and is essentially instantaneous. While your normal supplies would have done the trick, the drama queen in you realized this would be the perfect way to show Cal he wasn’t alone. Force healing is tricky, but you’d had a surprising knack for it ever since your youngling years. The Order had trained you up in the way of Force healing and given you the tools to take advantage of your aptitudes. Cal’s face had been priceless when you simply waved your hand over his, and the wound closed within seconds.

There was a certain comfort in knowing you weren’t alone. Admittedly, in the long years after the Purge, you’d toyed with the idea that you had been the only Jedi to escape. Those had been dark days, where you could barely scrape together the energy to forage for food and water, laughing that the Jedi Order would die with a single Padawan who had lost her lightsaber along with everything she had known.

But then Cal stumbled into your little cordoned off area. You’d become close friends from that moment to the day Prauf died and the Ninth Sister shoved you both off of the cliff and onto the freight train below. The Mantis crew was surprised, to say the least. They had gotten reports of a single Jedi wreaking havoc on Bracca. But they welcomed you aboard and you had become the team medic, patching up Cal when he got back from missions and finding time in between to try and recover the Force abilities you had lost to time.

---

“Hey.” You look up from your work. Medical supplies lie strewn across the floor of your part of the room, bandages unwound and your meager supply of medication stacked methodically in the corner.

Cal looks down at you from the doorway, a streak of something across his cheekbone. You want to wipe it off, but you just smile back, “Welcome back. Find anything cool?”

His happy grin only widens, “You’ll have to come and find out.”

“What?”

He beckons you towards the main hull, “Come on!”

Cere and Greez are already there and seated around the meal table, and BD is perched on the table, chirruping animatedly as if talking to Cere. You take your place with them, noting the empty chair to your right. Merrin is back on Dathomir, searching for ancient texts about Nightsister magic and rituals. She’s been gone for several days, but you still find yourself seeking out her snarky comments and cool confidence.

“Okay.” Cal stands at the head of the table, rubbing his hands together in a way that makes him seem as if he is playing the adult. “I’m willing to bet you're all wondering why I’ve called you here today…”

“Spit it out Cal, you woke me up from a nap for this.” Greez eyes the redhead grumpily, and you fight to hide a grin. Cere also looks mildly amused, if slightly impatient.

Cal rolls his eyes, but continues, “Cordova left a message, saying something very valuable to our quest is locked in a vault in the Zeffo caves. I found the vault today and it matches Cordova’s description, but we need two Force users to access it.” He nudges BD, and the little droid projects an image of the vault door. It’s massive, with gold decorations swirling across it, and two obvious indents in the ground on either side for said Force users.

Everyone’s gazes flit to Merrin’s empty chair. It’s without question she would have been the best fit for this mission. Her combat style complements Cal’s perfectly, and Cere is still hesitant to use the Force.

Realization strikes you, and you glance up to see everyone’s eyes are now trained on you. You begin to shake your head. “That’s a bad idea--”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll lead us directly to the vault. I have my saber, and you have your Force healing. Worst case scenario, you have to patch me up in the field.” That is definitely not the worst case scenario, but there are no other options. This mission is time-sensitive, and you can’t wait for Merrin to get back from Dathomir.

You fix him with a stern glare. “I will come. But--” You hold up a hand when Cal opens his mouth. “You have to stick with me. No disappearing and popping out to scare me, because I will get lost We go in, and we get out.“

“I wouldn--” Cal protests.

“You would.” You snap.

“Yeah, he would.” Cere agrees.

“Sounds like something you would do.” Greez nods.

BD beeps cheerily from its place in the center of the table, clearly in agreement with you.

Cal shuts his mouth with an audible pop, and you cross your arms while staring him down. Yes he would.

“I need BD back here on the ship. I’m running diagnostics on the navigation programming, and I can’t do it alone.” Cere speaks up.

Cal hesitates. You understand; he never goes on missions without BD. The two are a package deal, but everything needs to be running at peak efficiency before you go to the Fort Inquisitorius. And there’s no way you’re willing to deal with a navigation error en route.

You speak up, “Yeah, it will be fine.”

Cal looks at you, “We need BD to unlock a shortcut. What happened to in and out?”

You wave him off, “We’ll take the scenic route. Cere needs BD back here, and we can manage without. We’ll have our comm units, it will be fine.”

---

Do you know that saying, “Famous last words?”

Yeah. You hadn’t realized just how famous those last words could be. It started when Cal realized he’d left his comm unit on the ship in the charging port. But it was fine, because you had yours. Until you dropped it into a puddle after tripping over a tree root.

The scenic route involved passing through the outskirts of a forest, and the terrain was a little trickier than you had been prepared to handle, obviously. So, commless and armed with a single lightsaber and two shared brain cells, you travel towards the entrance to the Zeffo caves.

A flower bush catches your eye. Its leaves are a shocking shade of red, with gorgeous blue flowers that seem to call you over to them. Cal keeps walking even as you stop and reach for the bush. You pluck the flower in the fullest bloom and turn it over in your hand, admiring the veins of deeper azure spider webbing across the petals.

Cal says your name behind you, “We have to keep moving if we’re going to get back before dark.”

Turning to face your companion, you tuck the blossom behind his ear and step back to admire how the blue contrasts against his hair. The word slips out almost without you noticing. “Cute.”

It’s almost comical how quickly his face blooms red. “Guh--”

“It’s a good look.” You reassure him quickly. “Adorable. Pretty. Cute.”

“--Thanks!” He ducks past you to the bush. “I’m just going to grab a seedling for Greez. He’ll like this one.” Cal grabs one of the large pods and breaks it open, removing a seed and sticking it into the pouch on his harness. “Okay, ready.”

But you’re distracted by the red pollen that explodes in a cloud around his head, dusting him with a fine mist that leaves scarlet traces on his face and shoulders. “What’s that?” You step forward and run a finger across Cal’s poncho, collecting the dust and rubbing it between your fingertips. You hesitate, then raise your hand to your face to smell the substance. The sickly sweet scent and underlying current of spicy musk sticks in your lungs. The back of your throat tickles, and you sneeze.

An echoing sneeze draws your attention. Cal leans against the flowering bush, one arm clamped over his nose as he sneezes over and over again. He glances up at you, coughing with watery eyes, “Wha--”

A spike of dread pierces through you. ‘Stars, was it poison?’ He won’t stop coughing, a dry rattle as his body tries in vain to purge the intruding red dust. You fall to your knees beside him. Panic fills your mind, blotting out logic and reason and you place your hands on his body, intent on Force healing him even though you don’t know what is wrong with him. Then, just as suddenly as the coughing started, it stops and silence rings through the trees.

“Cal!”

You're shoving your hand underneath his poncho in an instant to feel for his heartbeat. You hold your breath. You can’t feel a pulse. You scramble to rip his poncho off completely, dragging it over his limp shoulders and head. You shove your fingers against his throat again. There!

His heartbeat flutters delicately, beating a rapid tattoo against your fingertips. You allow yourself to breath. He’s alive. But his pulse is fast, too fast. You rip open his tunic, though you’re not entirely certain what it is you’re searching for.

Just as your fingers brush over his skin, Cal bolts upright with a gasp. “Wh-- where...?”

You swear you almost pass out from the relief that slaps you across the face. “Stars, I thought you were dead. I’m so sorry about the flower bu-- mmm!”

Cal smashes his lips onto yours, pushing you onto your back with the sheer force of the kiss. His tongue dips into your mouth, searching and probing and damnit you can’t breathe when he’s this close to you, this desperate. His hips jerk against yours with an unpracticed, aborted motion, dragging a very prominent erection against your body that makes you jerk back in surprise.

You push him away from him for a second, propping yourself up on your elbows as you search his face for some indication of… you don’t know what. But this isn’t like him. “Cal, what--?”

“Need you.” He groans, his hands roaming over your body without fear or shame and inspiring a wave of pleasure as he squeezes your breasts. “Maker, you feel so good. Smell so good.” You bite back a moan. This really isn’t the time, not in the middle of an Imperial occupied forest. But to be completely honest, he feels really good too.

You’d imagined this before. Well, not these exact circumstances, but the idea of being under Cal. You’d imagined the feeling of his hands scraping over your skin and squeezing your body wherever he would like. You’d imagined his lips on yours, and other places for sure. But you’d really only ever been able to envision Cal as a gentle lover, all quiet moans and hesitant movements and unsure expressions. But this rougher side? You moan raggedly against Cal’s mouth as he shoves a thigh between your legs, rubbing up against your clothed sex. This is amazing.

Streaks of heat flash through your body, converging between your legs. Everything is amplified, the sounds around you, the grass beneath your knees, the blueness of the sky overhead. But it all seems to pale when your attention lands on Cal, who’s more flushed than earlier. You feel the heat beneath your skin too, but he’s got to have it worse right now, because you’re not the one sweating like you’re stranded on a desert planet. Maker, the pollen was some kind of--

His name escapes your lips in a tiny whisper that morphs into a moan halfway through. You allow your head to fall back, and it thunks against the spongy moss across the ground, knocking you back to the present. Cal’s lost in you, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he ruts weakly against your thigh.

You shake off the haze clouding your mind, crisis mode kicking into full gear. You have no comms, one horny Jedi, and a completely hopeless sense of direction. “Cal. We have to move.”

He whines high in the back of his throat. “No.” It’s almost pleading, but there is an undercurrent of steel that makes you pause.

“Cal. We’re out in the open. Troopers co-- could--” Stars, you can feel the lust pumping under your skin, so close to the surface that it could burst out at any second. But fear hovers on the edge of your mind, pressing in and suppressing the need to jump Cal and reminding you of the certain torture and death that would occur if you were caught.

Cal doesn’t seem to have any of the same restraints as you. His fingers are carding through your hair, “Just wanna feel you. Maybe more.” His teeth latch into your neck, and the dull pain pierces through the haze more firmly.

He got dosed more heavily with the pollen. You resist the urge to curse as you gently detangle from Cal and sit up, biting back a sigh of relief as his teeth leave your skin. “We have to find shelter.” You begin to look around, but all you can see is the forest. You need something better, a place where you can figure out what exactly is wrong with Cal. You try to stand.

“Noooo…” This isn’t going to work. You actually do curse this time. How are you supposed to find effective shelter while dragging a full grown man around hostile territory without compromising stealth, all while your libido is cottoning to the edge of your mind, clouding your judgment?

“Come here…” Cal’s arm wraps around your neck, dragging you back down to the ground even as you try to stand. Okay that’s enough.

“You’ll forgive me later, Cal.” You press your thumb to his forehead and concentrate. His skin is dry and burning to your touch, and your brow scrunches. That’s going to be an issue. You reach to tap into the Force, but you pause. Your Force connection is… foggy. That’s the only way you can describe it in words, but it’s muted and dimmer than usual.

Your Jedi Master taught you a metaphor for using the Force: a barrier exists between you and access to the Force. It’s a wall, and your mind must become like a sharpened sword to pierce through and reach the Force. You can feel the barrier, just as always, but it’s like a second layer exists around it. If the normal barrier is made of thin glass, the new layer is crafted from paper; it’s strange, and thicker than usual, but still easily pierced with extra… force if you can say that without making yourself laugh at the pun. You summon the strength and press your mental sword forward through the barrier.

Rest. Cal’s eyes roll back in his head and he falls asleep with a gentle exhale. He relaxes against you, and you relax in turn when you see the pained lines smooth out of his forehead. Jedi healing includes your own personal anesthesia on demand. It will keep him under for a little bit, though you can’t tell what kind of effect the pollen will have on the Force sleep.

Through some feat of the stars themselves, you struggle to your feet. Cal’s arm is looped around your neck, and you want nothing more than to just sink down to the ground again and give into the weakness and lust pulling at your legs, coaxing you to collapse and take your pleasure. And stars, Cal’s heavier than you expected him to be.

But you shake yourself awake. Can’t get distracted. You glance at Cal’s drooping head. He’s been strong for you this entire time. The least you can do is be strong now and find some shelter. But where?

Voices filter through the trees, and your head jerks up towards the sources.

“Yeah, she told me to take the bucket off, or she would charge the full payment and…” Stormtroopers. Kriffing hell.

“Come on.” You hiss underneath your breath. You gather your legs underneath your body and push. Your muscles scream in pain, but they ultimately obey and you stumble to your feet and begin to move away from the approaching voices. Cal is dead weight over your shoulders, pulling and urging you to rest. It would be so easy to give in, to sink back to the ground and let Cal do what he wants.

The trees blur together as you move through the forest. The stormtroopers’ voices are getting louder and you grit your teeth. You don’t know their patrol route. How are you going to avoid them? All you can do is place one foot in front of the other. Then the mossy ground turns to stone underneath your feet, and you slow. Caves. Perfect.

You hurry inside, fatigued legs forgotten in your relief. There’s a bend directly beyond the mouth of the cave, and you gently lay Cal against the wall. You’re completely hidden from anyone looking from the entrance. You sit opposite him, your head falling forward to sag against your chest. Now what?

Your comm unit is busted, and Cal’s is sitting back on the Mantis, so you can’t contact the crew. You hold a hand to Cal’s forehead. His temperature is getting worse. You don’t know what infected him, so your Force healing is out of the question. The only bright spot is you’re pretty sure the stormtroopers won’t find you. They’re not exactly recruited for their brains, and you’ll be able to sense their muted Force signatures if they get close.

Speaking of…

You trail off, contemplating Cal’s unconscious face. His head sags against the rock wall and there’s a line of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth. His brow is finally relaxed, his breathing deep and even and it strikes you that this is the most peaceful you’ve ever seen him.

You reach out through the Force. It has become a habit for you, Merrin, and Cal to find peace in each others’ Force signature. Whether nightmares or difficult missions, the others would be there as a silent comfort.

Merrin’s is a mixture of whites and creams swirling against a dark maroon background. When she uses her Force magic, there is an unmistakable green tinge through it. Hers is powerful, with a sense of underlying safety in her strength. True to form, Merrin has been a protector figure in the Mantis.

But Cal’s is more diverse, a blend of warm colors against a grey background with blue tinging the edge. But while the colors are chaotic, Cal keeps a firm hold on his Force presence at all times, never allowing it to surge violently from emotion. He does not suppress it completely anymore, but you know he has the ability to make it nearly disappear from the senses of another Force user. You should know, because you can do the same. Merrin grew up without fear of having to hide her Force sensitivity, but you and Cal survived the Purge. You both have firm grasps of your thoughts and emotions projected through the Force. So in Cal, you found a kindred spirit that understands you better than almost any other person in the galaxy could. You’ve become more familiar with his presence than even your Master’s before the Purge.

But now, your brow furrows as you search for his Force presence over and over, pushing into every crevice of the surrounding environment without violating his privacy. You’re not mistaken. It’s gone, almost as if he has been turned into a droid before your eyes. Every living thing has a Force presence, no matter how minute. But Cal’s comforting whirl of light is gone, vanished as though he is no longer connected to the--

Cal’s eyes fly open and he sits forward with a quiet gasp. You jump. It’s worn off then. You secure his body with the Force, holding him loosely so as not to cause any lasting damage. You would have to tackle the Force connection problems later.

“I need you to focus.” He pushes against the bonds with a whimper, and you bite your lip as you struggle to hold him still.

“Cal!” Your Force bind tightens, and he stills with a grunt. “Talk to me. Fight through it.”

He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut. “Hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Every-- ah! Everything. Can’t-- can’t th-think. Only thing-- makes it better… you.”

What? Your concentration lapses and the bonds loose. He lunges forward and buries his nose into your neck again, inhaling you as his hands scrabble at your clothes. “Hurts less with you. Smell so good--soft. Please?”

Stars, you can’t think straight with him touching you like this. You bite back a moan as his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your shirt. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to give in. Just for a little. Indulge, and then you can figure out a way back to the Mantis. Then Cal raises your shirt and licks a long stripe up your neck, and that’s all the convincing you need.

You melt into his mouth, your hands running under his shirt and harness. His chest is just as feverishly hot as his forehead, but you can’t bring yourself to care when he swings a leg over yours so he’s hovering over you, knees planted on either side of your body. His hands shove your shirt over your head before setting to work on the button of your pants. You raise your hips to allow him to pull your pants under your butt. Your own hands yank at his clothes, silently begging him to strip with you.

But he doesn’t. He kneels between your legs and pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your wet folds.

“Cal--!” You’re cut off as he drags his tongue over your pussy, flicking against your clit at the end. Your stomach muscles contract, and it’s all you can do to keep quiet as he licks deep into your core.

---

The world is blurred. It’s like something crawled into his head and messed with his brain, dragging his focus away from more important issues… he can’t seem to remember right now. He can’t even feel the Force. His connection is compromised, the colors of the world are off, and there’s this bone deep ache within his body urging him closer to you. And as he’s drinking in your taste, the pain subsides and he can breathe again.

What is this? What’s happening to him? It has to be the pollen, it has to be its effect on his body, that’s why he’s lost all control over his mind and self. It’s why he can’t hold himself back from your body and you.

You’re all he can focus on; you’re so beautiful writhing under him as he tastes you. He’s never done this before. He can’t figure out why he hasn’t done this sooner, because you taste amazing right now and how you sound as he slides his tongue through your folds is doing things to him that he’s never experienced before.

His hips are dragging against the floor unintentionally. The friction of his dick against the rough material of his pants is a small slice of heaven, and he whimpers at the pure electricity spreading down his spine. He doesn’t want this to end so soon, but his body is shoving him towards the edge of release and the relief he knows is going to come with it.

---

A moan keens high in the back of your throat as Cal’s mouth presses against your soaked core. It’s sloppy and clumsy, but Maker if he doesn’t make up for it with enthusiasm. The only sounds coming from him are tiny moans and grunts and you shudder as his fingers dig into the pillowy flesh of your thighs, leveraging them apart and holding them there firmly. Of their own will, your hips roll up into his face, chasing after his touch.

You’re completely unprepared for Cal to growl when you do so. His grip tightens, and you squeak as your thighs are spread even farther apart and his mouth completely envelopes your clit.

Is this what heaven feels like? You can barely manage coherent thought when his tongue is devastating you like this, but thequestion rotates around your lust dumb brain as your toes curl and your back arches. Your release rushes up and sweeps you away, your core clenching as waves of pleasure wash over your body. You hear Cal whine as you cum, and you hear your own moans as you ride out your orgasm.

---

Stars, why hadn’t he done this sooner? The sounds that he’s pulling out of you right now could make him come in his pants on the spot, and the taste of your release has him rutting against the ground all the more insistently as he chases his own high.

But he doesn’t want to come in his pants, he wants to be inside of you. He wants you, your body squeezing tight around him, to feel the wetness seeping around his tongue rather than tasting it, even if it tastes divine.

He grabs your hips and yanks you down so your crotch is flush to his. He nearly loses his mind when your soaked core meets the bulge in his pants. Fuck, he thought he could wait, but he can’t.

But--something is still off with the world’s coloring. Where is the Force? The comforting pressure is gone from the back of his mind, the constant reminder of balance that keeps him in tune with his emotions and surroundings. Panic edges around the perimeter of his mind. In an act of desperation, he reaches for the Force, searching for the whispers of memories that accompany his world. They’re gone. Where did they go?

You whisper his name again, and this time his eyes meet yours.

---

You watch Cal carefully. He’s flushed, trembling as he hovers over your body, hands bare centimeters away from your skin. His eyes are desperate, and you can feel the pain in them as clearly as if it was your own. A bead of sweat tracks down his temple to soak into the collar of his harness, and he fumbles to rip the rest of his clothing off, discarding it on the floor as though it burned against his flesh.

“Cal.” He looks back at you. “Take what you need.”

It’s all the permission he needs. Relief and something else flashes through his eyes before he looks back down and fumbles with his pants fastening. His cock is flushed dark red, and his hands tremble as he pulls it out of his pants, jaw clenched as he lines up with your entrance. He slides into you with a bone-deep sigh of relief, and you cry out at the stretch. Every inch sparks pure electricity up your spine, and your eyes roll back in your head. He bottoms out, and for a heart stopping moment you feel a connection to him you couldn’t describe in words. Your hips roll against his, grinding the head of his cock up against something heavenly. Light explodes behind your eyes at the movement, arching your back and curling your toes.

Cal chokes, a beautiful sound you’ve only heard a few times before; the one that sounds like its been pulled from the deepest parts of his being, like he’s just ascended to another plane above the physical. It’s gorgeous and so insanely hot you’re completely unprepared for his sudden movement when he lunges forward.

Cal’s hand shoots out and presses against your neck, effectively pinning your upper body to the hard ground. You inhale shakily through your nose, but his grip does nothing more than hold you. You can still breathe, but the pressure on your throat sends a shock of heat between your legs with the reminder of the control you just relinquished.

“Stop that.” His other arm slams onto the stone beside your head, and your eyes lock. Cal’s pupils are blown, so dark you can almost see your reflection in the dim light of the cave as he glares down at you.

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he drags his hips away from yours, inch by painstaking inch and rocks back into your body with an easy roll of his hips. He exhales gently as he bottoms back out inside of you, a low moan rumbling out of his throat when he reaches that same depth within your heat.

It’s the eye of a storm; a hurricane you hadn’t known you’d entered. He rocks back and forth again, only there’s fractionally more force and speed to the motion this time. Again, and your body shakes with the force. Another, and you have to bite your lip to stifle the scream when he slams back into your body. It’s like the tide, coming in gradually, but more and more with each passing moment. The force swells, each thrust pushing into you a little harder and making your body shake a little more with each thrust.

A shuddering groan rumbles out of him as he finds the rhythm. The hand not pressed delicately around your throat slams down on the rock next to your head. When you look up towards the cave ceiling, Cal’s flushed skin and tousled hair fills your vision.

His hair, which is usually swept out of his eyes. Cal’s hair has always been so well cared for, usually brushed and slicked back so it doesn’t dangle in his eyes. Now, it’s soaked with sweat and falling into his face as he stares down at you like you’re the only star in the sky.

---

Take what you need? Holy stars, he can barely think enough to comprehend it, but some inner part of him aches at the sentence.

As soon as he realized his heart jumped every time you smiled at something, or that his brain short circuited at the sound of your laugh, he’d sworn he would keep it under wraps. He’d promised himself he would wait until after the galaxy finishes imploding and collapsing around your heads. The first time he’d jerked off to the idea of your body, he vowed to satisfy himself with his hand until it was safe. He’d wait until after the holocron is safe and there’s nothing to worry about, because relationships are messy and complicated and--

Fuck, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about that promise, because how can he regret being balls deep in you while you’re whining and squirming underneath him, when you look at him with such trust even as he pins you to the floor by your throat? His eyes gravitate to the mark on your neck, red and irritated with the indent of his teeth, and he feels his cock twitch even as he continues to pound into you. He likes that.

The promise didn’t keep his eyes from wandering to your face at any opportunity. It didn’t prevent the pressure in his chest from growing over the weeks and months. It definitely didn’t keep Cere and Greez from noticing, and that was a conversation he would rather have scrubbed from his mind.

Take what you need. That one sentence is spinning his world on its metaphorical finger. Take what you need. As if he didn’t want it, but he needed to do it. In all honesty, it had really felt like he was going to die. The burning in his throat that caused the coughing fit, then the racing heart and the overheating; he thought he wasn’t going to make it unless he--

Well, unless he fucked you.

But even if he needs it, he wants it even more, had wanted it for too long. But everytime an opportunity presented itself, he pulled back. He remembers how he threw away the flowers he gathered on the mission instead of bringing them back to you on the Mantis. He remembers every time he denied spending time with you, because his emotions were too raw and close to the surface, and he couldn’t predict his control over his own tongue. Because he didn’t think he could have handled it if you didn’t want him back.

But you had offered to help. Maybe you’d wanted it too, because the whole galaxy could be shoving you in one direction and you would defy it. Nothing can make you do anything you didn’t want to, and that applies to Cal Kestis too.

---

Your orgasm swells up sharp and sudden, gripping you in its claws and shoving you into the attack of muscle spasms and searing pleasure that punches into your abdomen. Your body arches, accidentally hitting your head against the ground.

Cal’s rhythm stutters and his hips jerk forward. His hand leaves your throat as he drops to his forearms. His head drops down to press against yours gently, even as he whimpers and continues to grind forward into your soaking heat.

“Fuck.” Cal gasps, eyelids fluttering rapidly. “Fuck. ‘M gonna cum.”

There’s no time to respond before he’s drawing up and tensing against you. His hips piston in and out once, then he’s cumming and all you can do is lie there and take it. Fuck that’s hot.

You can feel him spilling into you, every warm spurt of cum and every twitch of his cock as he spends himself. Even better is the drawn out groan that trails into his upper register, ending in a tiny whimper. The tension drains out of his face and he sags down, sweaty skin pressed against yours. His arms wrap around your body and he hoists your limp body up as he rolls over. He sits against the wall of the cave, seating you on his lap, cock still firmly buried inside you.

You allow your head to sag back against his shoulder, relishing in the feeling of his body pressed so closely to yours. His hand paws weakly at the fabric of your shirt, and you raise your arms to slide it off. It’s better like this, skin to skin contact seems to calm him down. He buries his nose into your bare neck and mumbles something you can’t make out.

You nudge your head against his gently, “Hm?”

“Thank you.” His lips ghost over the delicate juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Thank you thank you thank you...” He continues to mutter the phrase into your skin, tickling your skin as he nuzzles closer to you.

You should say something. Confess, maybe, everything you’ve been hiding. “Cal, I--” You shift slightly, and something feels off. You furrow your brow and glance downwards at your joining point, “Cal are you still hard?”

He props his chin on your shoulder. “Uh--” He thrusts shallowly up into you, and you stifle a whimper. “Ye-yeah. Sorry?”

“N--” You gasp as his cock twitches. “No. Don’t be sorry. Do you need to go again?” Arousal stirs in your core again, burning a slow path through your nerves and reigniting the flames that had dulled to embers. Your breath catches in your chest and you grind your hips back into his.

“I--I think so.” His voice is strained and his breath comes in short gasps next to your ear. “Not-- not as-- as bad though.”

“That--ah!” Cal chooses that exact moment to pick a spot on your neck and latch on. He nips at the skin before soothing it with his tongue. His hands, roughened with callouses from his saber, climbing, and tinkering, scrape over your skin with just the right amount of friction. You bite your bottom lip. “That’s fine. Should I move?”

His hands find your hips and hold you firmly in place. That’s a no then. His hips rock up into yours gently, and you feel your cheeks warm at the wet sounds of your combined release. Cal grunts, “Let me.”

So you do. You lie back against his bare chest and just take what he gives you, whimpering whenever he brushes against that spot inside you that sends electricity up your spine. You’re gripping his arms so hard you’re sure he’s going to have bruises in the shape of your fingers.

---

Stars, you’re fucking perfect. Just lying here and giving yourself to him. He can feel the Force dimly, but it’s there. The pollen is leaving his system as he slowly fucks you on a cave floor in the middle of a dense forest while stormtroopers patrol outside.

You cry out with his next thrust, the head of his cock striking something inside of you that must feel good because you clench around him and--

Did you just come again?

The additional lubrication only increases the lewd squelch with every thrust, the mixture of his cum and yours only making sliding in and out of your channel easier. He can still feel the effects of the pollen at the back of his mind, and it keeps him hard and sensitive as he continues to fuck you.

He’s aware he should be at least a little worried about the implications, starting at the top with how he’s going to complete the mission and ending with what exactly fucking on a cave floor means for your relationship. Somewhere in the middle is the stormtroopers and the pollen, and the oath of the Jedi Order forbidding relationships. But he can’t grasp it.

Even if there are more pressing concerns, all he can do right now is continue pushing his hips up into your soaking core painstakingly slowly. He wants to enjoy this while he can, while he’s able to fool himself that you want him back. Unless…

---

The only solace you could find in the situation was that you could have Cal, even for these few short moments. Because as much as you may want to convince yourself, a tiny voice inside your head keeps whispering: it’s all the pollen. That’s the only reason why he wants you. And you force yourself to believe the voice, because it’s easier to block off any chance for pain and rejection.

But you know you’re in trouble the second Cal opens his mouth. The words are a harsh whisper, rasping out of his dry throat into your ear, “Beautiful. So gorgeous, giving me what I need, what I want.”

You arch against him and stifle the whimper rising in the back of your throat. His mouth is right next to your ear, so there isn’t anywhere for you to escape from the words that rumble into your brain; words you try to convince yourself are empty. You shove your hand against your mouth rather than allow any sound to escape.

He moans, “Want to do this again. Don’t want this to be just once.”

“Th--that--that’s the pollen talking.” You gasp when you feel his fingers graze over your clit, your own hand drifting back to latch into his hair.

Cal hisses when you tug with a little more strength than necessary, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. One hand supports your weight as he moves you up and down on his dick, the other rubbing little circles around your clit. His hips make up for the lost strength everytime they drive up into you at the lowest point of the rhythm, squelching with every thrust.

“Not--not the pollen. All you. All me.”

You blink, all temporarily forgotten when the words register in your hazy mind. “...What?”

“Wanted this. Wanted this for a while.” Cal finds your clit with his fingers, and you can’t prevent the way your legs jerk and your body seizes against his.

Fuck you’re going to cum. If the first orgasm was a flashfire, this one is a slowly simmering blaze. It creeps up slowly, burning a hole through your abdomen, curling around your ribs and inching down your legs. Your eyes roll back, and your head falls back against Cal’s shoulder.

“Cal. I--I thi--” You try to warn him, you really do. But words aren’t forming correctly right now, and it’s all you can do to hunker down and try to prepare yourself for this truly devastating crest that’s preparing to launch you over the edge.

If Cal gets your warning, he doesn’t show it. All he does is turn his head to the side, press a light kiss to your cheek, and groan, “I think I love you.”

Oh shit. Cal’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect if he planned it. Before you can respond, hell, before you can even begin to fucking process that last sentence, you’re coming hard. Maybe it’s the whiff of pollen you got earlier, or the fact that Cal is the one fucking you so sweetly and thoroughly, or the thrill of being mere steps away from discovery, or a combination of all of it, but this orgasm certainly feels like the most intense of your life.

Spasms ripple outward through your belly, curling you up in Cal’s lap as you ride out your high. Your legs straighten and your toes curl and you clamp down hard around Cal’s cock.

Cal shouts raggedly in your ear, pulling your body close. But even as you whimper and shake on the end of his cock, you remember that you can’t make too much sound.

As if he heard you, Cal burrows his face into your shoulder, his teeth once again finding a place in your skin to muffle his voice as he cums deep inside you once more. His body shakes as he spends himself again, the spasms slowly subsiding with every jerk of his hips into yours.

‘I did hear you.’ There’s a tinge of amusement to the nonexistent voice that echoes in your mind, and you relax back against Cal.

‘Feeling better?’ You nudge him back through the Force, revelling in the feeling of his colorful presence swirling around you once again. The pollen has worn off.

He doesn’t say anything in response, only pulls you close with his arms around you. His mind pushes at yours, and you let him in. You’ve done this a million times, usually on the tail end of nighttime panic attacks, but this time is different. This is the most loose he has ever been with his Force presence, and you allow it to fill the empty parts of your mind. Wait, he loves you?

He rushes over you in the same way the tide comes back to land, calming your fear at finally understanding the weight of his last confession. He’s relaxed, and the familiar energy has a new angle to it, a new emotion you hadn’t felt before in another’s Force signature. You grasp it gently, turning it over and admiring it in the eye of your mind. What is it?

The answer rushes to you just as Cal mutters against your skin, “Love.” The same thing you’d been feeling in the pit of your heart every time you looked at Cal, everytime he kept you safe from the nightmares in his arms and stayed with you until morning, every time you made him tea and did maintenance on his gear after a tough mission.

“I love you.”

You blink up at the ceiling of the rock cave, mouth open with the words just on the tip of your tongue. But they won’t come. The words are stuck in your throat, and try as you might, you can’t make yourself say them.

“Hey.” Cal whispers in your ear, and you shut your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. But you know that I do, and I know a little of what’s going on up here.” His finger taps the side of your head lightly. "You don't have to figure out where to go from here. I'll navigate."

‘Thank you.’ You send the words through the Force, and he acknowledges them. Yeah, you're shit at knowing where to go when it comes to feelings. But at least with Cal, you won't have to worry about getting lost alone. You sit in peaceful silence for a few minutes, before a thought occurs to you.

“Cal.” His name is little more than a weak rasp off your tongue. You clear your throat and try again. “Cal.”

He grunts unintelligibly.

“Don’t bring that seed back to the Mantis.”

A/N: I will be the first to admit that this fic was hard, because I wanted to incorporate some previous feelings into this to make it less dubcon, and I didn't feel that all plot holes were filled. But that didn't make this any less enjoyable for me, and it was fun to explore a new facet of Cal's character.

Thanks for everyone who gave me inspiration and motivation to keep pushing this through the old brain up here. Smut isn't the easiest for me:)

Taglist: @alliterative-albatross

#cal kestis #cal kestis x reader #sex pollen #pining fools #pining #fluff #feelings #smut

1K notes · View notes

whumpzone · 3 years

Text

Tomas and Rowe - Part 18

Masterpost

@sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @chifechi @unicornscotty @penny-for-your-whump @getyourwhumphere @likeit-or-whumpit @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory

CW: recovering pet whumpee, environmental whump, references to an amputated finger, paranoia/hallucinations

As he turned to lock the final door behind him, Rowe could see that he had been in a warehouse, evidently a rarely-used one. A single floodlight was on, illuminating nothing but a bare wall and the road leading up to it. Rowe had been correct- it was night. The open air was a thousand blessings as he breathed it in. His eyes felt clean, he could stand up properly, he wasn’t wearing that fucking collar anymore.

The happiness was short-lived, but he let himself have it. He was free. He just had to get home, now.

Rowe would have panicked, at that moment, but instead his heart toughened, because Kasia hadn’t been able to break him down. He was missing a finger, and the throbbing pain made sure he wouldn’t forget in a hurry, but he was still there, still himself. His nightmares would probably take a new form, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep alone again, but he was fine. He was a Pet. He was a person. Surviving was a skill of his.

He rested a hand on the wall, making sure he was hidden in shadow, and let himself take some of the weight off his scarred leg. Burnt, smashed, sewn up and burnt again. He would be limping, by the time he got home. But get home he would, and in some way, it was thanks to his leg. He had been sat on his bed, back when he couldn’t walk, looking for something to distract him from the feelings of anger and uselessness and what if he throws me out?

So he’d looked down and practised his reading. He remembered it perfectly. Tomas G…Grz…. something… 12 h-a-r-t… Hartland Road… your Pet… s-p-l-i-n-t…. bed rest for up to one week…

Rowe had read the address, and perhaps even then he’d known he might one day need it. It didn’t solve the problem of knowing whereHartland Road was, or whether he’d make it there without being stolen or beaten up or killed, but he had to try.

Kidnapped, he thought. You’d only say stolen for a piece of property.

The warehouse was evidently on the outskirts of town. Was it the right town? Rowe thought so, as he studied the lights shining down the road. Several of the shapes were familiar to him. The colourful string bulbs that were hung up along the shopping streets, the glow from the theatre on the hill, the dark spot where the graveyard sat. From his bedroom window he had to crane to get a good look, but he could see it well from the office. He ached to be back there. In the warmth and familiarity of it. Back with- Master? The word sounded strange now. Especially since- since Rowe felt like he understood him now. Understood his intentions.

He started to walk. Kasia’s jacket rested on his shoulders, and he couldn’t bear to put his arms in. The idea alone made him feel trapped. The thing smelt distinctly of the bastard, but Rowe knew it was preferable to the cold of a dead night. He found a main road soon enough, built up above the rest of the grassy flatland, so he gingerly climbed down the hill and walked alongside. He would be hidden from passing cars well enough, but his bare feet soon began to take the brunt of the choice of rough land over tarmac. Stones, sticks, was that roadkill, oh, god, all were littered through his journey which was only sparsely lit by the occasional road light. After a particularly sharp stone, or possibly even a discarded glass bottle, Rowe knew his foot was bleeding. He ground his teeth together. It wasn’t real if he couldn’t see it. And right now, he couldn’t see his own hand in front of him.

He kept his eyes on the lights from the town before him, slowly drawing closer.

He thought he heard footsteps behind him, running closer with horrifying speed. As they drew near he could hear Kasia screaming at him.

You think you can fucking get away from me? You think you locked that collar? You really think I won’t come back?

He kept his eyes fixed on the town. “It-it-it’s n-not real,” he whispered past the lump in his throat. He was trembling with fear. “It’s not real, I locked him up, I st-stopped him, it’s not real, it’s not.”

The paranoia wouldn’t leave him, though. Every passing car, though they were few and far between, made him jump and crouch down, hands clamped over his mouth. He couldn’t shake the fear that it was Kasia after him, out searching for the rotten escaped Pet. His leg burst with pain every time, making him whimper and cry when he tried to stand back up.

The sounds of footsteps gradually stopped, and Kasia’s voice faded, but Rowe could still feel his hands clawing at him. His back tingled with the overwhelming sensation that someone was behind him, creeping up and reaching out to grab-

Against his better judgement, he turned back. Darkness there, and nothing more. “Fuck, f-fuck, keep it together,” he muttered.

Just up ahead, he could see streetlamps. Proper ones, glowing a gentle orange. He went as far as he could along the grass, then climbed up, wetting his hands in the dew. He checked for cars, and seeing none, scrambled fully onto the road.

He realised he couldn’t run anymore- his leg would give out, or he wouldn’t be able to contain a howl of pain- so he limped as quickly as he could towards the next patch of shadow, over and over.

Eventually he came upon a sign: Welcome to….

It was half shadowed, but it was a map. He pushed himself up on his tip-toes, eyes scanning the jumble of letters and lines and symbols. Eventually he spotted it. Hartland Road. He traced the direction in his head, making sure it was committed to memory, although he knew he wouldn’t forget it even if someone tried to beat it out of him. And then, he started walking.

He couldn’t tell exactly what time it was, but he would have guessed around three or four in the morning. The pub, as he passed it, was quiet, although he still kept his distance, hugging the shadows.

He soon reached the base of the hill he knew he’d have to climb. As he started to ascend, he saw the Pet hospital in the distance. Oh god, would he have to go back there to get his finger treated? He pushed the question to the back of his mind. If he did, there wasn’t anything he could do.

A few cars drove by, as he walked. He wanted to duck into one of the smaller streets that branched off, but he had only memorised one route home, and he didn’t trust himself to improvise in the dark. So instead he squared his shoulders, stopped hunching, tried his best to look like a person walking home in his heavy jacket, not afraid, not prey. It didn’t feel quite right, but it was easier than he’d expected. And it worked- no cars stopped, no one seemed to give him a second glance.

He finally reached the street, the name lit up. Hartland Road. The sign was scuffed, like kids had popped the cap off their beers along its edge. It was fixed to the wall of a garden, weeds poking out through the bricks, a flyer from the council tied at eye-level to the neck of the streetlamp. Rowe took everything in as he walked. The bicycle clipped to a fence, the parked cars, the black bins left out for collection. Before, he never would have taken notice. None of it had mattered. But now, Rowe felt as if he had a new connection to the world around him. He could interact with it. He wasn’t leashed or under the watchful eye of an owner, he wasn’t crawling or blindfolded in the boot of a car. He was in pain, yes, but he was always in pain, so constantly that it hardly registered anymore. He was free.

Rowe didn’t recognise the house itself. The only times he’d ever left it, he’d been unconscious, or practically so.

But when he turned around, he saw the same view he’d had from his bedroom window every morning and night. He was home.

He remembered Kasia’s key, but it no longer fit into the front door. The lock must have been changed. Rowe hated that the alternative was to make a loud noise, at this hour, but perhaps that was the smarter way than simply slipping inside like- like Kasia. So he hesitantly pressed down on the doorbell, hitting his fist against the wood as well. He waited. He thought about how he’d never rung a doorbell before in his life.

Silence. Rowe wasn’t exactly surprised, but his heart still tightened. Suddenly the fresh air didn’t feel freeing, it felt exposed. He rang again, knocking harder, not giving up. Surely he would know it was urgent? Surely he would come down, and Rowe would get to see his face again?

Faintly, he heard the creaking of the stairs. “I-I-It’s me!” he said, hushed. “It’s me, I…”

His words died as the door slowly opened. Half a face, an eye framed by blond curls peered out, full of apprehension. In a heartbeat it landed on Rowe and widened, and the door flew open.

“Tomas,” Rowe said, loving how it felt to say his name, loving him, loving everything. “I’m back, I, I’m back, I’m back.”

Tomas raised a hand over his mouth, and for once he was the one shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god.”

And then he was reaching both arms out for Rowe with a sob. Rowe threw the horrible jacket to the ground and fell into him, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding on tight. He couldn’t have known whose knees failed first, but suddenly they had collapsed on the floor, clinging onto each other, not leaving a shred of space between as they both cried. Soaked in the orange light that pooled through the still-open front door.

#tomas and rowe #pet whump #whump fic #deconditioning #mine #my thoughts while writing this: i love my boy i love my boy i love my boy

233 notes · View notes

shadowsinger11 · 4 years

Text

You, The Stars And I

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k (oops)

Requested by @amira3113: Can I request a fic abt the reader seeing Fred and George comforting a kid after Umbridge punished him and the reader helps them and Fred thinks it's so cute what she is doing and she does the same and extra mega fluff, pls?🥺 you don't gotta do it if u don't want to btw.. so no pressure ;)

Warnings: A bit more angst than intended, Fred being a soft boi™️

A/N: I don't know how to feel, I just roasted myself hardcore with this and I'm feeling even more single. I'm sorry for not being able to use a 'keep reading' tab

Masterlist

The sun fell asleep behind the endless hills, enveloped by dense, opaque darkness. Its golden rays no longer shone through the wide windows of the castle and instead let shadows creep into the long, empty hallways, revealing the ugly truth about what the school had turned into over the past few months.

The naked walls stood tall, towering over you and inching closer with every step you took, and you hung your head low, aiming to block out the singular buzzing thought in your head.

Hogwarts was no longer home.

Your heart ached at the memory of hundreds of students chattering and laughing all day long, freely walking around the school grounds and simply being children. You so terribly missed being careless and having fun without the fear of potentially facing a life-threatening punishment.

But now there was no laughter, only your footsteps echoed in the hallway.

You were headed straight to your common room, determined to go to sleep early. The curfew and the dozens of new restrictions prevented you from meeting your friends, and you hoped that sleep would at least somehow distract you from your worries for a couple of hours.

The deafening silence nearly caused you to miss the muffled sobs and quiet whispering, coming from a turn not far away. It seemed as though there were more than one voice speaking, and your chest clenched with dread.

You hurried your pace until you reached the source of the noise, and peeked from behind the wall.

The sight most definitely surprised you, but the pain in your chest only sharpened.

There, on a bench, Fred and George were sitting, hunched over a small boy, probably no older than a second year. You could tell by his green robes which house he was in, but his red, tear-stained face was what alarmed you.

You immediately approached him and fell to your knees. George was on his left, rubbing slow, soothing circles on his back, while Fred was on the other side, holding his small hand in his, on the back of which a few words glistened with fresh crimson blood.

I must not ask questions.

You sent the twins a questioning look, but Fred dismissed it by shaking his head; clearly that was not the time for an explanation, nor was one necessary to begin with.

You placed a hand on the boy's knee to make your presence known.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

This only caused the child to sob harder and you internally cursed for having to go through this routine.

"It hurts…" he whimpered, "I thought Hogwarts was fun. I met friends last year and it was great. But now… Now I really want to go home."

Your jaw clenched and you swallowed hard, furious about seeing innocent children slowly losing faith and joy in life, turning into hollow shells of the amazing people they could have grown to become.

The horrifying experience would inevitably have a massive impact on them and unexplainable guilt twisted your stomach. And even though the long-term damage had already been done, you could at least take care of the temporary pain.

"It's not going to hurt for long, I promise," Fred whispered, tenderly playing with the boy's trembling fingers. "Ours are already fading."

"That's true, see?" George showed the back of his hand on which you could make out the faint, bloody words 'I must not cause trouble.', and you felt sick. "Soon you won't even remember it was there."

Tears stung in your eyes, but before you gave them a chance to fall, you turned to the redheads.

"I can heal the wound. Well, to an extent. If anything, I can lessen the pain," you began. "But I need to grab something from the Charms classroom."

Fred frowned, confused, "Wouldn't you need a potion for that? Why Charms?"

"Snape isn't the only one armored with potions for just in case things go wrong. And we can't risk going to the dungeons at this hour. It's not wise to tell Madam Pomfrey yet either."

The twins nodded. George said.

"It's not a good idea for all of us to go at once. I suggest one of us returns and covers the others up if necessary."

"I'll go with her," Fred stated without a second thought. "I can get them safely where they need to be, let her do her thing and bring them back."

Fred's eagerness to help filled you with warmth and for once that night you had the strength to smile, even for just a second.

"That sounds like plan then. But you should really take the map," George added, already pulling out the neatly folded Marauder's Map from his backpack. "Don't wanna risk getting caught by the ugly toad, you know."

"As if she'd be strolling down the hallways late at night. Doesn't she have hobbies?"

"Does hanging creepy pictures of cats on pink walls count as such?" you commented and the second year giggled, which made you feel slightly better as well.

Fred took the map from George and you grabbed the boy's hand.

"Good luck, guys. And, like, don't die."

"Woah, greatly encouraging, Georgie," you replied sarcastically, but appreciated it nonetheless. "You sure you'll be fine?"

"Absolutely. I got the route memorized like the back of my hand. I'll be careful."

And with that, George headed towards the Gryffindor Tower while you, Fred and the boy went in the opposite direction - the East Towers.

The night was eerily quiet, only the footsteps and shuddering breaths of the three of you keeping you sane. The soft light, gleaming at the tip of your wands, didn't do much to brighten the empty hallways which now seemed like endless voids of darkness.

Occasionally Fred would warn you about Filch's cat approaching, or Peeves causing trouble nearby, but fortunately, you reached the classroom sooner than expected.

"Alohomora," you whispered, but the door didn't bulge when you tried to open it.

Fred grinned, "Surely a Charms professor wouldn't let such a cliché unlock his own classroom."

"Shut up," you grumbled. "Aberto!"

The door opened. Fred's eyes widened in amusement and you flashed him a charming smile on your way in.

You placed the boy to sit on a desk as you and your friend rushed to look through drawers and chests for something useful. Most of them were full of basic items such as old books and quills, half-full jars of salamander blood, pearl dust and gillyweed, and after long fifteen minutes of not having found anything, you slid your back down against the wall, sighing in frustration.

Sleep-deprivation was kicking in, but your anxiety was getting stronger.

You needed to do something. Fast.

"What about this chest right here?" Fred asked from the other side of the classroom, pointing at something under Flitwick's desk.

You shook your head, "Doesn't open, already tried. Even if the cure is there, we can't get it."

"I take it your brilliant spells don't work anymore?" the redhead teased and you so badly wished to slap away the cocky smirk on his face. Or kiss it. There was something oddly attractive about the way he'd set your nerves on fire, and you hated yourself for enjoying it. Fred seemed to love it too.

"If you're only here to be annoying, just leave."

"I'm here to help too. I can multitask."

You nearly jumped from the ground to strangle him, and he clearly saw through your intentions because his toothy grin almost split his face in two. That bastard.

That super annoying, devilishly handsome bastard.

"Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you coming? Not that I mind the attention," he shrugged.

You rose to your feet and made your way over to where he was standing, not granting him the pleasure of facing him, "Don't flatter yourself, Weasley. Your stupidity is simply impossible to be unnoticed."

Fred laughed, "Oh, so I was annoying and now I'm stupid too? Make up your mind, woman."

You pulled out your wand and smirked at him over your shoulder.

"You said it yourself that you can multitask. Aberto!"

Nothing.

Fred squinted his eyes as he stared at the wooden chest. What spell could the professor have possibly used? Could you have even heard of it? The chances of ever finding the precious item were becoming grimmer with each passing second and the inevitable sense of dread had started to settle in.

After a minute Fred finally spoke.

"I think your problem is that you're using spells that only work on doors. You need a charm which unlocks containers."

"You might be right. What would that be then?" you enquired, glancing at the redhead. He took his own wand out of his robes.

"I know a spell that's come in handy before. Hopefully it will work now," he wettened his lips and said. "Cistem Aperio!"

Blinding light caused you to cover you eyes, and the chest opened with a loud thud which could have easily alerted the entire floor of your presence if it wasn't for the silencing charm you were lucky to have used when you first entered the classroom.

You finally dared to open your eyes and kneeled on the ground, carefully rummaging through fancy-looking boxes and vials sparking with liquids that seemed to be quite important.

"What are we looking for?" Fred asked as he crouched next to you.

"Wound-Cleaning Potion. Purple."

It was weird having Fred stand this close to you; sparks of electricity would pierce your heart every time his shoulder brushed against yours, or his fingers would accidentally graze yours. And when they did, they had you longing more and more for their touch, for their warmth.

But this warmth did not belong to you.

You swallowed down the disappointment and instead attempted to focus on the task at hand.

Just as you had expected, the precious crystal bottle was carefully wrapped in sparkling cloth and placed inside a box that was hidden deep in the corner of the chest. You breathed a sigh of relief and got on your feet, determined to stay away from Fred. For his sake and yours.

"Here it is," you smiled at the boy as you walked over to him. "Fred, can you get me some bandages from the drawer in the back?" you asked, pointing right behind him, and he did as he was told.

You took the hand of the young Slytherin and examined it closely - the wound was sure to leave a nasty scar, one that would never heal.

"Can you make it disappear?" he asked, fearfully.

Your heart dropped. But you replied with all the courage you could muster.

"I can try."

Fred was soon by your side and placed the medical items on the desk; a half-full packet of cotton, some bandages and a small box of bandaids. You muttered a 'thanks', not even looking at him, and opened the middle-sized bottle. It spread a characteristic smell of ashes, mint and lemon when you lifted it towards your nose - it was ready to use.

"So what now?" Fred asked.

Not granting him a reply, you simply took a small piece of the cotton and dipped the opening of the bottle into it, soaking it with a generous amount of the purple, dense liquid. The smell grew stronger.

Fred could only watch as you yet again gently grabbed the boy's hand and carefully dabbed the back of it; a thin steam of smoke soared from the contact of wet cotton and wounded flesh, purple mixing with red, and the kid hissed in pain. You worked attentively but quickly, with measured gestures and a straight face, and you missed the way Fred's eyes seemed to soften at the sight of you helping a small kid.

But one thing baffled him - why did you suddenly start acting so emotionless? Even towards the youngling who didn't know a thing. And though your expression seemed calm and collected, the Gryffindor noticed your tensed jaw.

What he wasn't aware of, however, was the racing speed of you heart, increasing each second. He wasn't aware of the short, shallow breaths you were taking because if you had allowed yourself to breathe freely, you'd certainly let out tears along with the deeps sighs.

Every move was calculated, every word and breath.

You pressed a fresh piece of cotton against the now cleaned wound and kept it there as you began to roll the bandage over it, securing it in place. When you were done, you placed a gentle, lingering kiss on the hand.

"There. It should do the trick."

The boy's face lit up and he hugged you, not giving you another choice but to wrap your arms around his small body. At least you had managed to bring him back some of the lost warmth.

"We should get him to his dorm," you told Fred and despite not facing him, he knew the words were directed towards him. That still didn't prevent the stinging pain in his chest from being so effortlessly avoided by you, and he frowned, bewildered by your unexpected coldness towards him.

Had he accidentally done anything to upset you? Were you mad at him? What for?

The boy jumped to his feet, visibly less burdened despite the present tear stains on his puffy cheeks. You hoped he'd be able to get some sleep that night regardless of the circumstances.

The three of you left the classroom as quietly as you had entered it and went in the direction of the dungeons. Fred, as usual, did his job at looking at the map and keeping track of the names, moving on the yellow-ish piece to old parchment.

Fortunately, you reached the Slytherin common room without any disturbances along the way, and the boy went inside, eager to crawl into bed and not think about the ugly lady who had punished him so unfairly just a few hours ago.

The door closed without a sound, leaving you and Fred on your own.

His soft voice broke the burdening silence.

"Are you going to bed?"

If you were being honest, you hadn't even thought about sleep during your secret adventure and though your body was on the verge of giving out, your restless mind was sure to wander all night. And the idea of being alone with your thoughts scared you.

"Actually… I don't think so," you began, fiddling with your fingers in hopes to not let Fred see how much they were trembling. "I doubt I'd be able to get any sleep now."

"Me too, I admit," Fred scratched the back of his neck, uncertain as to how to make the situation less awkward than it was. Trying to get you to talk was hard enough as it was, but your sudden avoidance wasn't helping either. All Fred wished for was to witness the hopeful spark in your eyes, the spark that he had noticed diminish on the first day of school when the unsettling news was announced.

Fred was determined to bring the light back and see your joyous smile again.

Without skipping a beat he said.

"Come with me."

Your eyes shot up in surprise, meeting Fred's for the first time that night. You expected to see the ever-present playful mischief in them, but instead they glistened with something you could not quite recognize. The corners of his mouth had formed a smile, one that didn't intend to mock or provoke in any way, but still contained his usual boyish charm. It was humble and sincere, and along with the anticipating look in his eyes it read.

Trust me.

Your mouth went dry, any and all reasoning to stay vanishing in thin air as you tried to make sense out of your inner conflict. Fred surely wouldn't care if you said no, would he? It's not like he'd be offended that someone like you refused to go with him; why would he even be interested in you in the first place?

But the idea of spending some time alone with him did sound very tempting - you desperately needed some positivity in that moment, feeling exceptionally drained of all your energy after having to witness the emotional and psychological impact of Umbridge's dictatorship. And if there was someone who could lift your spirit even in such dark times, that would be Fred.

Screw the idea of a potential relationship, you needed a friend right now.

"Where to, Weasley?"

Fred grinned at the nickname and shoved hands into his pockets.

"The Astronomy Tower. Are you coming?"

You smiled at him.

"Sure."

It was indeed a brilliant idea to spend the night at the place where anyone rarely ever set a foot. Regardless of it being crowded during classes all day, the Tower wasn't a common choice for students to meet, them much preferring locations like the common rooms, the Great Hall, the school grounds or even the Black Lake. But the Tower did possess a magnetic, obscure charm which many people failed to comprehend and appreciate; charm only meant to lure the wandering souls seeking peace under the stars.

Fred approached the iron railing, breathing in the cold, early spring air, and sat cross-legged on the ground. As he saw you standing a few feet away from him, he patted the empty spot next to him.

"Come on now, don't leave me sitting on my own like that," he joked and his face lit up when he noticed the ghost of a smile on your lips for a brief moment. You joined Fred on the ground, settling on a polite distance from him, and though he was slightly disappointed by the gesture, he was grateful to be in your presence nonetheless.

Silence fell over both of you like soft velvet while you stared off into the horizon; the view reached the Forbidden Forest, the outlines of which had melted into the pitch black sky like ink, the lines between the two practically nonexistent in the dead hours of the night as they blurred into one endless void.

"I don't remember the last time I saw stars on the sky," Fred addressed your ever-listening companions above in a low, hushed voice that caused warmth to blossom within you regardless of the cold surrounding you.

"Me neither," you agreed, nostalgia creeping into you, but you decided you'd welcome it this time. "Such a shame we can't see the moon though."

Your friend nodded, lips pursed into a thin line, "That's because it's currently new moon. We'll need to wait for awhile until it's visible again."

You turned to Fred and the air was knocked out of your lungs. All you could do was silently admire the way the starlight was softening his sharp features and giving his usually flaming red hair a calming shade of copper. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark, and you found yourself coming to the conclusion you had realised long ago.

He was such a beautiful man.

Those glowing eyes landed on yours and you felt your face heat up.

"How are you?" he asked abruptly and you choked out in bafflement.

"Y-You mean, right now? Or in general?..."

"How are you coping?" he rephrased. "You know, with everything going on. I noticed Umbridge bothering you recently."

A shuddering breath.

"I like to think that I'm doing better than others," you nodded hesitantly, finding it hard to sort out your emotions. "I'm more worried about the most vulnerable among us, the youngest students. They're just children. They're the ones that are most terrified. I really hope Dumbledore will be able to do something about it… no matter where he might be right now."

Fred was watching you intently; he did not miss your expression, darkened with concern, nor did he miss your slumped figure, slightly hunched over for a reason he believed was other than exhaustion. Your friend moved closer and nudged your foot with his.

"I don't want you to talk to me about the rest. I want to hear about you. I can clearly see you're being tormented by her."

"As if you're not."

"That's not the point," he insisted and placed a hand on your knee, causing you to face him. His smile was gone. "I need to know how this madness is affecting you."

"I couldn't care less about what that toad puts me through," you shook your head dismissively and shrugged. Why was he getting so worked up about it? "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does! It matters to me!" Fred hissed in frustration. "Do you think it doesn't hurt me every time I see Umbridge picking at you or calling you for detention? Because it bloody does and you have no idea how horrible it feels to not be able to help you."

He gave your knee a squeeze.

"For once, just for one time, please. Please, stop trying to be the hero of everybody. Believe me, we see- I see how hard you're trying to keep your chin up despite all the shit you're facing, and that's admirable, but right now it's not necessary. Let go. It's just me."

A way too familiar lump formed in your throat and your chest constricted painfully before it harshly dilated, letting out choked breaths. Fred was quick to envelope you in his long arms before your tears even rolled down your cheeks, and when they did, they met his shoulder. Your hands flew around his neck, body falling into his and soaking up his warmth. Fred pressed his soft lips to your temple, calming the racing pulse as you cried freely and unapologetically. Darling, you feel too much.

It's just me.

Your friend didn't let you out of his hold even when your heart-wrenching whimpers were reduced to weak sobs. He continued cradling your exhausted body which was on the verge of completely giving out. But Fred didn't mind, finding astonishing strength in your vulnerability.

After what seemed like hours, you forced yourself to timidly whisper, lip quivering, "I'm scared... And confused."

"Me too, sweetheart," Fred hummed into your ear. "Me too."

You wiped away the trails of dried tears lingering on your face.

"There's just too much going on. Too much that I'm not ready for."

Realization flashed in Fred's brown eyes and they looked down at you with so much longing, sincerity, but also sympathy and understanding.

You weren't angry at him. You were afraid.

And that was alright.

There was enough time, not need for a rush.

Fred had been waiting for years to find out whether his burning feelings for you were reciprocated, constantly suppressing them in fear of scaring you away and losing you. And now that he knew your heart belonged to him like his did to you, all the stars above couldn't contain his untamed happiness, pure and hopeful.

Surely he could wait a little more for you to grow comfortable with your own emotions.

Fred tightened his hold around you and pecked your cheek tenderly, the subtle touch sending a shock throughout your body and subsiding your need for sleep.

"That's alright," he whispered. "Rest now."

@self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii

Message me if you want to be tagged~

Reblog my work if you enjoyed it!

Masterlist

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader angst #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #james phelps #george weasley #oliver phelps #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #harry potter imagines

1K notes · View notes

spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

Who Needs Luck?

A/N: hi! I solely wrote this because of my 3 recent visits to NY (no, I sadly did not meet mgg)... plus i’ve been going there my whole life.. this is becoming the longest authors note, but as i’m writing I just want to say the people who work at food trucks in nyc are the nicest people ever, ask them about their day (AND TIP OMG PLS)

Summary: Reader invites Spencer to go to New York City with her where he finally sees the beauty right in front of him.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff!

Content Warnings: reader can’t drive very well (I apologize if this is a callout post), slight road rage, language

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

____

I never considered myself a lucky man. Life had proven time and time again that no matter how many four leaf clovers I set out to search for, how many pennies on the ground faced heads up I stumbled across, luck was never on my side. I’ve learned to live with it, accepted my fate as the world’s smartest punching bag long before I was even in college.

But then I met her, and as cheesy as it sounds, I didn’t need luck that morning.

The second I woke up, the universe seemed to have it out for me specifically. I swung my legs over my bed, and in my half asleep daze stepped on my glasses, successfully breaking them. Unable to see on my short trip to the bathroom, I stubbed my toe… twice. Once I finally finished my morning routine more methodically, I walked out of my apartment only to bump into a stranger, sending the coffee she was holding all the both of us.

I had tried to apologize so many times, cutting my words short when they didn’t feel right. I had gotten through a series of “I’m, uh, oh, I, you,” before her smile interrupted my thought process, leaving me awestruck instead.

“That’s okay, but you owe me a coffee now.” She giggled, actually giggled, even with the scorching liquid causing her shirt to stick to her body. “Maybe… together?”

I didn’t hesitate to agree, taking her up on the offer that weekend and never looking back. Even when a loud crash, followed by a quiet, harsh ‘shit’ woke me up in a startle, there was no regret. Maybe just a little concern for my girlfriend who now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, can be seen holding her knee on the floor of our bedroom.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered out, grabbing onto the dresser to stand straight again. Once she was on her feet, she came over to sit on the edge of our bed, immediately running her fingers through my hair. If I wasn’t so worried about her knee, I probably would’ve fell asleep again.

“Are you okay?” She giggled at my scratchy morning voice before nodding her head. It’s then I realized how the sun hasn’t even begun to rise, the room still pitchblack. “What are you doing up?”

“Getting ready to go to the city, sleepyhead,” she said as if it was the most obvious answer, but truthfully, it left me with more questions.

“At... 5 am?” I sat up, glancing at the alarm clock three times just to make sure I was reading it right. She may have always been a little strange, but usually at a reasonable hour.

At this, she stood up to continue getting ready for the very early morning. Now I notice why she fell, the piles of clothes leading to the closet had to have at least half of her outfits compiled together.

“Well, yeah. I want to get there before noon.” Even in my perplexed state, I rose from the bed and carefully tiptoed around haphazardly thrown clothes to reach her.

While wrapping my arms around her waist still hidden under my t-shirt, I questioned. “It’s right outside? You have 7 hours.”

She turned to look at me funny as if I wasn’t the one digging through clothes and waking up before dawn to walk literally 5 minutes to my desired location. My eyebrows must have subconsciously furrowed at one point, because she brought her hand up to stroke her thumb on my forehead. Immediately, I felt the tension melt, no longer caring to correct my confusion. She still did it anyway.

“Not DC, silly. New York!” I wish it were untrue, but my heart dropped at her words. She was leaving, going to a city I wasn’t familiar with beyond reading about, solving cases, and memorizing subway maps. Is this how she feels every time I board that jet?

“W-what? You’re just going to New York City?” I inwardly cringed at how desperate and sad I sounded, but I really didn’t want her to leave.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, turning back around to return digging in her closet.

“For how long?” Please change your mind. Please change your mind. Please change you-

Realizing that I was fully awake, she let out a boisterous laugh, allowing the way it bounced off our four little walls to return back to us. It was a sound most treasured. “I was hoping to get back around 9.”

“What?” I leaned back to look at her like she was absolutely preposterous. I mean, she was!

“Roadtrip!”

That’s how I found myself in the passenger seat of her car, no coffee in my hand because I wasn’t allowed until I have “a real cup of coffee.” Whatever the hell that means better happen soon, because as much as I loved watching the way she concentrates on the road in front of her, my eyes were starting to droop.

“It’s going to be another 4 hours. You can sleep, my love.” How she knew me so well, I will never be able to figure out, but I was out before we even made it across state borders.

That however, didn’t last very long. My girlfriend may be short and sweet, but behind the wheel? That’s a different story. The horn to her car is a very familiar sound when I’m jolted awake by a sudden stop.

“Really, asshole? Go!” She yelled, slamming her hand against the top of the steering wheel before looking over at me. “Hey, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you yet. I forgot how awful drivers are here.”

“Where is here exactly?” I questioned, sitting up from my slouched position to find cars practically on top of each other on a road not wide enough for two lanes.

“New Jersey. We’re 10 minutes away.” Wow, I didn’t realize I slept for that long, and I have to admit I’m a little surprised I wasn’t woken up sooner.

“How are we 10 minutes away? It’s at least another 30 to get to the tunnel.” Looking at our surroundings didn’t help me determine our exact location. To the left of us, there were dozens of graffiti murals on the side of what I assumed was another elevated highway. To the right, sidestreets with local businesses ranging from auto repair shops to fast food joints to gyms.

“Nuh uh, stop analyzing mister. You’ll know when we get there.” She waved a finger in my directions, putting a pin in my scrutinization. I pouted right back, successfully playing along to the theme of her scolding me like a 5 year old.

“I don’t like surprises you know.” It was the truth, but her contagious laughter that filled the car made me slightly less disinclined to stop asking questions.

“Oh I know, but trust me, you’ll like this one.” She went to go reach over to grab my hand from where it was resting in my lap, but stopped short and retracted in favor of slamming the horn. “Oh, come on!”

***

“So you drove to a train station... in New Jersey?” I asked while she was… attempting to park the car.

“Well, yeah. I’ve been taking this route since I was a little girl.” Once she finally figured out how to evenly space a two door convertible in a very spacious parking spot, she unbuckled her seatbelt, and was quick to grab her bag from the backseat. “Well, come on mister, we’re going to miss the train.”

To be quite honest, I have never been so lost in my life. I could probably pinpoint our exact location on a map if I wanted to, granted I was given any sort of information, but part of me didn’t want to. Scratch that, all of me didn’t want to, because my entire life has been planned out in front of me before, but right now, I get to be spontaneous with the most beautiful girl on the planet.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” she told me, lacing our fingers together and pulling me forward. “Don’t stop to look around, you will get pushed.”

We made it inside, and if I thought the DC transit system was bustling with people constantly, this place was so much worse. There were hallways left and right, all packed with people in a rush. It seems everybody had some place to be and zero time to get there.

“Upstairs.” We walked up two flights before reaching a platform, buying our tickets and making it just in time for a train to arrive. “I know they come every 8 minutes, but thank god we made this one,” she said as she sat down.

The cart we were in wasn’t too crowded, and once I finally found a map on the wall across from us, I saw that it was a direct ride to the World Trade Center.

“You said you took this train when you were little?”

“Yeah, I went to the city a lot as a kid. This was the easiest, and the cheapest way there.” A small smile played at her lips, obviously the product of some childhood memory. “I used to hop it.”

“Of course you did,” I laughed back with her, thinking about how an innocent looking child would be the first person to get away with sneaking onto the train.

***

“I said it before, I will say it again. Do not let go of my hand.” This time it was more stern, and if I were being honest, I would say that it got me the slightest bit nervous. She must have noticed, she always does, because she continued. “Don’t worry, it just gets congested and I don’t want to lose you.”

She was right about that, it indeed was very congested, but that was okay because she was holding my hand, and I would follow her just about anywhere if it meant she kept looking over her shoulder and smiling when she saw me. Once we made it across the way, and in front of heavy looking glass doors, she turned to me and started walking backwards.

“You okay? This is definitely not off to a great start.” She was wrong, it was off to a perfect start.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but you might want to watch where you’re going,” I said before her back hit the door.

“Please I can get here with my eyes closed.” And then we were outside, and all 5 of my senses were hit immediately. The sun was shining down on us, and before I could complain about not bringing my sunglasses, she handed them to me. My heart fluttered at the innocent act, taking the sunglasses with such gratitude even though she had already moved on to retrieve hers. “Do you smell that?” She asked.

“There are a lot of answers to that question,” I told her, not knowing if she was talking about the smell of the construction happening at the corner, the permanent garbage smell or something entirely different.

“The hotdogs, silly. Come on, there’s nothing like ‘em.” This time, I laced our fingers together, not because I was scared of losing her, I was, but I just really wanted to be closer to her. She didn’t mind, in fact, she let out a content hum and leaned her head on my arm as we walked to the stand.

“Can I get four hotdogs with sauerkraut and two grape sodas,” she asked the vendor, who politely nodded before moving on to prepare our food.

“You’re going to have a heart attack by 35,” I said as I nudged her with my shoulder. She gave me a small push back before answering.

“Is that a doctor’s diagnosis?” She asked as she took our now ready food into her hands, after paying the man before I even had time to blink. I just grabbed the two cans of soda and followed her where she was making a beeline for a park bench. “Watch out for skaters.”

“Yes, it is indeed a doctor's diagnosis.” I unwrapped one of the hotdogs before taking a bite. I closed my eyes and let out a content hum. “It may be a little worth it.”

“Exactly.” We sat there quietly, enjoying the warm weather and sounds of wheels against pavement. At one point, she rested her head against my shoulder, and I am convinced wherever she went would be Heaven.

***

“Are your eyes closed?” We found ourselves with both our hands interlocked, my eyes closed while she walked backwards. I gave an ‘mhm’ before she continued. “We’re here, just keep them closed, and…” her words trailed off. “Okay open.”

I opened my eyes to her holding her arms out in the middle of the largest bookstore I’ve ever seen. “Surprise!” My eyes were bouncing everywhere. It wasn’t too crowded, the large stairwell across the store catching my eye first. There were bookshelves tens of feet high, all loaded with different genres and authors. To the right of us, tiny knick knacks and pins and socks. It was beautiful.

“Wow,” I whispered out, still stuck in my place admiring our surroundings. She was beaming up at me, a hint of pride at her successfulness to drag me 6 hours away to the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

“The Strand has always been my favorite place in the city. Come on, let’s go explore.” She grabbed my hands again, pulling me deeper into the store towards a shelf labeled adult fiction.

***

Six books, three pairs of socks and a postcard later, we were back on the busy streets of New York, aimlessly walking and admiring the tall buildings and different attractions. Well she was, I was admiring the way she was looking around like it was her first time here. Maybe I should have been paying more attention to our surroundings, but no amount of skyscrapers or fountains could possibly ever match up to her level of beauty.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I asked randomly, startling her into jumping a tiny bit before giggling. She stopped us, turning to face me fully before reaching up to grab my face in her hands.

“Once or twice.” The kiss we shared on the New York streets were no different than the ones before, but this time, it felt like a silent promise. A passing between two lovers that no matter where we are, our love is the most beautiful thing there is. “I love you too, dork.”

___

Join a taglist here Tell me your thoughts on this fic here Have a request? Send it in here

Taglist: @the-girl-who-writes-fanfiction @haylaansmi @masumiyetimziyanoldu @cielo1984 @rexorangecouny @username2002 @calm-and-doctor @pieceofried @mermaidshmari @missyoumaybank @everythingbutnormal @seasonfivereid @no-honey-no @muffin-cup @90spumkin @spenxerslut

181 notes · View notes

disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

Text

The Rules of Engagement (3/5)

The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 3.4k

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, body horror, general trauma. Please, please heed the warnings on this chapter, guys. It gets pretty intense.

a/n: Unbeta’d. I know I said this was going to be three chapters, but I lied. Sorry, my dudes - this one got away from me. Inspo credit goes to @tiffdawg, as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Well, fuck. You bite back a massive sigh.

You really, really don’t want to walk through that door.

It’s been a month, and you life has changed profoundly.

For one, you’re not at the office as much anymore - Stechner had made good on his promise to consider you for more flyovers, and boy, has Centra Spike been busy. Some new vigilante group is terrorizing Medellín, and while it’s not Search Bloc’s priority to go after them, they’ve undeniably kept Pablo and his sicarios busy. The radio frequencies are hot right now, and you’ve been doing eight, sometimes ten flights a week.

You absolutely love it. The hours are less predictable and definitely more shitty, but listening to a radio from the cockpit of a plane is much more fun that listening to a radio in a stuffy basement office, so you consider it a fair trade.

It keeps your brain busy, too.

Your social life has taken a massive kick to the nuts. Ana is back at university, and you miss her more than you thought you would. You’ve reverted to communicating with Emilio with gestures and smiles more than words. It’s nice because he’s nice, but you miss actual conversation, stilted as it was. Ana wasn’t all that bad, either.

And then there’s Javi.

You haven’t spoken to him since That Morning, not even a polite 'how are you?' in the hallway. Granted, you’re not seeing him as often anymore, given your new position and hours, but then again, you haven’t exactly sought him out, either.

The memory claws at you every time you relive it - and you relive it often. That anger, that wounded expression. The slammed door, his retreating footsteps. Each time you’re in that building, the walls seem to close in on you, and you have to stop yourself from looking for him, actively keep your gaze from roaming straight to his desk.

God, as if you could make it more awkward.

You’d had one nasty conversation with Murphy about a week after the incident - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he could either mind his own business or fuck right off, you didn’t care which. He’d left you be, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something about how “you two deserve each other.”

Asshole.

Still, that aborted conversation haunts you - so many aborted conversations haunt you - and you wonder what would have happened if you’d just taken the bull by the horns and addressed the issue with Javi head on.

I’m sorry you caught me rubbing one off on the morning after you almost died, Peña. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. Your friendship means the world to me.

Yeah, right.

God, though, but you miss him.

You miss him so much it aches, a gaping hole that reaches right down to the core of you, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You’d fucked this one completely and thoroughly - any chance of restoring your friendship had drained away with the shower-water, and the more time you spend fretting over it, the more awkward - and pathetic - it would be to say anything.

So, you’d cut your losses, held your head high, and tried not to waste too much time wishing you’d have just kept your fucking fantasies to yourself.

Now, though, you’ve got no choice.

You’d been on Centra Spike’s early morning flight, just another routine scan over Medellín. The shift wasn’t intended to be more than a training run for you, but as luck would have it, the Medellín cartel’d had a busy night, and you’d been caught in the crossfire.

Your plane had just touched down half an hour ago, and now you’re standing on the front steps of the embassy building, fingering a shoebox cassette player loaded with a freshly taped recording full of juicy intel destined for the desk of DEA Agent Javier Peña - an entire, private conversation featuring none other than Verdugo himself.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’ve studied it for hours, what few snatches you’d been able to glean from the embassy archives. It’s almost as if Verdugo is smart enough to steer clear of the city, or to just avoid phone conversations all together, the absolute fuckwad.

Until early this morning.

On the plane, you’d intercepted a new signal and tapped in on a whim, intending to practice your Spanish more than anything, but what you’d overheard was a fucking gold mine of information.

Verdugo is in Medellín. The sicarios are getting ready to move Escobar. He didn’t say where - fucking bastard knows not to spill all of the beans in one conversation - but apparently the plan requires a rendezvous in El Centro first. Verdugo is en route, and will be there until the next morning.

You’d worked frantically all night, tracing and retracing the signal, triangulating potential addresses, then back-tracking to account for environmental distortion. Each calculation had led you to the same place - an unassuming little house right smack in the middle of Medellín.

Bingo.

“You take it in, Aarons.” Torres had declined your offer to do the honors. “It’s your intel.”

So here you are, bleary-eyed and running on less than two hours of sleep, cassette player clenched tightly to your chest, summoning up all of your courage just to go speak with your ex... well, ex whatever-the-fuck Peña is.

‘This is your job,’ you remind yourself fiercely. ‘You can do this.’

As pep-talks go, it isn’t very effective.

Fuck it. You toss your head back, wishing you’d had time to at least grab a cup of coffee on the way in, and breeze around the corner.

“Agent Peña.”

He glances up lazily, thoroughly uninterested in whatever you have to say. When he realizes it’s you, he blinks once, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and sitting up to eyeball you with a wary expression.

"What can I do for you?” he asks cooly.

You remember him saying that once before, but the context was totally different.

You shake it off. “Centra Spike has new intel that you’ll want to see right away.”

He purses his lips, tilting his head to indicate the growing pile of bullshit on his desk. “You can leave it here.”

Oh, so that’s how it is, then?

“I can’t.” You pin him with a stare, and he meets your gaze evenly, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge. You clear your throat and clarify. “I won’t.”

He scoffs as you carefully rest cassette tape on his desk, along with a map of El Centro. “We intercepted a four minute conversation with Verdugo this morning. He’s here.” You point to the safe house on the map, which you’ve already circled in red ink. “Feo and Limón are with him. They’re leaving early tomorrow.”

Peña frowns down at the spot where your finger rests. “And can you corroborate that information?”

Oh, the motherfucker. “I verified his voice personally, Peña,” you say carefully, doing your damndest to keep the annoyance from your tone. It’s well within his right to ask questions, after all. “It’s a direct match for the audio samples we have.” You tap the tape for emphasis. “You’re welcome to listen for yourself.”

He doesn’t make a move for a long time. Something hot and painful burns in your gut as you wait.

God, he knows you, knows you better than anybody else in on this goddamned continent. He knows that you know your shit, that you want to catch Escobar as desperately as he does. And this evidence that you have spread across his desk, recorded on tape and marked plainly in red ink, is irrefutable, undeniable - it’s a huge break. He knows that, too.

His apathy is palpable, and it’s driving you up the fucking wall.

When he finally glances up at you, it’s with a doubtful little smirk on his face. “Hmm.”

And oh, wow, you’re shocked by just how much that hurts.

All your life, from the moment you were born into a family of brothers, you’ve had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. It was a fact of life as early as you can remember - ‘look after your sister,’ or, ’she’s just a girl,’ or ‘wow, you’re really great at math, for a woman!’ You’d settled on your career as an analyst because you’d wanted it, not because you’d had something to prove, but still, the military is a male-dominated field, and from the start, the odds had been stacked against you. Landing this CIA gig had been the achievement of a fucking lifetime. Still, the bar is set high in the Colombia, and it’s set that much higher for a woman. You’re well aware of this; you’re reminded every single day.

Point being, you’re used to defending yourself and your abilities; it comes as natural as breathing.

But until now, you’ve never had to fight this battle with Peña. He’d taken you at face value from the moment he'd laid eyes on you, treating you like just another operative. Sure, he might take a crack at you every now and again, but that's all in good fun, and you’ve never been one to shy away from a laugh.

Christ, you never realized just how much that respect meant to you until suddenly, it’s gone.

“If you have something to say about my skills and qualifications, Agent Peña, then I suggest you say it.” You lean over his desk, speaking quietly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision. “Otherwise, I think we both know that it’s in the best interest of Search Bloc and the Colombian people that we collaborate quickly, so we can put boots on the ground and land this motherfucker behind bars where he belongs.”

Peña’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head, studying you. You meet his gaze, biting back a snarl. You won’t back down. You won’t allow him to intimidate you.

When he nods sharply and reaches for his phone, you know you’ve won.

♠

Ten minutes later, you’re situated in a conference room with Peña, Steve Murphy, Martinez, and a couple of the other higher ups of Search Bloc whose names you haven’t memorized. Your maps are spread over the table, your tape displayed for all to see, and every eye is on you.

“Verdugo is here,” you say, leaning over the map to indicate the marked house. “He and his entourage arrived late last night, and they’re planning to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Plenty of time to get a team together.” Murphy interjects, glancing between you and Peña with open curiosity.

You narrow your gaze at him. Drama-mongering bastard.

Peña’s not moving. He’s standing with his hip cocked toward the desk, frowning down at the map with his fingers curled to his chin like he’s totally oblivious to everything happening around him.

You know he’s not, though. That’s Javi’s thinking face, the one he makes when he wants people to shut the fuck up and forget about him until he can work something out. You’re pretty familiar with that one.

The others are babbling in Spanish, discussing logistics and the likelihood of this being another trap.

It’s not. You know this deep in your bones. You’d heard that conversation in real time, had translated, triangulated it.

This is legit.

You’ve just decided to leave them to it when Javi snaps his eyes open.

“I agree with Aarons,” he announces out of nowhere. You’re startled by the confidence in his tone. Curious, you glance up, but it’s difficult to get a read on him. He’s pinning every person in the room except you with a hard stare. “We need to move out now.”

Several of the others make noises of protest, but Peña shuts them all down, one by one. Finally, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, just for a brief second, but there’s something different in his gaze, something new and heavily guarded.

You think it might be an apology.

“Let’s end this.”

♠

He’s on a plane to Medellín within an hour, wearing that stupid bullet proof vest. For just a split second, you wish that you were going, too. You don’t have enough experience, though - you’re not an agent; you haven’t handled a gun since basic. You’d be useless in a real fight, a liability, even.

Still, you feel some ownership in this operation, today more than ever. You don’t even try to kid yourself about Javi anymore, either. Those fucking feelings haven’t faded in a month, not a bit, not even after the awkward conversation you’d had in his office.

‘But he stood up for you, too, afterward,’ something whispers in the back of your mind. You replay that little glance in the conference room over and over as you watch Search Bloc board the plane.

He’s looking for you this time, standing on the ramp with his eyes shaded like he knows you’ll be waiting. He doesn’t nod and you don’t wave, but you make eye contact for a lingering moment, and again, there’s something in his expression that you don’t recognize.

Then the plane takes off down the runway, and you feel as if your heart is swooping away with it.

♠

You volunteer for the late shift at work, monitoring the radio lines in case something comes up. It’s an unusually quiet night, as if all of Bogotá collectively holds its breath, and you mostly spend it watching the clock, calculating the hours in your head.

One to land in Medellín. Two more to mobilize the men. Another half to get in location.

From there, your speculation gets fuzzy. There’s no way to predict the outcome once Verdugo is engaged. Javi’s told you a million stories, each more unbelievable than the last - car chases and rooftop shootouts, standoffs in the street, a fistfight in a church sanctuary, bodies of children littering dark alleyways… you cut off the recollections. They aren’t doing you any favors.

Verdugo is a dangerous man. Anything could happen.

By seven am, your brain is mush and your eyes are hyper-focused in that bleary way that happens when you’ve gone too long without sleep. Your third cup of coffee has gone cold, and people are starting to trickle in. You wave half-heartedly to Torres as you slip out of your headset, rubbing your fingers over your scalp to ease the tension that comes from wearing heavy earphones all night. A shower sounds nice, you decide, and maybe a quick nap afterward.

Somebody will page you with news.

Getting out of the building does a lot to wake you up. There’s something oppressive about the CNP headquarters that seems to abate when you step into the streets of Bogotá. The city buzzes with life even in the early morning, and air is warm in a way that seems to energize rather than sedate. Optimism is easier to invoke as you walk down the street in broad daylight.

Javi had looked at you, at least. He’d listened. He’ll call in to the office as soon as he can. Your intel was good, and they’ve flushed out the rat, he’d promised you that.

Everything will be okay.

You round the corner of CRA 70 and Circular, waving to Emilio, who is working the register of the pharmacy today.

“Orejas!” He shouts, reaching below the counter to hold aloft another bottle of aguardiente. “¡Mira! Solo para ti!”

You grin back at him, raising your voice to shout a greeting, and then, with absolutely no warning, the store explodes.

A loud boom.

A whoosh of impossible heat.

A massive orange fireball billowing from the windows.

Your body flying, flying through the air.

Bright blue sky, and then darkness.

♠

You find yourself lying flat on your back in the middle of the street. Your ears are ringing. There’s a pat-pattering in the air, soft like falling rain.

You blink hard.

It’s not rain, you realize dizzily.

It’s fucking ash.

The air is dark with it, hot and heavy. It coats your tongue and stings your eyes. It’s hard to catch a breath. Your throat hurts, your chest aches. You cough weakly. The smell is terrible, acrid and bitter like burned metal. You can taste it on your tongue.

Slowly, you tense your muscles. Your chest is still burning, but there’s nothing sharp to suggest a serious injury. Your back is sore, your head fuzzy.

You sit up, wincing a little, relieved to realize that you’ve just had the wind knocked from you. You’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but that’s all.

Sound slowly filters in. The hiss and crackle of flame. A shout in the distance. Further away, a wailing siren.

Reality slams into you all at once.

Emilio!

You stand, wobbling more than you think you should, but you push past it. Reality seems to pitch and roil, as if the ground is hitching its breath beneath you. Rubble coats the street, dust clouds the air.

Oh god.

A gaping, smoking crater is all that’s left of Emilio’s pharmacy. The windows are blown out of the businesses on either side, their outer walls bowing under the pressure. Your apartment on the top floor is demolished, the roof caving in, flames licking at the the collapsed floors.

You gasp one long, shuddering breath, taking it all in, and then you’re running, sort of, picking your way through hunks of concrete and twisted metal.

“Emilio! Emilio!”

Your voice is hoarse, the world hushed. Nothing sounds quite right. Your legs are shaking and you can’t catch your breath. Some of the rubble is hot to the touch, and you feel like you’re moving underwater, slow and awkward and stupid.

You approach what’s left of the store, and the smell hits you first. Like cooked meat - charred, greasy, heavy.

You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream.

You found Emilio. He’s pinned beneath part of the collapsed roof. You look away quickly, but not before you catch a glimpse of blackened flesh, of bone, blood, and pink frothy tissue.

Acid rises in your throat, and you stumble to your knees, stomach clenching painfully into your ribs as you vomit onto the street. It goes on and on, over and over for an eternity, tears and snot and bile and ash leaking mingled down your face until there is nothing left in you to expel.

The encroaching wail of a siren draws you to your senses. You glance up, suddenly painfully aware of your situation. The ceiling is arching above you, just to your right, and it’s creaking ominously. The fires are still burning, and your shirt is clinging painfully hot against your back. You stagger to your feet once again, dizzy, almost drunkenly. A small crowd has gathered, pointing and gawking, calling out to you in Spanish that you are far, far too overwhelmed to translate.

Gasping, you raise your hands and side-step away, careful of the debris that litters the street around you.

A firetruck arrives on the scene, squalling to a stop between you and the onlookers, and you leap at the opportunity, ducking down the nearest alleyway before anybody can follow.

♠

You aren’t sure how much time you waste in the alleyways of Bogotá.

Seconds?

Minutes?

The time after the explosion is all a blur, and you run until you literally can’t anymore, until you’re doubled over and wheezing, coughing, hacking, panting.

Some primal survival instinct clicks in your brain then, and suddenly, your mind is clear. You glance around, swiping at your cheeks and brushing the ash from your shirt.

Now what?

You take a shaking breath and think.

Okay, first order of business, you’re absolutely disgusting. You need a shower before you can even think about doing anything productive.

Your bathroom just went up in flames, along with all of your clothes. Your heart clenches as you think of Ana - she’s at university, so that’s out. The embassy has a nice bathroom, but no showers that you’re aware of.

There’s only one place you know to go, and that’s Javi’s apartment.

You glance up at the sky. The sun is still pretty low - it can’t have been more than an hour since you’d left work, and that was around seven am. Javi obviously isn’t home, and you don’t have a key, but if you hurry, there’s still a chance that you could catch Murphy before he leaves his flat.

It’s a long shot, but you decide there’s nothing to lose for trying.

#Javier Peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #javi x you #javi x reader #javier pena x reader #narcos netflix #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña imagine #pedro fandom #the rules of engagement #better love #angst #slow burn #friends to lovers #hurt/comfort #smut

362 notes · View notes

a-vintage-snake · 3 years

Text

Don’t Make Me Be The Bad Guy

Pairing(s): Pre-romantic Moceit

Warnings: Dystopian future, implied torture

Characters: Janus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders

Summary: After seven years of fighting, Patton and his superhero team finally capture the super villain known as Deceit. But when Patton discovers evidence that sheds a new light on their nemesis he starts to wonder... Did he do the right thing?

Word Count: 9411

Author’s Note: For @dramaticsnakes, who’s a wonderful reader and writer. And special thanks to @rainbowbutterfrosting who helped me finish this when I almost wanted to give up. (Also, as always I upload and edit the mistakes out after, so bear with me)

Read on AO3

In the end, it had been Patton who had struck the final blow.

It had been mostly a matter of luck, really. One moment where Patton managed to break through the henchmen’s defences. One moment where he saw that their nemesis’ back was turned to him. One moment where he made a split decision.

One moment. And that moment had made all the difference.

He didn’t quite realize he had thrown one of his famous lightning bolts until it hit square between his enemy’s shoulder blades. He stood there, paralyzed, as Janus Lyre (alias Doctor Deceit) crumbled to the floor. The battle around them grounded to a halt as well, as the henchmen saw their leader unconscious at the feet of their enemies. His teammates froze as well, looking up at Patton in gaping disbelief.

When time finally seemed to start again, everything went by in a blur. The henchmen managed to escape, unfortunately with the super weapon Patton and his team had come to destroy. But it didn’t even seem to matter.

“By Odin’s beard, Padre!” Roman lifts him up in a hug. “You did it!!”

“I… I did?” Patton confusedly asks, still feeling a little dizzy.

“You got him! You actually got him!” Roman puts him back on his feet with a giant grin on his face. “We can finally put him away!” “But the weapon-!”

“Forget the weapon! We’ve got the bastard, Heart!” Virgil grins. “After seven years we finally got him! It’s over!”

“Well, not exactly,” Logan pipes in, although he can’t seem to stop grinning too. “There’s still the matter of rounding up the rest of his organization-”

“Technical details, my friend!” Roman dramatically waves Logan’s objections away. “We got their leader! Not a henchman, not some lackey, their actual leader! How long do you think until their little League of Losers falls apart?”

“Even so,” Logan says. “Better not celebrate until Doctor Deceit is safely behind bars. You three search the building. Who knows, maybe some of his henchmen are still hiding somewhere,” Logan throws a scornful look down at the unconscious Janus at their feet. “I will stay here and stand guard.”

“Ah yes, I was just about to suggest that!” Roman says as he flips his hair proudly. “Great intuition, Nerdy and the Brain!”

“Yes, sounds like a good plan!” Patton quickly squeaks as Logan gains a look that says he’s about a minute away from using his telekinesis to throw Roman across the room. “How about you call in our superiors, Logan? We need to put this villain behind bars!”

“Excellent idea, Heart Shock.” Logan says gratefully, while ignoring Roman’s protesting noises. Roman loved making the calls on jobs well done (which to be fair hadn’t occurred often lately).

“Great!” Patton grabs the hand of the still protesting Roman and pulls him along. “Come on Prince!”

Roman pouts and grumbles, but allows Patton to pull him further into the dark lair. He catches a glimpse of Virgil’s grin before he turns a corner.

“Bet you I can find something cool before you do!” Patton smiles up at Roman. His teammate’s grumpy face instantly brightens.

“Oh, you’re on Padre!”

Dissolving into giggles Patton and Roman run down the halls. Roman could easily outfly him, yet he chooses to run alongside Patton for now. Giddily Patton runs towards a promising looking door at the end of the hallway.

Throwing it open he however sags in disappointment as the room they found only holds a couple cardboard boxes.

“Bah, nothing of importance,” Roman says as he kicks over the boxes and nothing but rusty spare mechanical parts fall out. “I suppose even villains need a trash cupboard. Come Heart!” Roman levitates from the ground. “Let us find something more dastardly!”

Before Patton can say anything Roman flies out of the room. Judging from the clanging sounds he’s already searching in a room further ahead. Patton casts one last glance around the room before he shrugs and turns to follow.

He pauses.

Uncertainly he turns around again. Something about the room doesn’t feel… Right. He knows it, yet he can’t put his finger on it why exactly. His powers crackle in his veins, sensing the off-ness in the air.

Cautiously Patton walks around the room, circling the walls slowly with one hand trailing amongst the bricks. The sense of wrongness only increases until…

In front of a seemingly bare wall he stops. There it is. He feels an unusual amount of electricity clustering behind the stone, yet the wall shows no outer signs of being anything else than… Well, a wall. Curiously Patton puts both his hands on the bricks and closes his eyes.

The world behind his eyelids lights up in bursts of electricity. His power hums in tune with the wires inside the walls, stringing all over the building and mapping out the lair in his mind’s eye in perfect detail. Patton only takes short notice of it before he calls his powers back and focuses it all on the wall before him. Yes, there it was. His powers outline a door in the wall, carefully hidden behind a buzzing security system.

Well, no match for him! Patton only needs to concentrate for a few seconds to have the electricity revert and change directions. Flexing his fingers and furrowing his brow he wills the electricity to move into the opposite direction, to change their route, until finally he hears a click. Patton opens his eyes. He pulls his hands back as the wall shifts and a door opens, so seamlessly hidden in the brick it was invisible to the bare eye. Patton allows himself a proud grin. Oh, he was on a roll today! Patton steps into the room, his footsteps echoing in the darkness. He searches for a light switch, but he can’t find one nearby. No matter! With a soft snap small lightning bolts dance on his fingers, revealing rich red walls which somehow complimented the flickering lightning in his hands.

The room is mostly bare, apart from a table in the centre of the room. It’s covered with various maps, some showing population size while others showing outlines of cities, roads and shops. There were some pencils and pens in the middle of the table, most sharp and pointed while a few were so dull that they couldn't be used anymore.

Patton noticed only one chair at the table. He only looked at it, remembering the times were Logan lectured him about not touching the crime scene unless absolutely necessary. Still, the chair seemed comfortable, the black leather clearly in great condition.

His eyes drift slightly downwards towards the cabinets under the table. They all looked the same to him, a spruce colour with a silver handle that could be pulled out. He crouches as he tries to pull open the drawer without ruining the possibility of getting fingerprints. What kind of horrors would he find in there? Knowing Janus it was probably something awful, like torture devices, or puppets of them with their eyes crossed out, or… Or…

Not able to take it any longer, Patton pulls open the drawer. He draws back, covering his face with his arms and waiting for poisonous darts or something to strike out and hit him. After a few seconds of nothing happening, Patton carefully peeks over his arms.

Inside the drawer... is just files. No cyanide, no razor-sharp knives, just... files. Patton lowers his arms and opens the one next to it, with more haste than the last one, only to find more files. Huh… That’s… Not what he was expecting? He honestly didn't know what he expected to find. It's not like the files were bad to find, it just didn't give him the rush of putting in the last piece to a puzzle. Capturing Janus almost felt like that. He knew he should have been more proud of himself, but this wasn't even close to the end of it. There still were all of Janus' accomplices and the propaganda he spread throughout several cities to take care of after all. Maybe the files had the names of his accomplices in them?

Forgetting Logan’s warning about contaminating the crime scene Patton grabs one of the files from the drawer and absentmindedly flips it open.

A scream echoes across the halls. Patton jerks up, forgetting the papers in his hand as the sound of struggle trail toward him. He jumps up, stuffs the files in his jacket before he runs back to where they left their enemy tied up.

It appears that backup had arrived, and in that same time their enemy had woken up. Several soldiers struggle with restraining a livid Janus, who trashes in their grip as they try to drag him into an awaiting prison van. They had managed to gag him before he woke, a muzzle strapped to his face to protect the soldiers from the venom of both his words and his fangs. He fights wildly, but in the end he is still one man against too many. As they finally wrestle him to the ground to clap him in handcuffs, he and Patton make eye contact.

Despite that he just knocked the man unconscious, despite that Janus is currently lying on the ground restrained by ten men, Patton instinctively takes a step back from the pure fury in those mismatched eyes.

Janus looks at him like he singlehandedly doomed the world.

One soldier pushes a taser onto his neck. Janus’ eyes roll back in his head as he convulses on the ground, muffled cries coming from behind the muzzle. When the taser withdraws Janus slumps to the ground, unconscious once more. Finally the soldiers can drag him into the prison van.

“Haha, yes!!” Roman yells. “You shall taste justice now, villain!”

Roman laughs, but it is only when the doors of the van close and they drive off that Patton feels like he can breathe again.

The press conferences were always Patton’s least favourite part. To stand next to their CEO, listening to a briefing of yet another failed mission while the people in the crowd shook their head in disapproval had always been torture. The longer the years went on the worse the pressure to actually defeat their villain became. To come back to the cameras every time Janus escaped became worse and worse as the years went on. The disappointment of not only the AEP, but of the people… That alone felt worse than any punch he had ever gotten in battle.

Now however Patton felt like he could just burst from all the excitement. He could barely stand still enough for his stylists to brush his hair into a tamer shape. He peeked behind the curtains to the gilded ballroom beyond. The AEP had chosen this specific ballroom to announce the big news on purpose. Just two years ago Janus and his horrid crew had crashed a fundraiser being held here and had stolen all the people’s so graciously donated funds for a new hotel. They hadn’t been able to capture him. It had been an awful night!

To be here again was to show that villain they were not afraid. That they could claim back the spaces he so rudely invaded. Seeing all the people in their beautiful evening gowns and best jewellery now made Patton want to burst out from behind the curtain to yell at them that they were safe!! He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, wanted to yell at the entire world!

You are safe! We rescued you! I defeated the villain, I did, I did-!!

“Here are our heroes of the day!”

Distracted Patton looks back to see their CEO has come backstage. Bentley Ceund is a man in his late fifties, with a bleach blond hair dye job that does not quite hide away his grey roots, as always dressed in a stylishly expensive suit. He was the one who had founded the AEP, or An Endless Peace organization, all those years ago. Yet outside of press conferences they did not see him often. And even when they did, it were often meetings filled with harsh words and bitter disappointment.

“Have I wasted all my money on THIS?!” Their CEO had bellowed at them the last time they had seen him, when Janus had destroyed several important construction sites. “On FAILURES who can’t even capture ONE MEASLY MAN?!” Angry spit had hit Patton in the face as he struggled to hold back tears when Bentley had moved in close and screamed in their faces. “You’re a fucking EMBARRESEMENT to ME and the company who RAISED YOU FROM BIRTH!! UNGRATEFUL, WORTHLESS WASTES OF TIME!!”

Their TV and leisure time privileges had been taken away from them for quite some time back then.

That screaming man from last time was a far cry from the smiling one that approaches them now however. No, he in fact gives the others a joyful hug and praise. Roman and Logan beam, and even Virgil smiles hesitantly. When he turns to him Patton nervously fidgets for a moment, but Bentley gives him the possibly the grandest smile out of all of them.

“Heart Shock!” Bentley laughs as he draws Patton into a hug. He never uses their real names, even though he knew them by those well before their superhero names. “Well done, my boy!”

“T-Thank you sir!” Patton says excitedly, almost melting into the hug despite the overwhelming smell of body spray. He can’t help it. It wasn’t often he was the one who got most of the praise. That was usually either Logan or Roman. “I couldn’t have done it without the others though-!”

“No need to be so modest,” Bentley draws back from the hug, put keeps his hands on Patton’s shoulder. “I’ve read the report. You are the one shot down that son of a bitch!

“Oh, well,” Patton flusters. “Anyone could have done it-!”

But in the end it was you.” Their CEO chuckles, almost fondly. “Be proud of yourself, son. Thanks to you…” Bentley pats him on the shoulder. “The company is safe again.” “And the innocent civilians, sir!” Patton helpfully says.

“Hmm? Oh yes, those too I suppose.”

Patton frowns lightly, but before he can say anything Bentley’s PA interrupts.

“Mister Ceund? The program is about to begin.”

“Ah, yes! It’s time boys!” Bentley grins towards his superheroes. “Let’s tell the world what we have achieved today!” He gives Patton a pat on his cheek before he turns and walks to the curtains, waiting for the moment to make his grand entrance. Patton frowns, but he doesn’t have the time to think for long. Their CEO walks onto the stage where thunderous applause greets him. Eventually Patton just shrugs and stands with his teammates, dismissing the uncomfortable thoughts.

As the applause slowly grows to a halt, Bentley takes centre stage. “Today is a momentous occasion,” He says into the microphone. “After seven years of making our streets unsafe, the villain known as Doctor Deceit has finally been put behind bars!”

The crowd erupts into applause, filling the gilded ballroom with cheers and cameras flashing. Beside him Virgil flinches from the sudden noise. Patton discretely slips his hand into Virgil’s and squeezes. Virgil gives a grateful squeeze back.

“Today, history has been made. Today this organization has finally achieved that which we have promised you, all those years ago…” Their CEO pauses for a second, before proudly continuing. “An Endless Peace.”

The crowd applauds again, laughing politely at the reference of the company name.

“But of course, we did not do it alone!”

Patton and the others took a deep breath. Right. Time for the show!

“Please welcome your heroes! Here is Prince Charming!”

On that cue Roman flies up from behind the curtains and the crowd erupts into cheers. Roman flies his usual round over the crowd, occasionally sharing a high-five with an audience member and flashing his fans a million-dollar smile. Several men and women giggle and blush behind their hands as he flips his hair and blows kisses to the crowd.

“Show-off…” Virgil silently scoffs beside him.

“Come now, Virge,” Patton whispers back. “You know Roman loves the cameras! Let him have his fun.”

Virgil rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but still a fond smile curls up his lips.

“Next, give it up for Brain Teaser!”

Logan purses his lips and sighs, but makes his entrance from behind the curtains anyway. Virgil and Patton exchange a knowing look. They’d listened to plenty of Logan’s rants about how ‘utterly illogical’ the serious man thought his superhero name was. Unfortunately the public was by now too familiar with the name to even suggest renaming him.

“Let me hear you for Stormcloud!”

Virgil supresses a shudder yet he still reluctantly dematerializes, only to rematerialize on stage in a cloud of shadows. While the crowd only grows in volume Patton winces in sympathy. The EAP knows how much Virgil can’t stand loud sounds, but for the audience he has to bear it with a smile. It was a weakness their enemies had exploited frequently. Janus would often blast high-pitched noises at such a volume Virgil would crumble where he stood, allowing him to escape over and over.

Well, Patton thinks with a tinge of pride, he won’t harm his friends ever again now.

“And of course, last but certainly not least… The man of the hour! The hero who struck the deciding blow! Put your hands together for HEART SHOCK!”

The curtains are drawn and Patton is momentarily blinded from the hundreds of cameras flashing and deafened by the crowd cheering. Squinting Patton stands in the spotlight, dizzily smiling at the onslaught of praise that is directed his way. He walks forward- Although it feels like stumbling is a better word- to the front of the stage to where the CEO waits for him with a smile. Journalists crowd the stage as they shout questions.

“Heart Shock!! Heart Shock, over here-!”

“Heart Shock, how do you feel-?”

“What was going through your head?”

“How did you take the villain down? We want all the juicy details-!”

“Everyone, everyone! Please!” Bentley laughs. “One question at a time, please!”

Patton yelps as Bentley puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into a side hug like he’s a proud father. The cameras around them go nuts as their CEO smiles and poses with Patton.

“How are you feeling, Heart Shock?” One journalist manages to yell over the cacophony of questions.

“W-Well…” Patton stammers into the microphone. “I-I feel quite proud-!”

“A well deserved pride, my boy!” Bentley says jovially as he squeezes his shoulder.

“Yeah… I suppose it is-!” Patton smiles.

“Heart Shock! How do you think the villain will react to his status as prisoner?” One journalist yells, a question that is met with gaudy giggles.

“I guess…” Patton says with hesitant excitement. “He’ll find it…” He snaps his fingers, lightning dancing over his hands as he finger guns at the audience. “Quite shocking?”

To Patton’s bewildered delight the entire audience erupts into laughs. Even Bentley next to him laughs, while he had always disapprovingly glared before when Patton made a pun. Patton can’t stop the grin that spreads on his face even if he had wanted to.

The rest of the evening goes by in a haze. As the press conference part of the evening ends and the superheroes must mingle with the guests, the praise just keeps on coming. Patton gets patted on the back, hugged and complimented. The sheer amount of attention is dizzying. Patton can’t stop smiling throughout all of it. It might just be the best evening in his life.

It isn’t until he’s in bed, still glowing with pride and from all the praise, that Patton remembers the files in his jacket.

His superhero jacket lays thrown into a corner, cast aside earlier as he quickly got into a clean, more sleek version of his hero outfit for the press conference. Giving it a glance from where he sits on his bed he’s almost tempted to leave it until next morning. His handlers had actually given him hot chocolate and two cookies before bed! Two!! That was a treat he didn’t often get! He just wants to enjoy them in peace.

Still… Perhaps he could hand them over tomorrow, announcing all the wicked plans that are undoubtedly in the files that he had also stopped when he captured Janus. Grinning at that mental image Patton gets up from and retreats back into his comfy bed with the files, munching on a cookie as he lazily starts skimming through the papers.

An hour later his hot chocolate has long run cold and the second cookie lies forgotten on its tray. Patton sits straight up in his bed, the files open on his knees and his gaze firmly locked on the wall in front of him. His first cookie feels like lead in his stomach.

It couldn’t be the truth… It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be!!

Abruptly coming back into motion Patton stuffs the files under his mattress and turns off the light to sleep, determined not to even consider or think about what is in them anymore. Yet it takes him until the first rays of dawn to finally fall asleep, and even when he does sleep his dreams are filled with mismatched eyes that look at him with a gaze that burns, burns, burns…

During the days of the week that follows he’s fine. He can smile and take the praise that he’s still showered with daily, with the files only a distant memory.

During the nights, however… Patton can’t seem to shake the image of those eyes. Furious, loathing mismatched eyes, looking at him like he singlehandedly doomed the world. The files underneath his mattress seem to burn a hole in his soft bedding, demanding his attention.

It is only a week later when he awakens from yet another nightmare plagued by those accusing eyes that Patton realizes this can’t go on. He has to know what it all means, or he might go mad with the questions that swarm his mind.

The next night Patton foregoes his bed in favour of slipping out of his room into the quiet halls of the facility, the files tucked away in his jacket. Sweat beads down his forehead, the familiar thrum of electricity inside the walls only a faint comfort. Although he only needs to make the barest effort to make the security cameras divert from him, the action still makes his hands shake. As he sneaks into the elevator at the end of the hall he inspects the buttons. You need a special pass to go to the very lowest level. But Patton only needs to send a pulse of electricity into the elevator to make the security system think he’s been granted access. As the doors close Patton swallows. No going back now.

The elevator ride feels both too long and too short. When finally the doors glide open to reveal a long hall Patton fastens his pace. He passes other closed cells, some of which he hears murmurs from behind their closed doors, but he does not slow down until he reaches the door at the very end of the hall. Door 409… Holding the highest level of security prison cell they have.

He glances backwards for a second, before he takes a deep breath and places his hands on the door. He feels the electricity answering as he redirects the flow. It’s hard. Harder than the vault in the lair, harder than tricking the elevator had been. Sweat starts to bead on his forehead, as he carefully has to divert his powers through layer upon layer of security, careful in case he triggers an alarm somewhere.

He isn’t quite sure how much time passes, but at long last the door finally, finally opens. Patton enters, and quickly slides the door closed again. His heart hammers in his throat as he presses his hands to the door and listens for the sound of the alarm going off.

It doesn’t come. He had done it. Exhaling a shaky breath Patton leans his forehead against the metal door, cooling his flushed skin.

“Well, well, well,” A smooth voice drawls behind him. “Look what the cat dragged in…”

Patton’s shoulders tense. He had hoped to never hear that voice again. A part of him is tempted to leave, but the files pressed against his chest still burn. So he gathers all his courage and slowly turns around.

The cell in the middle of the room is a monstrosity of glass and metal, bare apart from a simple bed. The security system surrounding it buzzes with the sheer amount of electricity it needs, making it dizzying even to Patton. It is only a small distraction however from the person all that electricity is holding prison, standing in the middle of that glass cell with his arms crossed at his back. Like he had been expecting him.

“My sincerest apologies for the mess. I wasn’t expecting such important company,” Janus grins. “Should I feel honoured that the famed Heart Shock is visiting little old me in my cell?”

Patton swallows. He had hoped that the villain would have been less frightening now, pulled away from his usual shadows and dragged into the light for once. He wasn’t. If anything the simple white prison grubs he wore instead of his usual black suits and the bright LED lightning only enhances how alien, how otherworldly he really is. The green scales trailing down his sharp face, the fangs glistening in that all too familiar mocking grin, the tall willowy frame that nonetheless packs a surprising amount of strength… The man in front of him is more monster than human. Patton wonders for a second if he ever was human to begin with.

“Oh, look at you,” Janus chuckles softly as the silence between them stretches on. “Like a frightened little mouse in the snake’s den… Whatever will he do now?”

Patton puffs out his chest indignantly. “I’m not afraid of you!” He says, ignoring how Janus raises an eyebrow with an amused smile. “I’m not! You have no power here! You’re our prisoner!”

“Really?” Janus mockingly drawls. “Well, pardon me for not believing you whilst you look like that.”

Patton belatedly realizes what kind of picture he paints. Pressed up against the door, as far away from the glass as he possibly can. Not exactly the fearless superhero everyone expected him to be.

Closing his eyes for a second, Patton takes a deep breath and steps forward. Cautiously he approaches the cell, his footsteps in sync with Janus’ until they both halt at the glass, right in front of each other. Patton stares up at his nemesis, more confident than he feels. Right into the mismatched eyes who have haunted his nightmares for almost a week now. He swallows, clenching his fist to hide that they’re shaking.

“While I’m definitely thrilled to have you here,” Janus smirks down at him. “I’m afraid I’m a very busy man, and don’t have time to have a staring contest with you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Patton opens his mouth to ask what the heck he would be busy with, he’s a prisoner, but stops himself. That’s a discussion that would lead him nowhere, and he came here with a purpose.

“I’m here to talk with you.” He says instead.

“Congratulations, you just did,” Janus yawns, a forked tongue lazily flicking out from between sharp fangs. “If that was all, darling-”

“No! I mean-” Patton zips open his jacket and pulls out the files. “I’m here to talk about these.”

Janus’ eyes narrow when he spots the files, the only outward reaction he shows. Yet the temperature between them seems to drop to freezing level.

“I’ve never seen those before in my life.” Janus says airily.

“I found them in your lair!” Patton counters. “In a hidden compartment in the wall!”

“Did you now? How interesting.” Janus lazily inspects his fingernails. Patton frowns as he spots Janus’ left arm is completely wrapped up in white bandages. He can’t recall that they gave him an arm injury. He opens his mouth to ask, but shakes his head. He had to focus on this.

“These are your plans!”

“No they’re not.”

“Oh yeah?” Patton flips open the files. “Then how do you explain your name on top of these papers?”

“Can I help it that ‘Janus’ is such a popular name?”

“These are all written in your handwriting!”

“Preposterous. My handwriting is much neater.”

“All your old plans are in this, and some future ones!” Patton shouts exasperatedly.

“Pure coincidence.”

“Stop,” Patton grits out through clenched teeth. “Stop denying! I know these are yours!”

“If you’re so sure, why ask me at all?” Janus disinterestedly brushes away some invisible dust from his shoulder. “Why haven’t you immediately shown them to your superiors, like the good obedient lackey that you are?”

“Who says that I haven’t?” Patton responds heatedly.

With a growl Janus suddenly throws a fist against the glass, his eyes flashing dangerously. Patton jumps backwards, his throat squeezing shut before a startled scream can escape him.

“Don’t. Lie. To me.” Janus spits. “If you had shown them, you wouldn’t be here chatting with me in the middle of the night. Admit it.”

“I… No.” Patton finally shakes his head, gripping the files tightly between his hands. “No, I didn’t…”

“There we go…” Janus draws his hand back and crosses his arms again behind his back, his easy smile back. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Heart Shock. Have your masters never told you it’s bad to lie?”

Patton bites his lip. It was true that he’d be in so much trouble if his superiors ever found out that he lied. But surely they would understand him lying to their enemy, wouldn’t they?

“You’re one to talk!” Patton says instead. “You lie all the time!”

“Says who?” Janus drawls with a mocking smile.

“Says me! You lied every time we fought, you just lied multiple times to my face-!”

“No I didn’t.”

“-And you lie in these files!!” Patton shrieks, waving the files in front of the villain’s nose. Janus’ smile falls and his face darkens.

“Oh? Pray tell, Patton.” Janus sneers, and Patton snaps back in shock at hearing his actual name coming from the villain’s mouth.

“H-How did you-?”

“Why exactly would you think I lied in these files?” Janus tilts his head. “If I wrote them, that is.”

“Because... Because-!” Patton flips angrily through the files. “Because these files say you used the money you stole from the hotel fundraiser two years ago to finance black market medication research!”

The hero looks up triumphantly, expecting Janus to laugh and simper about how gullible he is for believing such an obvious decoy. Janus however doesn’t laugh. He shows not even a hint of his mockery as he silently listens. Patton’s triumph falters, and he flips once more through the files to avoid that calm gaze.

“A-And here!” Patton pulls another paper from the file. “In here you claim that you kidnapped the scientist Emile Picani because the AEP made him design weapons, not new mental health robots!”

Still no response. Patton scowls as he holds up another paper. “This says you destroyed a construction site for a new factory because the output would pollute the town’s only water resource!”

“They were also exploiting the builders,” Janus finally interrupts. “Forced them to work under horridly unsafe conditions for barely a quarter of the salary they needed to support their families.”

“Yes!!” Patton throws the files down with frustrated force, making the papers fly everywhere. “You… You… You keep lying in these files, making us appear like the bad guys! Is this what you tell the people? To brainwash them into joining your stupid little gang?”

“Me? Brainwashing? HA!” Janus shakes his head. “That’s a laugh and a half…”

“I’m onto you, Deceit!” Patton proudly puffs out his chest. “I see right through your tricks!”

“Oh, of course you do,” Janus smiles down at him like he’s a child who just badly solved a puzzle game. “Nothing gets past you. Truly, I’m so impressed.”

Patton’s certainty wanes. Villains who just got their plans exposed should look angry, not like they’re secretly laughing at you.

“Well, if you’re done spouting wild accusations, would you mind closing the door behind you?” Janus stretches his arms above him. “I want to get my eight hours of sleep in before I get thrown into the next torture session tomorrow, thank you very much.”

“Torture-? Oh, haha, very funny!”

“Not joking, unfortunately-”

“Why do you do this??” Patton has to resist to stomp his feet in frustration. “Why do you keep on lying?”

Janus lowers his arms, his smile falling away. “I don’t.” He says. The seriousness of his voice throws Patton off, but even so he scoffs.

“Yes, you do!”

“I really don’t. There’s not a single word in those files that isn’t the honest truth.”

“Yeah, right,” Patton crosses his arms. “Tell that to the people outside! Or to my superiors!”

“Oh, by all means, bring them in,” Janus says seriously. “Bring them all in! Your precious masters, all my supposed victims… I think you’ll find that they’ll all agree with my side of the story.”

Patton opens and closes his mouth a few times, uncertainly. The rigid seriousness of the other makes him more nervous than he hopes he lets on. He was so used to the dangerously charming smooth talking Janus that he had no idea what to do with this calm, somber Janus. Oh, why hadn’t he taken Logan with him? He would have known what to say!

“Oh really?” Patton eventually says, sounding more sure of himself than he actually was. “What exactly is ‘your side of the story’? Go ahead, I could use a laugh!”

“You want to know, little mouse?” Janus says, and just like that the dangerous smile was back. “You really want to know?”

Patton swallows, but tilts his chin up defiantly. “Yes.”

“Well, you asked for it…” Janus hums thoughtfully, gathering his thoughts for a second. “My side of the story is about how years ago a small company gained interest. Funded by the richest of the rich of the world this company created unwilling abominations. Children reared only to use as weapons to hold the world hostage. So that those richest of the rich could create a planet where the lowest of the low were forced to work for them. Leeching of the world’s natural resources like parasites, while the rest of us peasants suffer as a result. Of course, that was the system even before these children became their shiny new atom bombs, but now… Now they had safeguard. A safety net that ensured no one would ever dare to rebel against them. Well…” Janus smiles. “Almost no one…” Janus inspects his fingernails casually again. “Of course, to make sure they wouldn’t be bothered by such things as icky morals, they justify their actions by saying it was for the greater good! By saying this system created…” Janus raises an eyebrow at Patton. “An Endless Peace?”

A silence falls between them. Then Patton lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“Really? You think I’m going to believe that? I’m not dumb, you know!”

“Dumb, maybe not,” Janus shrugs. “Naïve, however…”

“I don’t believe you!” Patton says proudly.

“You were born and raised at AEP, weren’t you?” Janus asks. “Told from a young age you were born to be a superhero? To help people? Tell me Patton, have you ever been away from this building for anything else than superhero business? Or talked to anyone who isn’t approved by EAP first? Anyone at all?”

Patton tries to think of an answer, but comes up empty. “The people in this building protect me,” He answers instead. “Protect me from people like you, who would exploit my powers for evil!”

“Trust me honey, you’re not the one who needs protection out there…” Janus mutters.

“I don’t believe you.” Patton repeats, a bit more uncertain this time.

“Fine. Don’t then.” Janus shrugs. “I don’t need you to believe me for it to still be true.”

The absolute confidence in Janus’ voice infuriates Patton, anger bubbling up in his chest.

“EAP is a good company! We actually help people, unlike you!” Patton yells, now actually stomping his foot. “You stand there trying to tell me you’re so noble, when you have NO PROOF for anything you claim!!”

“Proof?” Janus growly lowly. “You want proof? Fine!” Angrily he grabs the edge of his bandages and starts unwrapping his arm. “I’ll give you proof!

Patton inhales a sharp breath as Janus unwraps the last bandages. His arm is completely raw and swollen, oozing with barely healed wounds. His stomach turns at the sight of angry deep black burns strewn over any flesh that got spared.

“They tore the scales off my arm,” His cool façade finally shows cracks as Janus’ voice shakes. “One by one they ripped them off my skin. Even when I finally talked they didn’t stop. They continued on until my arm was bare, and the iron they placed in the fire was white hot. That’s how I got these…” Hovering his fingers over one of the burns he swallows. “Obviously I told them old hiding places, long since abandoned. It will keep them busy for a while, but when they realize I’ve given them old information…” He rubs his jaw absentmindedly. “They said they would take my teeth next. Too bad... I’ve grown quite fond of my fangs.”

“They…” Patton shook his head, unable to tear his eyes away from Janus’ tortured arm. “They wouldn’t do this…”

Janus’ eyes turn cold, his collected mask back on. “Obviously, they did. Or do you think I would do this to myself to gain sympathy points with delusional so called ‘good guys’?”

“B-But-!! We are the good guys!! The people, they love us-!”

“Oh, please,” Janus rolls his eyes. “The only reason the ‘common’ folk sing your praises is because they’re too afraid that their ‘beloved rulers’ send you to destroy their homes next.”

“T-That-! That’s NOT true-!!”

“Do you know what they call your little ‘hero’ group outside of the little circle of rich assholes you protect?” Janus says with a nasty smile. “They call you ‘The Executioners’. Because the minute someone refuses to obey, to fall in line… They send you. To make sure the people know who’s in charge. To destroy any ounce of happiness they scraped up and make an example out of the corpses you and your friends leave behind in their wake!”

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!!” Patton shakes his head, covering his ears in a vain attempt to block out that damned smooth voice.

“Face it, kid. You’re no hero. No… You want to know what you are?” Janus continues on mercilessly. “You’re a tool. A sharpened axe the elite of the world hold over the necks of the common people, so they continue working as proper frightened little drones. Nothing like a good threat to keep their servants from revolting against them.”

“YOU’RE LYING!!” Patton screams as he throws his fists against the glass, the lights above them flickering in sync with his outcry. His powers bursts out of him with a force he hasn’t experienced since he was a kid. Electricity climbs over the glass cell in living lightning, framing the villain like a cursed portrait. But Janus barely blinks as the electricity crackles around him.

“If you are so sure that I’m lying… Why are you still here?” He asks thoughtfully. “Why come here at all if you truly think I lied in these files? Unless…” Janus says slowly, understanding dawning on his face. “Unless you’ve already seen the cracks in their pretty façade. Is that it?”

Just as quick as his power had acted up it retreats. “I… I… I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Patton stammers as he pulls his hands away from the glass, the bright glow of the electricity dying in his fingers. He steps back but Janus follows, like a shark that smells blood in the water.

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?” Janus breaths out a disbelieving laugh as he shakes his head. “When did you start to notice the holes in their logic? Started to taste the bitterness in their pretty lies? How long have the doubts been eating at you, Patton?”

“That’s not…” Patton starts weakly, but any other rebuttals wither and die before they can leave his mouth.

“You’ve seen glances of their true faces,” Janus continues. “And you hoped that I would what? Comfort you? Deny everything and let you wallow in your own self-denial? Be the so-called ‘villain’ you think I am so you can continue feeling good about yourself?” Janus chuckles, lowly, the sound wrapping around Patton’s throat like a noose. “Come now darling… Did you really think I was that kind of person?”

It distinctly feels like something inside him breaks. The pretty wall of his superhero persona crumbles and crashes down, leaving Patton with only the ugly truth that wall had kept hidden from him. The pride and praise of the past week now suddenly tastes like bitter ash in his mouth.

He hurt people. He hurt the world. He did he did he did he did he DID-!!

He can’t take any more. Patton’s legs give away beneath him as he crumbles in front of the glass, his chest heaving with sobs. Pulling his hands through his hair he buries his face in his knees, tears dripping down his cheeks. Janus says nothing while Patton’s sobs echo in the room. He only stares down at the shattered hero at his feet with a distant kind of satisfaction.

"What do I do...?" Patton eventually whispers when the tears finally slow. "What can I do to make this right…?"

Janus grins, kneeling down to look the hero straight in the eye.

"You could start," He purrs. "By getting me out of here."

Patton walks through the halls he’s walked through a thousand times. His heart hammers a mile a minute in his ears, almost deafening him. Yet it can’t keep him distracted from the person currently running after him, sticking out amongst the grey walls like a sore thumb in his bright white prison grubs. They halt at an intersection, pushing their backs against the wall and holding their breath as soldiers run past in the next hallway.

“I’m going to need your phone.” Janus suddenly whispers, making Patton bite back a yelp.

“I-I don’t have one-!” He stammers. Janus gives him a long-suffering look.

“I’m not surprised, yet somehow still disappointed.” Janus sighs as he impatiently moves past him. Just as Patton wants to ask what he’s planning, Janus darts out of the dark corridor, as quick and ruthless as the snake he is and grabs the last soldier in the platoon that passes them. He gives her no time to alert the others in front of her as Janus covers the soldier’s mouth, drags her back into their corridor and sinks his teeth into her neck.

“What are you doing?!” Patton hisses.

“Making sure we can get out of here!” Janus hisses back as he pulls his teeth from the soldier’s neck. The woman’s eyes are already drooping, despite her effort to raise her voice in alarm. By the time Janus lowers to the ground she has fully lost consciousness.

“You can’t do that!! She’s just doing her job!” Patton furiously whispers as Janus searches her pockets.

“Yeah, well, currently her job would be to shoot me on sight, so excuse me if I would rather not die!” Janus finally victoriously pulls a phone from the soldier’s pocket. Grabbing the soldier’s hand for a second to make her unlock the screen, he then furiously starts texting.

“What are you doing??” Patton repeats, just as frantic.

“Arranging our getaway ride, if all goes well,” Janus says as he finishes the text and hits send. “Now we just need to get out of here and keep hidden until they can come for us!”

“Right… Right!” Patton nods. Oh, why did he do this again?? “I know how we can get out of here! We’ll have to follow-!”

“Patton?”

Patton freezes at that familiar voice. Turning he comes face to face with Virgil, wrapped in his favourite hoodie and sleepily rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. How could he have forgotten his teammate’s insomnia? Or his habit to wander around until he got sleepy??

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Virgil yawns. “Do you want a lecture from Logan about proper sleep schedules? Because trust me, they’re not very-”

Virgil freezes as Janus rises to his feet behind Patton. His eyes dart between him and Janus, gasping as he finally spots the unconscious soldier on the ground.

“You…” Virgil’s voice turns dark, the shadows behind him moving on his unspoken command. “I don’t know how the FUCK you got out, but you will step away from my teammate RIGHT NOW and get back to your cell, or you’ll regret it!”

“No thank you,” Janus smirks. “While I thoroughly enjoyed your hospitality, the room service here is positivelyabominable. Not to mention the horrid excuse you call cuisine. I don’t think I’ll return here soon.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that!” Virgil growls, gathering his famous shadows in his hands.

“Virgil, NO!!” Patton screams and steps between the two before Virgil can throw his attack.

“Patton, get out of the way!”

Patton shakes his head. “No! You have to let us pass, Virge!”

“What do you mean-?” Virgil stops, furious disbelief etching across his face. “…It was you… You helped him escape-!”

“I…” Patton swallows and nods. “Yes, yes I did… But Virgil-! It’s not what you think! We’ve been lied to, Virge!”

“Yes, by HIM!!” Virgil points at Janus, who wiggles his fingers in a mocking wave. “You know, the enemy that we’ve tried to capture for literal years??”

“No, not him! The AEP! They’re the ones who lied to us! They’ve been using us, Virge! They used us to… To attack innocent people! We’ve hurt the world instead of saving it! We have to set this right!!”

“What the hell are you talking about-??”

“Virgil, please,” Grabbing Virgil’s hands in his Patton gives his teammate- No, his best friend- a pleading look. “Come with us! Help me take down the organization! They’re the bad guys, Virge! It was never him!” Patton gestures to Janus.

“Oh that’s fine, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus mutters.

“We can fix this, Virgil. You and I!” Patton says, fragile hope growing in his voice. “Please, trust me on this! Let’s run away together from this place and actually help!”

Virgil stares at him, the tense silence stretching on in the hallway like a wire slowly growing taut. Virgil’s eyes flicker between him and Janus indecisively. Patton hopes for a brief second that maybe, just maybe-

His stomach drops when Virgil’s gaze remains on Janus, and just like that the wire snaps.

“You…” Virgil snarls. “I don’t know what lies you fed him-”

“Virgil, please no-!!” Patton pleads, but Virgil shoves him aside.

“But I will not let you get away with it!” The shadows behind him move again, answering their master’s call as they gather around him. “I will take you down for this!!”

“Must we?” Janus sighs exaggeratedly before he straightens himself and grins his lengthening fangs bare. “I suppose I have time in my busy schedule to teach you some manners, Stormcloud.”

Virgil growls and aims his hands towards Janus, the shadows behind him brewing and moving in dark colours without hesitation. Patton doesn't think. Later on he wishes he had. He doesn’t remember moving, yet he sees his hand grab onto the back of Virgil's neck. He doesn't want to see the sparks fly out of his hand, making the Virgil’s body go rigid before promptly becoming weak in his grasp. But it doesn’t matter what Patton wants, as Virgil's body hits the floor with a thud quieter than it should've been.

Paralyzed Patton makes eye contact with Janus over Virgil’s unmoving form. The other man stares at him dumbfounded, uncertainty and shock fighting for the same place on his eyes. Patton looks down, trembling.

Oh god what had he done.

For the second time that evening Patton felt his knees give way beneath him as he fell next to his friend.

“Virge…” Patton whispers, pained regret shaking in his voice.

“Patton-!” Janus walks up to him, putting his hands on his shoulders but Patton barely feels it.

“I’m s-so sorry-!!” Patton sobs over his friend’s unconscious body.

“Patton.” Janus says, his voice so calm that Patton’s muddled mind readily clings to it. “We have to get out of here. Now.”

“I-I c-can’t j-just leave him h-here-!!”

“You must. The commotion must have alerted someone. This place might be crawling with guards soon. We have to go.”

Patton looks up in Janus’ eyes, their mismatched colours strangely grounding him and he nods. Janus helps him to his feet, and after one last look towards Virgil, Patton turns and they run.

Much later Patton would look back on this night and barely remember their escape. He leads Janus through the facility on automatic pilot, only managing to avoid capture because of Janus’ vigilance and sharp hearing. In the end Janus has to take out only one additional guard, who had been watching the emergency exit that Patton had lead them too. This soldier went down much easier than the first one. Patton supposed he hadn’t expected anyone to come to the quiet, halfway forgotten exit. But how could Patton forget it? He and Virgil had used this door as kids to escape from training once in a while.

Virgil…

Janus hastily runs through the emergency exit with Patton closely following behind. The cold night air finally shakes Patton's mind awake, away from the phantom feeling of Virgil's neck and how his hand tingles slightly. He almost wishes the tingle hurt.

They run loudly on the pavement, aiming for speed over secrecy. Patton’s breath comes in heavy pants and his lungs prickle, yet he dares not to stop or to look back. When they reach the high fence it takes Patton’s every bit of concentration to stop the electricity singing in the fence, guiding it away from Janus as they climb over it.

The sirens start as they safely land on the other side of the fence.

With the alarms blaring behind them Patton follows Janus to where the concrete leads into worn-in dirt, and where that leads to sticks, leaves, and not many traces of society. Patton's breath hurt in his chest, but knows he can't stop for a moment. He doesn't bother looking behind him either.

After what feels like hours but were more likely minutes, Janus skids to a halt, his breath forming clouds in the cold air as he leans heavily against a tree. Patton leans his hands on his knees, catching his breath. In the distance the alarms continue blaring.

“D-Do…” Patton gulps, exhales. “Do you think we’re safe…?”

Janus looks at him. “I don’t know…” He says, and Patton hates the raw honesty he hears in his voice. He suddenly much prefers the smooth lies his former enemy could spin at a drop of a hat. If they’re caught, he'll suffer Janus' previous fate or worse. Patton doesn't want to think about how it could get worse.

Just as he’s about to sit down, resigned to his new fate, a bright spotlight illuminates their spot in the forest. Patton can’t stop the startled scream as spots dance in his vision at the sudden brightness, the rumbling of an aircraft above them finally overpowering the sound of his wildly beating heart. They had found them already??? Or…

“Ahoy down there!” A nasally voice shouts down over the intercom as a rope is lowered from the aircraft. “Did some clown order a clown car??”

Patton puzzlingly frowns, but besides him Janus grins.

“Hold on, Heart Shock!” Janus grabs the rope with one hand and throws his other arm around Patton’s waist to hoist him up close. “Our ride is here!”

Before Patton can form some kind of protest the rope is hoisted up. A high-pitched shriek tears from his throat as the ground falls away beneath them. Patton never liked flying or heights in general. No matter how many times Roman took him for a flight he never got used to it. So he throws his arms and legs around Janus koala style and buries his face into the other man’s scaled neck. He dares not to peek as they dangle above the ground until he feels hands grab him and Janus. Excited voices ring in his ears as the hands drag them both into the aircraft. As they land on the metal floor with a heavy thud a blush creeps in on Patton’s cheeks when he untangles his arms and legs from Janus’ frame.

“Snake Daddy is in the nest!!” The same nasally voice shrieks over the roaring engines. “HIT THE GAS!! GO GO GO!!!”

The door behind them slams closed, and the aircraft flies off with a speed that throws Patton backwards, making an inelegant roll on the hard metal floor. Janus on the other hand sits up his knees, giving the man that runs up to them an exasperated look.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that?” Janus sighs. The man gives him a grin that makes his moustache curl up mischievously. Either Patton’s eyes are deceiving him, or the man resembles Roman to an uncanny degree.

“And I told you to get used to your new codename, Double-D!” The man joyfully says. “Deal with it!”

Janus rolls his eyes, but nonetheless grabs the hand stretched out to him. As he’s pulled to his feet Janus throws his arms around the other.

“Remus, you absolute insane wonderful man you,” Janus breathes shakily. “How the fuck did you get here so fast?”

“Are you kidding me??” Remus eagerly returns the embrace. “We’ve been hiding around here for five days now!”

“You what-” Janus reels back, grasping Remus by the shoulders “Why??”

“To rescue you, of course!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake- You promised that if I ever got captured you would continue where I left off! Not risk everything by trying to rescue me!”

“Yeah, well,” Remus shrugs. “You promised me that I would get to watch you use the president’s head as a football some day! And god fucking dammit, you are not getting out of that promise, no matter how hard you try!”

Patton flinches at the gruesome fantasy, but Janus only wetly laughs and draws Remus back into a hug. Over the whole aircraft relieved and excited voices ring, welcoming Janus back.

Amidst the excitement Remus halts as he finally spots Patton, who still sits quietly amongst the excited rebels.

“No fucking way…” Remus breathes. “You actually got us a hostage?”

Patton freezes. As all eyes turn to him, he suddenly remembers again that he’s surrounded by people he previously thought as his enemies. And to them, he still was the enemy.

"Double-D, you should've warned me you would bring a hostage! I would've brought the rougher rope with us!" Remus pulls away from the hug and quickly moves towards a container, which once opened Patton could see was full to the brim with rope of various colours, each appearing thick and rough enough as they were.

Janus dramatically sighed. "He’s not a hostage."

Remus stops rummaging through the container and quirks an eyebrow. "But Heart Attack or whatever is one of those stupid guys! Wait.” Remus squints suspiciously at Janus. “Don't tell me you're breaking up with me and joining his side."

“Not quite,” Janus says as he extends a hand to help Patton to his feet. As he stands Janus lightly places his arm over Patton's shoulders. A shield against the suspicious glares from the rebels around him. "You see, my darlings… He's joining ours."

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #moceit #janus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #superhero AU #eat the rich if this fic doesn't make that clear enough

73 notes · View notes

beewolfwrites · 3 years

Text

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twenty-Four: And the Rest is Silence

And this is it: the final chapter! It’s been insane, but this is the only fanfiction I've ever finished before, and it wouldn’t have happened without all the support. Thank you so much!! I didn’t think anyone would read this, but seeing everyone’s reactions to each chapter has kept me going :D

I’m sorry for the essay, but I’m aware I didn’t post anything about this in the AIB tag. Yes, there will be a sequel!

I need to read the manga properly before writing it, so I don’t know when the sequel will start. But in the meantime, there’ll be a series of Chishiya one-shots of his perspective, and there’ll even be scenes that weren’t in this fic, plus an original game!

For the full fanfic, you can find it here on AO3.

I’ll also be creating a master list, and I'll post the literature references after this for those who wanted them <3

Once again, thank you so much!! And I hope you enjoy this last chapter.

------------------------------------------------

By the time Kuina found us again, it was already late afternoon, and even though our visas had extended by ten days after the Witch Hunt game, there was something about the setting of the sun that felt foreboding.

We lit up the furniture shop with candles and changed into the clean clothes we’d collected. Seeing Chishiya wearing ordinary clothes felt strange. Aside from when we’d crossed paths in the Tag game, the entire time I’d known him he’d been wearing swim shorts and flip flops.

Now, he emerged from the bathroom wearing grey sweatpants and a variegated blue cardigan that suited him perfectly. When his eyes flickered to mine, I realised I’d been staring, and distracted myself with preparing dinner instead. It wasn’t much, especially since all I had was canned goods and a camping stove, but the vegetable stew kept us warm while we curled up in our makeshift living room. As evening turned to night, however, it became obvious that something was missing.

There are no games.

Kuina chewed on her lip, looking out of the window. ‘What d’you think will happen when our visas run out?’

‘It probably has something to do with the Ten of Hearts,’ I told her. ‘Maybe there’s no need for games anymore, since we’ve got all the numbered cards.’

It didn’t bode well for us. If there were no games by the time our visas ran out, there was no chance of us getting out of the Borderlands. At least not alive.

As the night wore on, Kuina was the first to go upstairs. Covering her yawn with her hand, she waved goodnight and winked at me. I tried not to blush. Not that it made a difference, anyway. Chishiya was busying himself over a scrap of paper, and barely reacted when I smushed up by his side.

I frowned at the paper in his hand. ‘Isn’t that...’

‘Ah.’ He held it out so I could see it. ‘I took it from the tagger’s pocket.’ It was a drawing of a circle with squiggly lines, clearly a rushed sketch of something. In the middle of a line, the pen had stabbed a hole straight through.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, I have an idea,’ he said, but never elaborated.

Fighting the onset of sleep, I leaned my head against his shoulder, paying no mind to the way he tensed beneath me. The fabric of his cardigan was soft as down and made for a perfect pillow. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’

‘And if I don’t want to?’

I pushed my face into the fabric, pretending to settle in for the night. ‘Then I’ll just stay here and annoy you until your visa runs out.’

‘I have a feeling that won’t happen any time soon,’ he said, looking out the window.

And that was when I noticed it too. Midnight had passed by only a few minutes ago, yet there were no lasers. Did that mean the Borderlands were at a standstill? Were we stuck here permanently now? I wasn’t aware of how silent I had become, lost in my own thoughts, until Chishiya spoke up.

‘I believe it’s a map.’

My eyes slid to the drawing again. ‘And that hole in the paper, do you think that’s where the others are? The dealers, I mean.’

He shifted uncomfortably and I sat upright, conscious that I might have been unintentionally hurting or bothering him. Looking at the map properly, the lines could represent different interlocking pathways. If the marked place was a hideout of some kind, it couldn’t be in the open streets; there was too big a risk that a player might stumble upon it by accident.

So where...?

As soon as the idea came to mind, the words slipped out of my mouth. ‘The subway....’

He hummed in agreement. ‘I went to the nearest subway station this morning to check it against the real map. It’s a loose fit, but it works.’

I thought back to the second tagger – the crying woman – and how she’d been forced to participate in the game, donning an explosive collar. ‘Maybe if we find the place, we’ll get some answers.’

‘Probably,’ he said. ‘But I’m curious to see if anything changes within the next few days.’

‘Do you think we’ll hear something soon?’ I asked, yawning into my hand.

‘I believe we will.’ He gave me that same half-smile I had grown so used to. ‘But right now, I think you should go to sleep.’

Chishiya didn’t complain when I crawled into his bed. Like the night before, he kept his distance, but I could’ve sworn at times, when my sleeping became lighter throughout the night, I could feel fingers lightly touching my hair, only to pull back the moment I stirred. Over the next few days, it became the norm, and every night I would curl up on my side of the bed, slipping into calm dreams under the blue light of the window.

---------------------------------------------------

Despite the sunshine washing over the grey of the city, the stairs leading into Minami-Aoyama station descended into darkness. We’d checked and double-checked the drawing against the official subway map several times, but the idea of entering an abandoned station to uncover who knows what wasn’t inviting.

‘Are you sure this is it?’ Kuina asked for the third time.

I looked at the route map hanging over the station entrance, my eyes tracing the shape of the lines. ‘Positive.’

Folding her arms, Kuina went first. I waited for Chishiya to take a small torch from his pocket before following behind. The station was truly submerged in blackness, and if not for Chishiya’s torch, we would have easily become lost. He shone the beam at the paper in his hand, then held it up against each train line.

‘This way,’ he said, and walked towards the edge of the platform.

We hopped down onto the gravel below, using the metal tracks to guide us further into the tunnels. It was disconcerting to see the subway so empty, but with Kuina and Chishiya here, I felt safe somehow.

Several minutes in, Chishiya stopped abruptly, and I almost walked into him. If he reacted at all, I couldn’t see to tell. But he seemed more focused on something else, as he pointed the torch at a door that had been busted open.

‘That must be it.’ Kuina’s voice echoed.

Without hesitation, Chishiya disappeared through the door, leaving Kuina and I in the darkness.

Chishiya?!

I panicked, arms waving as I tried to find something to hold onto. I heard Kuina hiss as we stumbled into each other and bumped elbows. Feeling around for the door frame, we managed to make our way inside, where Chishiya held his torch at us from further away.

‘Hey!’ Kuina snapped. ‘Don’t do that again! You’re the only one with a light here.’

‘Walk faster then,’ he said, waiting impatiently as we jogged over.

He shone the beam in the opposite direction, where it bounced off something. It was still too dark to tell just what, but as we walked forwards, everything became clearer. A structure lay ahead, with tunnels and walkways all leading into a giant room. Overhead, wires were strung across the ceiling, all feeding into the same place. We entered through one of the tunnels, and my heart jumped.

Televisions. They stared, black and empty, in rows and columns up the walls. But what was even more surprising was the setup right in front of us. It was an office, with papers, pen pots and coffee-stained mugs strewn about on desks. It would have looked like any other workplace, if not for the bodies draped in chairs and across the floor.

‘What... is this?’ I crouched to inspect the body of a man in a suit. Judging from its state, he had only died recently, but more importantly, there was a singed hole running through his head. He had been killed by a laser. ‘They’re not the ones in charge of the games.’

Chishiya closely inspected a desk. ‘Evidently not,’ he said, picking up a folded piece of paper and passing it to me. It was filled with numbers, some ticked off. Whoever it had belonged to was keeping track of their visa.

They’re playing games too, I thought. Or at least, they were.

‘So, these guys were the dealers.’ Kuina gingerly held up a sheet of paper with scribbles all over it. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be odds. ‘They were betting on us,’ she said.

A shiver ran along my skin. Of course, they had been watching us this whole time, that was expected. But to place bets on our survival was a whole other story. If the dealers were playing too, there must’ve been a separate system for them to extend their days. Perhaps how many people survived each game had some kind of impact on their visas.

A finger lightly brushed the back of my arm and Chishiya appeared beside me. ‘Momoka’s friend,’ I said, ‘she died right after she told everyone she was a dealer. And the taggers died because we won. I have a feeling their visas depended on whether or not we cleared each game... or maybe how many people didn’t make it.’

From his expression, I knew he had been thinking the same thing. ‘It doesn’t explain why they’re all dead now.’

I glanced around at the stiffened bodies slumped around us. ‘Actually, I have a bad feeling about that too.’

At that moment, a tap of footsteps echoed from the entrance. Chishiya instantly turned off his torch and tugged me into one of the tunnels. Kuina joined us and we hid, waiting. The footsteps grew louder, closer, and two torchlights waved through the darkness. I kept my eyes trained on the tunnel opposite as the footsteps paused.

‘Where is this place?’

‘Who knows?’

With a sigh, I relaxed instantly.

Those two.

It had only been a few days since I had made peace with Arisu and Usagi, but I was glad to see them again. Arisu was cleaned up, his wounds well on the way to healing, while Usagi stared in amazement at the television screens around us.

Chishiya grazed past me as he moved out from under the shadows. ‘You actually found this place,’ he said. ‘As expected from someone I have high hopes for.’

‘We meet again,’ Kuina said, walking around the desks to lean against the wall.

Arisu and Usagi’s eyes scanned the two of them before stopping at me. They looked visibly confused, probably wondering what I was doing with them after I’d told them I wasn’t involved in Chishiya’s setup. In an attempt at diffusing the awkwardness, I smiled and waved.

‘You guys,’ Usagi whispered. Her voice bordered on distrust, not that anyone could blame her.

I couldn’t tell whether Chishiya was trying to make things better or worse when he held up the full deck of cards and smiled. ‘Thanks to you guys, I have all the playing cards with me,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

Arisu only looked at him cynically. ‘How did you discover this place?’

Chishiya rooted in his pocket and pulled out the drawing. ‘It took me some time to realise this is actually a map. The route map of the subway.’ He sauntered around the desks. ‘As for what happens when we collect the cards... I thought I would know the answer if I came here.’ His eyes jumped to mine. ‘But there’s something else we discovered instead.’

‘They’re not the gamemasters,’ Arisu said, eyes fixed on the bodies around us.

I stepped over a hand strewn across the floor. ‘カードを集めたので、殺された.’ Because we collected the cards, they were all killed. I struggled for a moment, trying to think of the right words. ‘There must be someone above them.’

Chishiya translated, and Usagi turned to me with worry. ‘But who?’

‘Who knows?’ Chishiya shrugged. ‘They might be aliens... or even God.’

The idea didn’t sound as strange as it should have done. We were in a world where lasers appeared from the sky, and death games were the norm. Even when I first arrived here, I’d wondered whether this was a form of judgement. Nothing was out of the question anymore.

Suddenly, the screens burst into life and white light flooded the room. I jumped, flocking to Chishiya and Kuina’s side.

Have we been caught?

Music reverberated all around us, and the screens displayed all four card suits, along with a message I couldn’t read. It didn’t matter though, as the voice that rang through the speakers was one I remembered well. My stomach dropped.

‘Congratulations to all players!’

The screens blurred until Mira’s wild eyes and subdued smile came into focus. It was now obvious why the Ten of Hearts had taken place at the Beach at the very moment things had fallen apart.

She must’ve been feeding information back, I thought. But back to where?

‘How interesting,’ Chishiya said. Seeking stability, I slipped a hand into his pocket. There was a slight hesitation before his fingers laced around mine.

Mira’s voice shook with a quiet excitement. ‘With the exception of the face cards, you’ve all cleared the numbered games and emerged as victors. It’s a sweet victory, gained by sacrificing so many lives.’ Her expression turned wistful as she stood. ‘I wonder, how many of your comrades have died. Try remembering those who were shot dead with guns.’

A single screen switched to show footage from a miscellaneous game. A group were stood, clutching their guns as they inspected the scatter of bodies across the ground.

They’ve been recording us.

‘And that girl you burned alive.’

A second display opened up, revealing several players watching on as a girl, engulfed in flames, struggled and clawed at her skin and clothes. I held my breath, Niragi’s animalistic cries ringing through my memory.

‘Those struck by lasers, and those that drowned.’

My eyes widened, and I gripped Chishiya’s hand as the inside of the furniture store appeared on-screen. The fractured image of myself flinched, quivering with shock, as the first man and Green Shirt leapt from their seats, only to crumple to the ground, lasers piercing them where they stood.

Chishiya’s fingers squeezed mine, and I gasped, blinking away the image. He must’ve seen it too.

‘Those who’s heads were blown off,’ Mira continued, dreamily. ‘Those comrades of yours, the despair you’ve felt so far, and those dying moments you’ll never forget.’

The screen changed once more, and from the corner of my eye, Arisu winced. Following his gaze, I recognized his partner from the Tag game, his neck exploding around a collar.

I’m so sorry....

Meanwhile, Mira’s expression shifted into pure, childlike delight. ‘Everyone... I’m so touched!’ She held her hand over her heart. ‘All of you players, we’d like to give you a present.’

We?

Chishiya tensed slightly. He had noticed it too. If Mira wasn’t the only gamemaster, just who were the others?

Although Mira couldn’t hear us, Kuina mumbled, ‘Are you returning us to the real world?’

It seemed too good to be true, and sure enough, it was. Mira clapped her hands together excitedly. ‘There will be new games! Let’s play more games together and fight for the face cards this time!’

Aside from Chishiya, everyone sank with disappointment and fear. Just how much more would we have to deal with before we could go home? If we were competing for the face cards, did that mean there were only twelve more games in total, or would there be repeat cards like there were for the numbered ones?

Kuina groaned. ‘New games? You’re kidding.’

‘I don’t dislike the idea,’ Chishiya murmured.

I looked at him, curious. ‘What do you mean?’

His expression was guarded, but before he could reply, Mira’s voice cut in again. ‘The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon. Everyone, let’s have fun together!’

All at once, the screens shut down, leaving us all in the darkness once more. Everything was quiet as we came to terms with what had just happened. It was Arisu who first suggested that we get out of here. Him and Usagi disappeared back through the tunnel, and with one glance at Chishiya and I, Kuina followed.

My fingers were still interlaced with his, hidden within the warmth of his pocket. He was watching me, waiting.

‘These games,’ I said. ‘They’re going to be harder than the others.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘Probably.’

‘About what you said before...’ I began. ‘Do you remember that time on the rooftop of the Beach, when I asked you if you were okay, and you told me it shouldn’t matter to me.’

I could see him thinking back. ‘I remember.’

‘What I said then still stands. You might not care about your own life, and I can’t stop you from taking part in these new games.’ I bit my lip, unable to face him as my eyes began tearing up. ‘Perhaps this is selfish of me, but you need to survive. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then....’

He sighed. ‘You cry too much.’ When I looked up, his lips were curled into that same, familiar smile, only this time, there was nothing cruel or condescending there. ‘We should find the others.’

Wiping my eyes with the edge of my sleeve, I finally let go of his hand, following him back out and through the tunnels. As we climbed the steps of the station, emerging into daylight, a series of loud bangs resounded throughout the city. The others were peering up at the skyscrapers towering over us, and the fireworks that burst like flowers against the sunlight.

‘Let’s make a new deal,’ Chishiya said, idly watching the display. ‘I’ll survive, if you return the favour.’

I looked to him, admiring the way his hair shifted in the breeze, and how the reflection of the fireworks danced in his dark eyes.

Let’s go home together.

‘It’s a deal.’

#alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland

88 notes · View notes

dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Genji Heavy Industries (Part 2) Into the Underground

Chu Zihang makes me have a surprisedpikachu.jpg here.

ITT: The MC can have ally chats and date both genders soooo...

The elevator descended to the bottom floor. The door opened to pitch black.

Chu Zihang flicked on the flashlight. The beam of light illuminated the dusty statue of the Virgin Mary. Although pigment has faded due to age, the Virgin Mary statue is still flushed with a magnificent red and gold, which indicates that the paints they used were mixed with real gold powder.

This is the second basement level of the Takamagahara. The building actually had a second underground floor and one of the four elevators was a freight elevator that could reach this floor.

"This house looks pretty old!" Lu Mingfei exclaimed, "This style is not like a Japanese house."

"Before World War II, this was a Catholic church. After the Meiji Restoration, many priests came to Japan to preach, and there were many Catholics at that time. This was once a stronghold of the faithful in Tokyo, where dozens of priests lived and held regular services and masses." Chu said, "When Tokyo was bombed in World War II, the bas-reliefs and arches were destroyed, leaving only the main structure intact. The store manager saw its location and rented it, spending a lot of money to renovate it into a nightclub. The stage was originally where the organ was housed, and the card seating area was originally the choir stalls. This floor was a confessional and reading room, and was used as a bombing shelter during World War II. To this day it is a government-planned shelter, although the store manager is using it as a storage room."

You’re riding on Caesars back, your legs straddling his waist and propped up by his arms. Even though there was no danger yet, you were still slightly inebriated by your night’s show and he insisted on carrying you until you sobered up. Practical reasons aside, he made it clear that he wanted you to stay close to him. You were essential to the mission. You surmised also that his own personal code of honor and justice pushed him to go the extra mile.

Everywhere the flashlight swept was grey with dust. The four walls were painted with chalk. The floor was just smoothed with cement. The walls still had traces of smoke and fire and, in the corners, were stacked organ parts, enamel-decorated pulpits, and two or three human-high crosses with aged ochre vestments hanging from them. You can vaguely feel the prosperity of this Catholic Church back then. You imagine the clergy shuttling to and fro, the sound of voices reciting the Bible. No one could have imagined that, a hundred years later, this place would become a nightclub of sound and fury of male strippers.

Chu Zihang found a cellar well in the corner of the hall. It was covered by an old-fashioned cast iron well cover. The rusty cover was probably hundreds of years old, and the German markings of the cast iron company were indistinct. Chu Zihang and Caesar worked together to move the well cover, and the sound of water gurgled in the darkness.

"The sewer entrance is actually inside the building!" Lu Mingfei whispered in surprise, “So Hydra won’t even notice us going in and out of the Takamagahara!”

"It's indeed a very coincidental thing." Chu Zihang said, "I also did not expect the entrance to the sewer would be hidden in Takamagahara. I found the sewer map of Shinjuku district from the Internet. It doesn’t look very big. There are only a dozen sewer entrances and exits. Most of them are housed in a sewage treatment station. Only this cellar well is the exception. It should have been sealed long ago, but because it was connected to the shelter, it happened to provide an escape route, so it was preserved. I should say we got lucky, we found the shelter at the same time we touched the back entrance of Genji Heavy Industries."

Lucky, huh? You raise your eyes again to the statue of the Virgin Mary and the words of Z in your dream echoed. He was doing this for a reason. Was it revenge for Black Swan Bay? If so, why wait 20 years? He told you frankly that you wouldn’t be able to understand until the very end. But your skin was starting to crawl.

“MC! Come on.” Caesar was waiting for you at the entrance. He once again lifted you up on his back and carefully you descended into the pipe.

They went down the iron staircase into the sewer, the flashlight illuminating the mossy brick wall. The structure of this section of the sewer was very old, completely different from the modern Iron Dome shrine, with a semicircular cross section. A water channel was in the middle and narrow paths for walking were on both sides. The ceiling is draped with some kind of aquatic plant, dark green and hair-thin, and if you are not careful, they will brush your face like cold hands in the dark. There was a foot-long black shadow slowly creeping across the corner, and when Chu Zihang shone his torch over it, it suddenly accelerated and disappeared into the dark green plants, emitting a woofing sound similar to a dog's bark. Lu Mingfei was so scared that he leaned back, Caesar held him up in time, otherwise he would have been planted in the gutter.

“Stop being so jumpy!” He hissed.

"It's a mud salamander, a kind of salamander, native to North America." Chu Zihang locked the thing's exposed long tail with the beam of the flashlight. "It eats the eggs of aquatic animals, which prevents them from overpopulating the sewers. They put them in the sewers as scavengers."

"Holy shit! Scared the hell out of me! There are actually such dumb things in the sewers!"

"Each city's sewers are an ecosystem, where there is sufficient water but basically no sunlight. Those species that can adapt to the darkness will quickly reproduce and eventually form a stable biosphere." Chu Zihang walked ahead with a flashlight, "The sewer ecosystem of each city is different, related to the city's rainfall, temperature and the acidity of the groundwater. The most important thing to be careful of here is the small things like blood worms, they may lay eggs on you. The big things are mostly not dangerous, even the water snakes are also not venomous."

"Anywhere you go, the sewers are not built all at once. The sewers you see now are the sewers of Shinjuku district a hundred years ago. Tokyo had a massive renovation of the sewer system ten years ago, connecting all the old sewer systems, and the excess groundwater enters the Iron Dome Shrine through the various sewers, and is purified and discharged into the sea from the mains. If we keep walking, we’ll eventually enter the main channel." Chu Zihang glanced at the map in his hand, "About 600 meters further we will pass under the Shinjuku subway station, where there will be giant water turbines, through the turbine holes we will enter the Iron Dome Shrine."

"Brother were you born in the sewers, so you know so much about them?"

"I googled it."

"But you can't read Japanese."

"I have Google Translate, and I learned a few sentences of Japanese through Google Translate." Chu Zihang switched to Japanese and said, "Thank you for your patronage. I look forward to seeing you again. Would you like some more wine? Cry if you are sad. And that's about it."

“You’re so smart.” You say, “Maybe someday I’ll be as smart as you.”

“You’re very intelligent in your own way, MC. Mostly by way of survival. In Chizuru, you didn’t hesitate to wait until nightfall, find your own clothing, make your way to the Internet Cafe and fend off attackers. You recognized the danger of the gangsters long before we did. And in the end, if I hadn’t distracted you, you probably would not have been injured. Those are the major examples. I could go on longer with the smaller examples. When I think of them I’m glad you’re our friend and not our enemy.”

“Aw…” You say, resting your head between Caesar’s shoulder and neck. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Caesar snorted. “Speaking of flirting, I’m very surprised not even the hottest men of Tokyo could earn your favor tonight. You really didn’t see anything in any of them?”

“They each tried to sell themselves to me very well. But I wasn’t interested in what they had to offer. It’s not that they didn’t have anything.”

“If you had no choice and had to pick one… which one would you choose?”

“That’s a weird question. I’m wondering why it matters. Have you bet on a favorite to win?”

“No. I just don’t think it’s good to walk alone in the world. I was honestly hoping that you and Mingfei Lu would get along a bit better but…”

“It wouldn’t be good for someone like me to court an ordinary human. Playing like this for a show is… alright.”

“You loved someone back in your old place… what was he like?”

“She.”

Caesar’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh!”

Mingfei’s head swiveled in your direction. “You like girls!” He slaps his forehead. “It all makes so much sense now!”

“I didn’t know I did until I was asked that question about lost love. It’s a bit sadder now because if I had understood my feelings then, I would have told her.” You shift your gaze back to Mingfei. “Can I ask you something? Are both your parents Chinese?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You look like someone I used to know. I think he may still be alive. I liked him too.”

“Then you swing both ways?” Lu Mingfei seemed to be having a mini-crisis. How was he supposed to protect your innocence from everyone in existence? It was funny to see him frantically holding back his bangs, concerned about that rather than being worried about breaking into the headquarters of the most powerful organization in Japan.

Caesar’s eyes shifted in your direction. “If you need help searching for survivors, you have the full support of the Student Union.”

“Thanks… If anyone could survive, it would be him.”

“That would be nice if you could meet again. Pick up where you left off maybe?” Mingfei rested his arms behind his head.

You stare at him in silence and give a sigh, your chest rising against Caesar’s back.

“Don’t mind him. It’s going to hit him in like an hour.” Caesar grumbles.

You bury your head in his shoulder, giggling.

#Dragon Raja

13 notes · View notes

imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

Text

Gabrily, Anna and Kit (A fic)

A/N: It can’t be. Ana? Posting a fic? After all of this time?! Yes, it’s true. Sorry for not posting in such a long time :(

A quick side note though: I found this post on my dash about using these symbols for sarcasm for Neurodiverse folk, so that’s what those ANs in the middle of the fic are <3

/s = sarcasm

/srs = serious

Cecily and Gabriel were supposed to be training, but instead they were kissing furiously up against a wall. Gabriel was gliding his hands up and down Cecily’s body, and she was trying very hard to keep from moaning in pleasure. It was so rare they had a moment to themselves that, when they did, it was like they were two stars that could not be put out. Cecily felt like she was sixteen again.

“MAM!” A child yelled from a distance.

They broke apart and looked toward the closed door. When nothing else came, Cecily turned Gabriel’s head back to her.

“It’s probably nothing.” She said. Children weren’t exactly known for distinguishing emergencies from something that is not so urgent.

Gabriel’s eyes drifted toward the door before coming back to meet Cecily’s and nodded.

He leaned in and they were kissing once more. Cecily intertwined her hands at the nape of his head. Gabriel lifted her so that she rested on his hips. She began running her fingers through his soft, curling hair.

“PAPA!” Another yell sounded. “MAM! COME QUICK!”

Cecily sighed and let her forehead fall on Gabriel’s shoulder. She felt him shrug it so that her head bounced lightly against his neck.

“Let’s see what’s the matter.”

Cecily lifted up her head, kissed him quickly, and put her hands on his shoulders. He let her slide down to the ground, his hands lingering on her hips.

“They better be calling for something important.” Cecily said.

...

It was, in fact, important.

“By the angel,” Gabriel breathed, his grip tightening around Cecily’s hand.

“What are you two doing?!”

“We got stuck!” Anna yelled down.

Stuck indeed. Gabriel and Cecily’s toddlers were clinging on the ceiling beams. Anna was standing, hands spread out to keep her balance. Kit was sitting down behind her, playing with a stuffed toy.

“Yes, darling, we can see that,” Cecily said.

Gabriel simply opened and closed his mouth in surprise. “H-how?”

Cecily shrugged, “I have no clue, but we should probably find a way to get them down before they get hurt.”

“Good idea.” Gabriel said, bending down to lift her up.

Cecily, not having realized what Gabriel was doing, flailed when he picked her up.

“GABRIEL!”

“Sorry,” he said, wincing.

Once Cecy found her balance, she reached up to grab the wood beam that ran across the ceiling.

“A little bit higher,” she said, and Gabriel lifted her higher. A bit too high, as she ducked out of the way to avoid getting hit on the head. She held back a laugh. She loved him so much.

Cecy put her palms facedown on the wood and hoisted herself up, swinging a leg over on the beam, so that she was straddling it. She tried not to look down as she got to her feet, and began escalating the walls, making her way to the old chandelier that was close by. Gabriel followed from below, ready to catch her if, on the unexpected occasion, she fell.

“Mama!” Anna called.

“Hello, bach.” she smiled.

Cecily stood back and ran down the beam, flinging herself onto one of the chandelier’s rungs. She swung on the chandelier, gaining impulse by swinging her legs, and flung herself to the other side, landing in a crouch. She caught Anna’s gaze.

“If you ever try that,” she told her daughter, “I will hang you from your legs.”

Anna nodded, wide-eyed.

Cecily smiled and began crossing the distance between them.

Soon, she got close enough that Anna came running to her. Cecily caught her in her arms and kissed the top of her head.

She cradled Anna’s lithe body against her own before looking at her sternly in the eyes.

“Do you want to explain to me why you and your brother are on the ceiling boards?”

“We were getting Bunny.” Anna said.

Cecily sighed.

Bunny is a stuffed animal that Gideon and Sophie gifted Anna with when she was born. Anna then gave it to her brother when he was born. Bunny is not strictly old, but after washing it so many times, poor Bunny was on the verge of loosing one of it’s ears.

“Next time, you call your father or myself, and we will get Bunny down without the risk of you two getting injured. Yes?”

“All right, Mama.”

Christopher was still straddling the beam, grabbing on to it with both hands, but not in any sort of danger, nor did he look frightened at the idea of staying there a while longer. In fact, he seemed content to look at the world from up there, swinging his legs and waving at Gabriel when he caught sight of him.

“Christopher, stay there. I will be right back.”

Anna looked over her shoulder as Cecily picked her up.

“Where are we going, Mam?”

Cecily exchanged a look with Gabriel, communicating wordlessly.

“To get you down.”

Anna looked confused which prompted Cecily to change the subject before Anna began asking deeper into how she was going to get down.

“Anna bach, are you excited to visit your grandparents for Christmas?”

“Yes!” Anna exclaimed, “I’ve been practicing my Welsh.” she grinned, showing all of her teeth.

“Is that so? I’m sure your grandmother will be overjoyed to hear that.”

Anna smiled even wider.

Cecily smiled back at her and kissed Anna’s forehead. “Close your eyes.”

Anna obliged with alacrity.

Then, Cecily released her.

Anna didn’t have time to scream before she fell into her father’s arms.

She made a small hmph at the impact, and then smiled up at father.

“Can we do that again?”

Gabriel shook his head. “You are forbidden from doing something like that ever again.”

Anna frowned, but she soon forgot of her woes and skipped away, muttering phrases in what Cecily assumed was Welsh from the occasional lilt she heard.

Cecily turned and began walking back to the place where the beam met the wall to retrieve her son. She was relieved Anna didn’t scream on her way down, for it surely would have made Christopher back away from her now. Instead, his eyes followed hers, and he tilted his head back when she stood in front of him. She knelt down and looked into the lavender eyes that were the same as her mother’s.

“Are you ready to go on an adventure?”

Christopher, who did not talk much, simply held out his arms for her to pick him up, his fist clutching Bunny’s body. Cecily picked him up and kissed his cheek softly as she walked the length of the beam.

She held Christopher over the edge.

“No!” she heard Gabriel call.

“Were you not ready?”

Gabriel said something that sounded like “childhood trauma”.

Cecily rolled her eyes. “That’s irrelevant. Look at Anna, she’s fine.”

Gabriel glanced at his daughter, who was still skipping around the room.

“Anna is older, Christopher is a baby.”

Cecily sighed and looked into Christopher’s eyes. “Your father is a pain in my you-know-what.”

She surveyed her opinions, furrowing her eyebrows while she mapped out her route for descent. She smiled to herself in satisfaction and confidence. She opened her gear jacket and placed Christopher inside before closing it up again. He looked at her through lavender eyes.

“Are you ready?”

Christopher simply stared at her.

“Can you say ‘yes mam’?”

Christopher blinked. Cecily smiled regardless.

“Hold on to your bunny,” she said, half to herself.

She made her decent, occasionally speaking to get Christopher’s attention when he started leaning farther out than she wished.

She was nearing the ground when Kit got excited over something he saw (perhaps Gabriel) and leaned far out enough to tip over. Cecily panicked and let go, grabbing hold of him with one of her hands. Had she been higher off the ground and alone, they probably both would have gotten seriously injured. Thankfully, Gabriel took Christopher and sat him down on the floor, allowing for Cecily to jump down the rest of the way.

By the time she landed, Kit was already crawling away in the direction of his sister.

“Goodness, look at what becoming a mother has done to me. All I do is panic.” Cecily said.

“Yes, you panic once a week. Definitely all of the time.” (A/N: /s)

“Well, compared to how much I used to panic over things, this is a drastic change.”

“Well, I cannot argue with that.” (A/N: /srs)

Cecily and Gabriel watch their children as they play. Anna was holding Bunny’s paws and spinning in a circle, making it seem like Bunny was flying. Kit was giggling on the floor next to her.

“What is all this about ‘childhood trauma’?”

Gabriel shrugged. “When I young, my father pushed me off of a tree in an attempt to teach me how to ‘fall’”

“What happened?”

“I broke my legs.”

Cecily felt her eyes widen.“Both?!”

“Yes, both. It was quite a fall. The point is, every time I have to jump from a high distance, I cannot help but think about that day.”

“You never told me,” Cecily said.

“I haven’t really told anyone. The only person who knows is Gideon.”

Cecily felt a tug at her heartstrings.

“Do you want a hug?”

Gabriel made a grunting noise.

“A hug?”

“Yes. To make you feel better.”

“Um,”

Cecily wrapped her arms around him. Gabriel was stiff.

“This is for all of the hugs your father never gave you.”

He was still for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around Cecily and leaned down to put his head on her shoulder.

It was hard for Cecily to appreciate the few things Benedict Lightwood did well in his life. She hated him for he had done to his sons and daughter. But she also knew that Gabriel had loved him, and that she never met Benedict. She couldn’t judge him based on the stories she’d heard of him, nor was it her place to tell Gabriel how horrible she thought his father was. She wouldn’t like it if he said such things about her parents. She’d decided long ago that Gabriel’s feelings on his father were his own.

Gabriel pulled away after a while and Cecily looked down to find Kit hugging his leg. She laughed as Gabriel lifted him. When Anna came, Cecily picked her up as well.

“I would be angry with you if I did not love you so much.” She told her daughter.

Anna replied by hugging her.

“I have a question,” Gabriel said. “How did you two even get up there?”

“Yes, I was wondering that myself.”

“Oh,” Anna said. “We took the balcony and walked the railing.”

Cecily sighed. “Why did you not tell us?”

“I thought you knew.”

“By the angel. Our children are already more intelligent than we are.”

Gabriel smiled. “We already knew that Cecy.”

Tagging (if you want me to remove or add you, please send me a dm):

@sankalina @kit-12 @tsccreatorsnet @hitheresomeoneusingthus

#gabrily #gabriel lightwood #cecily herondale #christopher lightwood #anna lightwood #cecily x gabriel #gabrily kids #herondale-lightwood #tsc #cassandra clare #tsc fanfic #tlh fanfiction #tlh fanfic #tid fanfiction #tsc fanfiction #the last hours fanfic #the infernal devices fanfic #gabrily fanfic

61 notes · View notes

merctrovert · 3 years

Text

Ragnvindr || Chapter 6

This is not your destruction. This is your birth. It hurts to become, but there is no other way.

The plan was simple.

The first step was to disguise as Fatui and infiltrate the base at the dead of night and hopefully, not get caught.

"There'll be no complications." Diluc had said, but you still couldn't help the worry as you followed the two men, your fingers tugging at the itchy, Fatui uniform Diluc had given you and Kaeya.

"If you say so." Kaeya tied back his hair, forcing it under a hat just like you had done as you followed Diluc, sneaking from tree to tree until the base was in sight.

It was a run-down shack, not worth a second glance to passerbys, but upon closer inspection, it was actually the entrance to a Fatui base.

Only a small lit lantern illuminated it's surroundings and you kept close as Diluc walked up to the half deteriorated building, eyes glancing around beneath his Fatui mask.

Kaeya's eyes met your own and you nodded, understanding just what he was trying to get across. There were no guards or anyone nearby.

A small stone fell, hitting your foot and you bent down, looking around. There was a cold breeze against your face as you did so, but when you stood back up, it was gone.

You repeated the action, grabbing the rock and looking around at where the strange draft in the sill night could have come from until your eyes landed on the thin cracks in the rocks beside the shack.

Pressing a hand against them, you felt the cold draft run through the crack and turned to the others, waving them over.

In silent understanding, Diluc took out his claymore before striking the wall of rock.

Kaeya and you both watched as the rock crumbled, giving way to a small mine shaft that had been covered with those rocks. A way in.

The draft grew stronger, the fire in Diluc's hand wavering violently as you trekked deeper inside, hands blindly following the route of the mine shaft until you heard voices and a hand overcame your mouth.

Kaeya's cold gloves pressed against your face, pulling you to the side, pressing you and him against the wall as the orange glow of fire and silhouettes came into view.

When the hushed voices had passed, he let you go and you stumbled out from the tiny crevice, eyes cautiously peering in the direction they had went.

"Follow them."

You nodded, letting Diluc lead as you followed the two unsuspecting guards, listening in on their trivial conversations of dinner and parties.

It grew lighter as you all followed them until Diluc held up a hand; you walking into it and nearly stumbling had Diluc's hand not come over your waist, a sharp firey look sent your way.

"We're here." He mouthed and Kaeya sheathed his sword, adjusting the mask on his face.

The second step of the plan was to figure out where to go next, once we were inside. Diluc had mentioned the Fatui dabbled in researching in lab work and the map showed an extra room; a room he suspected would have something in it relating to the Abyssal power wrapped around your arm. The only issue was, it was in the dead centre of the base.

The three of you walked out of the gap, shortly behind the two guards that had just left.

Your body felt stiff as you walked through the Fatui who had gathered, wandering here and there through the web of passages you had emerged into.

Kaeya and Diluc however seemed to fit just in, with Kaeya imitating the Fatui as though it were engraved in his bones and Diluc leading them on with confidence you could hardly turn away from.

Once you had reached the centre of the room, Diluc tilted his head and you broke away from the three, wandering between bodies hoping to hear something about a laboratory or something to do with the Abyss Order.

Kaeya caught your eye and sent you a small nod as he did the same, lingering by conversations with a drink he had picked up, acting as though he were meant to be there.

"Are you one of the new recruits?"

A voice spoke and you turned, spinning on your heels facing a masked stranger who stood over you, a cup in his hand.

You sent a silent prayer to the archons, glad you had a mask to hide the stupefied, terrified look on your face. But your lips still parted then closed, unsure of how to answer.

"Yes." You blurted when he bent down suspiciously, walking around you. Even though his face was covered, you still shivered, feeling his eyes assessing you.

Hearing you answer, he pulled away, smiling. "Good! I was just wondering where the new recruits were. See, I need someone to do a job for me."

"A-A job?"

The Fatui's arm slung around your shoulder and you suppressed an urge to shove the man away, simply forcing your muscles to relax under his touch.

As the man went on about killing machines and various other Fatui names that slipped your mind, your eyes travelled over the sea of bobbing heads, hoping to glimpse a familiar frame but the masks and hats made it impossible to seek out help.

"So what do you say?"

The arm slung around your shoulder tightened, pulling your attention towards the man who smiled at you, though now it was more like a sneer.

"S-Sounds good! But I have something to do..."

"Something to do? What else would you have to do that's much more important than this?"

You bit your lip, wincing as his body pressed against your injured arm. The Fatui seemed to notice, glancing down at your arm tucked away behind your back.

"You have a strange scent on you... Are you sure you're a Fatui recruit?"

As his suspicious eyes broke through your facade, you opened your lips, ready to retort, but your mind had gone into shutdown, fear running through your veins like fire. The dagger the man's hand hovered over glistened under the light of the lanterns in the room and you tried to pull away, but his arm wouldn't budge.

Before he could do anything, however, something slid over your waist, promptly tugging your body away from the Fatui's and next to a firm body. Your eyes raised, the body still tense in fear but when you recognised the dark red curls peeking out from under the hat, you audibly let out a relieved exhale, legs weak as you leant against Diluc for support.

"My apologies." His voice was silken, no sign of hesitation of fear wavered his words. Even his stature was one of confidence as he spoke and you stood up a little straighter. Still, his hand didn't let you go, fingers gripping your side firmly as if you were to suddenly disappear."Unfortunately, this recruit is not free."

"No?" The Fatui eyed Diluc suspiciously before his gaze fell down to the hand wrapped around your waist.

"We've been told to check up on the... the..." Diluc leant forwards, speaking hushed into his ears.

The Fatui man hummed, eyes lifting to Diluc's. Then he nodded, tapping his chin. "Yes, yes. Well, if that's the case, that cannot be helped."

"What's happening?" You tugged at Diluc sleeve as the man left, Diluc preparing to follow.

He bent down, lips coming close to your ear as he whispered, "Play along."

The loud clearing of a throat snapped his head back up and Diluc smiled easily, adjusting his hat.

"I am surprised they sent recruits on that mission." The man spoke as you both followed him down a dark passageway, the distant noise of mechanical humming growing louder.

"They thought it would be better for Fatui to become stronger quicker. Though due to her carelessness, her Delusion broke. Such is why we need to fix it quickly."

You sent Diluc a look, but his eyes were focused on the man in front of you.

"Fix it?" The man tutted, waving about a key. "No, no, fixing it won't do. You can only get a new one completely. Turn right at the last lantern and you should reach the laboratory. Although be careful not to touch anything."

Diluc nodded, pushing your body along as you tried to keep up with his long strides. With a harsh turn to the right, only then did he pull away from you, taking off his mask to press fingers to his creased brows.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded, letting out an exhale that did nothing to ease the tension in your chest.

"I knew I shouldn't have brought you here. It's too dangerous." As he muttered in the dimmed passage, you pushed your way through a heavy iron door, eyes widening at the room inside.

"Diluc... shut up for a second and look at this."

He stopped muttering, looking up at what you saw, his own lips parting.

"What is this?"

"I have no idea."

In front of you was a deconstructed ruin guard, tubes attached to its eye with dark purple liquid running through them. Purple chains, marked just like the way your arm was, were wrapped around pieces of its body.

You ran over to a desk, rifling through papers upon papers covered in inky scribbles that were barely coherent as you tried to find something for the power wrapped around your arm. Diluc was still frozen as he looked at the experiment in the centre of the cold lab.

Running over to the other side, you spotted rows and rows of various liquids, some fizzing and glowing with a fiesty manner.

"What are they doing with a ruin guard?"

"I don't know..." You muttered, cutting your fingers on paper as you flicked through notebooks. The magic on your arm seemed to tighten and suddenly, a burning pain shot through your body and you let out a yelp, clutching your arm.

Diluc looked at you, eyes wide, his hand wrapped around one of the tubes.

"It seems to be the same Abyssal magic they're using."

"Then we can find a way to get rid of this thing somewhere, right?"

A loud bang ran out through the room and you nearly fell to the floor, had you not seen the familiar dark blue hair. Kaeya's cap fell down, his face one of clear panic as he shut the iron door, locking it, his hair tumbling down from its ponytail in the hurry.

"What are you doing?" Hissed Diluc and you ran over, dropping the papers in your hand.

"Uh, two slight problems. I may or may not have found something very important."

Kaeya dropped a roll of yellowed paper, letting it unravel across the floor. It was another map, but there were various red marks scribbled all over the sheet of paper.

"I don't understand. What is this?"

"It's a map and each of these points that have been marked is where the Abyss and Fatui plan to attack."

You frowned, eyes jumping from each red cross on the map. "But I don't- that's everywhere. Mondstadt, Liyue- every major city has been marked."

"Because it's a war."

Diluc stood up, hands clenched in tight fists. His voice was eerily calm as he stared down at the map in front of him. "It's a war they're going to begin. The Abyss and the Fatui."

"Shit." Kaeya ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. "That's everywhere."

"The fall of Teyvat. Of course, that's what they want." Diluc slammed his fist on a desk, his jaw tight.

"Kaeya..." You looked up at the man, the thudding in the distance growing louder. "You said there were two problems. What is the second?"

"Well, you see, getting this map was... well, I may or may not have angered a couple Fatui..."

"A couple of Fatui are fine. We can get rid of them." Diluc held up his blazing claymore, turning to his brother with a dark look on his face.

"...A couple Fatui mages." Kaeya winced.

The iron door slammed open, Kaeya barely jumping out of the way as cloaked men rushed into the laboratory room, followed by the man that had led Diluc and you to the room.

"I thought you said a couple, Kaeya."

He simply let out a pained chuckle as you all watched dark purple chains emerge from the ground, purple flames emerging from the hands of the mages.

A sudden pang hit your heart and your eyes widened as you fell over, clutching your chest. Your mind raced, memories flashing before your eyes as your fingers clutched into the ground, your nails pressing into your own palms, leaving behind bloody crescents.

Those chains, that purple fire.

A certain rainy day came to mind as you watched the mages prepare to strike and your eyes met Diluc's who's eyes were equally as wide and filled with a fear you had not seen since that day.

His own mind was one of chaos, his heart rushing in his chest, grappling for a way out of the reality you now faced.

He watched as the purple chains rushed forwards to attack, purple flames burning the room but his body couldn’t move.

Because the delusions those Fatui used were just like his fathers.

wc: 2.3K

I'm so sorry for the slow updates this week!! Been trying to get through some work,, being in college is so tiring TT. I hope you are all well though.

And although I thought I wouldn't get Zhongli, I actually got him!!! I dreamt of pulling for Yanfei and so, on a whim, I saved up 10 wishes with what scarce primogems I had and I pulled and I got Zhongli! It wasn't even on pity!!

Maybe listening to Rex Incognito for a week on repeat did help LOL.

I hope you all got who you wanted!! I still want Yanfei :< I got everyone on the banner but Yanfei :')

All support is appreciated <3

Love you all! Be taking care ~ merc.

makeshift tag list: @fishyfish-y

13 notes · View notes

stones-x-bones · 3 years

Text

It’s Only Love (Night 3) || Mina, Morgan and Bex

TIMING: Current (last night, continuation of this) PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable, @mor-beck-more-problems, @inbextween SUMMARY: Home is where the heart is. CONTENT: Head injury, Medical blood (wound cleaning, stitches), Domestic abuse mentions

They hobbled along, back through the trees, staying close to the river. The sun traveled across the sky until it was dipping behind the trees. They took infrequent breaks, racing against time and the sun. They weren’t winning, but they weren’t losing either. Bex squinted ahead, exhausted and ready to collapse, when she saw something new. "Mina," she huffed, shaking her, "Mina it-- it's the trail! The trail! We made it!"

I’m not,” Mina wanted to say. I’m not. “I’m not.” But she leaned forward and nodded her head, and she had to trust that Bex wasn’t lying. She wasn’t lying. She wouldn’t lie to Mina. “I”m yours, too. I am.” She was. If nothing else, she was Bex’s. If that was all she could be, then that’s what she would be. That was why it hurt so much when she left. That was why Mina was struggling so much with herself lately. “I don’t always get hurt. I don’t, really. It’s just-- It’s just a casualty of the job. It is the job.” But there wasn’t really much to say as they stumbled through the forest. Mina was desperate for them to get out of there before the sun set. There was no way she’d be able to defend both of them if night came while they were still in the forest. Mina knew what lurked in the shadows. She was in no condition to take it on. But there was the trail, and Mina could have cried in relief if she wasn’t so exhausted, if she didn’t feel like she was going to fall over from pain. “Maybe the fates are real,” she muttered. “We need-- we have to find a phone, or a person, or something. Anything.”

Bex refrained from telling Mina she hated her job. And from telling her that she wished she wouldn’t do it. But it was what Mina wanted, and so she would support her. There wasn’t much of any other choice. And that was fine. Bex was okay with worrying herself over Mina every day as long as she came home safe. Everything else could be figured out later. The trail opened up and sloped down and there, a way station. Dingy and broken down, which meant they were near the Gallows. She looked at herself, at Mina, then to a spot nearby. “Here, wait here,” she said, hobbling her over and bracing against the tree, “you’re...a little too not dressed to be going into public. I’ll--” she glanced over her shoulder at the station, “I’ll go see if they have a phone I can use. I’ll be right back, okay?” And she wanted to say that this would be the last time she’d leave her, but it wasn’t. It was the last time they’d be alone together for a while, though, wasn’t it? She turned back quickly, unable to help herself, and kissed Mina, a promise that she’d be back. “Okay...I’ll…” She pointed towards the building, before zipping up the old jacket she’d put on and straightening out her torn skirt as much as possible.

She hobbled down the hill, taking each step slowly, until she made it to the way station. It looked like there was a ranger office inside, too. Surely they’d let her use a phone for free, right? She opened the door slowly and peered in. “Hello?” No answer. But there, on the desk-- a phone. She raced over to it and picked it up, praying to hear the dial tone. “Yes.” Finally, things were working out. She jabbed Morgan’s number as fast as possible and breathed against the phone. “Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up.” Foot tapping anxiously. She wanted to get back to Mina as soon as possible. She wanted to get out of here before someone came back.

Morgan didn’t like unfamiliar numbers flashing on her screen any more than she did unexpected knocks on the door or strange cars by the driveway. But as with these other things, she knew that they could seldom, if ever, be avoided without consequence. She picked up, bracing for impact. “Hello…?”

Leaning against the tree, Mina managed to hum and say, “Yep, yes, no clothes, kind of scaly, really not interested in going in public. I’m-- I’ll just stay here. Right here.” She slumped against the tree, sinking a little further down until she was resting on the roots. She put her hand against her side. It came back sticky, wet. That wasn’t good. It had been quite some time since they’d been in the water. Stay awake. Stay awake. She glanced in the direction that Bex had disappeared to, still feeling the kiss linger on her cheek. She hoped someone came soon. They both really needed someone to come soon.

“Oh thank god,” Bex gave an audible sigh of relief, even through an old landline phone. “Morgan! It’s-- it’s Bex! It’s-- you can probably tell that by my voice. I-- sorry I’m calling you on a weird number. I-- we-- need your help. Mina--” she was babbling, with joy, with relief, she hardly noticed she was crying, her voice pitching through the tears, “Frank attacked her in-- in the forest. He-- that's not important, actually. Not right now. We need-- she’s really hurt. Can you come pick us up? I dont-- we can’t make it back to town. We’ve been walking for hours and she needs water and medical attention and I can’t help her anymore, I tried, I did my best, but I-- she needs--” She drew in a breath, holding it. She needed to relax. “Please, we need you.”

“Bex.” It was the last voice Morgan had expected. She was too stunned to cut in and tell the girl to slow down, take a breath, take a beat, think a little, it would be okay. But she caught Mina’s name and the part where they were in bad enough shape that they couldn’t get back on their own. “Bex, honey, I need you to tell me where you are. I will come, I will make it as alright as I can, but I need to know where you are. Can you take a breath and tell me?”

“Right, fuck, right-- we--” Bex started, stopped. She didn’t actually know. Somewhere in the Gallows. “H-hold on.” She fumbled the phone, trying to set it down gently but it clattered to the desk as she stumbled over to the map on the wall. “Five Point Ranger Station. Just behind Candelton. Five Point Ranger Station, just beyond Candleton,” she repeated it to herself as she made her way back over to the phone, picking it up as she slid to the ground, her legs suddenly nothing but jello. “Five-- Five Point Ranger S-station,” she managed to squeak out, “Just beyond Candleton cemetery. There-- there’s a b-back road, behind it. Leads right to it. To us. Pease-- please hurry.” She didn’t wait for the confirmation before she set the phone back on the receiver. She needed to go back and get Mina. Groaning, she lifted herself back up and glanced around. There was a walking pole by the entrance and she grabbed it, hurrying back up to Mina.

“Mina?” She collapsed just in front of her. “Mina, I’m back. Morgan is-- Morgan’s on her way. But we have to get down there, to the r-road.” She held out the pole. “I found this, it might help. The hill is gonna--” her eyes wandered to it, then to Mina’s leg, “--or I can carry you. I might have-- maybe have enough magic left to-to carry you.”

Stopping was always a bad idea. Mina stood by this as something that was a fact. Leaned against a tree, wounds aching, hurting, burning all over again with no water to soothe them, she didn’t think that stopping had been a good idea at all. She should have gone with Bex, lack of proper attire and inhuman appearance be damned. She also didn’t want to move, and that wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all. She looked up as Bex came back to her, spots in her vision, but she blinked them away. “I can walk. I just need a little help getting up. Don’t use any more of your magic. Please.” She fought to stand, hands pressed behind her against the tree bark, but she managed. She felt like hell. They needed to get to help.

Morgan’s world narrowed to the size of a list and the route her phone was coaching her through. She’d grabbed everything she could think of and reach within two minutes, thrown it all in the Subaru and started driving. Water and towels. First aid tub. Water for drinking. Jackets from each girl’s room. Whatever had been on the fridge shelf when she swiped her arm over it and dumped its contents into a plastic Hannaford bag. Battery pack. She’d weathered enough disasters to cover the basics. She must have. She must have because if anything could give her miserable little mortal life meaning, it would be doing enough that the two girls she loved did not die.

Morgan pulled up to the building and got out, not even bothering to close the door or to check her appearance in the mirrors. She marched into the road in the tank top and shorts she’d been wearing when she’d picked up the phone, her dark fingers, flaking skin, and decomp-purple coloring on full display. It didn’t exist to her. “Bex!” She called.

Bex would’ve argued that she had plenty of magic, it was energy she was running low on. But they didn’t really have time to argue, not anymore. The sun had disappeared behind the trees and the shadows were growing longer around them, reaching for them like hands that wanted to pull them back into the dark world, where life and death were too close together. Bex helped Mina stand and wrapped her arm around her again, using her other hand to steady herself with the pole instead. They trudged down the hill, slowly, making sure not to slip or stumble or fall-- that would’ve been rather disastrous. But they made it, and there was still no sign of life at the ranger station, so Bex pried the door open again and deposited Mina inside on a chair. “I’m--” she glanced back around, “I’m gonna go look for Morgan. I’ll be--” right back. As always. She didn’t finish her sentence before she scurried back outside.

The last bits of sunlight had all but disappeared when Bex saw the headlights coming up through the trees. Morgan was flinging herself out of the car and Bex did her best to throw the door open again and scramble into the road. “Morgan!” she called out, tripping on herself, on weak legs that felt broken and raw, a weak voice that quivered through a fever and a concussion. “Over here!” She ran to her as best she could, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the Ranger station. “Mina’s i-inside. I can’t-- I’m not strong enough. She’s not strong enough to walk anymore.”

Every step felt worse than the last, but Mina continued to push on, using Bex for help as she went. It felt like it was taking too long; she was scared they’d be stuck out in the dark before Morgan got there. But Bex managed to help her into the building, and Mina sat heavily in the chair. She waited. She tried very hard not to pass out. She waited. When the door opened again, Mina looked up with bleary eyes as two figures walked in. She almost passed out from relief. It was okay. They were going to be okay. Mina didn’t pass out though, just hung her head and raised a hand. “Hi.” She didn’t really have the strength for a less lackluster greeting.

I’ve been through enough, I will do enough, I know what I’m doing, I know this, I know this. Morgan’s brain circled around the same few thoughts as she came into the building and laid eyes on Mina. She gave Bex’s hand a squeeze as she released herself and came for the other girl. Mina, stupid, reckless, self-destructive Mina with and infected mess on her side, wounds in each leg, and a burn on her face that had barely healed at all. Morgan made a mental note of the damage, prioritizing, puzzling together what she wanted to do now and what would have to wait til they were home in the pool.

“‘Hi’ is not gonna cover it,” she deadpanned. “But hi to you too, honey.” She bent and lifted Mina into her arms with ease and started heading back to the car. “Bex, no time to be a martyr, be honest: are you good to walk or are you hopping on like a spider monkey? I don’t care, I’m not bothered, I just need to know.”

Bex had almost gotten used to Mina looking on the verge of death, but when she looked at her in the dim light of the building, really looked at her, she found herself freezing up with pain. With sorrow. What she wouldn’t give to have been a healer, to have had magic that could’ve actually helped, or saved her, or gotten rid of the multitude of injuries that were now causing her pain. She wiped furiously at her face. “I’m-- I can walk,” she stated. Morgan needed to focus solely on Mina, they could see to Bex when they were back at the house and Mina was safe and in water and taken care of. “I can walk,” she reassured, standing and heading to the door, yanking it open and holding it. “We should go, quickly,” she stated, eyes both glued to Mina and wanting to look away. Just a little longer, she told herself, she just needed to be brave a little longer.

“Hey,” Mina said, followed by, “Ow.” As Morgan lifted her up like she weighed nothing. Really, to a zombie, she did weigh nothing. Her weight, her injuries, all of it was nothing. She gripped onto Morgan’s shoulder tightly, though, trying not to make any noise against the pain of it all. Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake. She had to stay awake. She couldn’t go to sleep. She might not wake up. She didn’t know. She couldn’t possibly know. “I don’t think some things are going to heal right,” she said quietly as they made it to the car. “Cold iron. It… hurts. A lot more than I want to say.” She looked at Bex, saw the worry in her eyes, the fear. It was fine. They were fine. They were safe.

“You would be surprised what Deirdre has healed from,” Morgan said, shifting her in her arms to open the back seat and lay her down. “And you’ve never had fae healthcare before. So let’s put all of that into the ‘maybe’ category and see what happens.” She pressed a kiss to her head, then knelt over her supplies and got to work: burn salve, disinfectant, cotton pads, and soaking towels. She lifted her gaze to Mina and saw the glaze forming over her eyes and the exhaustion she was so desperately fighting. “Hey, Mina? Some of this is gonna sting, but it’ll hold you together til we get to the pool. While I’m working, why don’t you tell me what Bex’s status is, health-wise. Then tell me what you think she needs. Think you can focus enough to do that?”

Bex didn’t make it all the way to the car, but that was fine. There was an old lawn chair sitting out by the curb, close enough, that she sunk into. She wanted to go over, she wanted to help, but her body was exhausted and it fought against her, even as she tried to stand up again. She’d let Morgan take care of Mina without getting in the way. Bex would only get in the way, now, if she tried to help, with her own trembling hands and grievous headache. She laid her head back and closed her eyes, just for a moment. Just for a moment. She could hear Morgan’s soothing voice floating over from the car, and Mina’s trembling, pained one. She wanted to hug Morgan. She could wait until she was done tending to Mina. Something looked off about her, about Morgan, but in the dim light and through hazy eyes, Bex couldn’t put her finger on it. Finally, she lifted herself from the bench, deciding she’d gathered enough energy, and started the long, maybe twenty foot trek, over towards the car. It felt like it was a smile away. “Is she going to be okay?” Bex called halfway over. “Is she-- did we make it in time?”

“It’s just disinfectant. It’s not going to hurt that bad,” Mina said. Really, compared to some of the things that she’d done to heal herself over the years, disinfectant was nothing. Mina closed her eyes and sat as still as possible. “She’s got a concussion. She was also stabbed, though its older than mine. The sutures have come undone, though, and infection has set in. She was running a fever most of the day yesterday. She used up too much magic. She hasn’t eaten in three days, and the amount of water consumed hasn’t been nearly enough, especially given the fever.” Mina gave the list of ailments as methodical as possible, focusing on remembering what she could while Morgan worked. “She needs stitches, antibiotics, water, food, rest. To not go back to her parents. Somewhere safe. To go home.” Mina opened her eyes again, looking at Morgan. “I— I want to come home. Please.”

Morgan made a note of Mina’s list and her treatment plan. She had some stuff on hand, but no home made patch job was going to replace good ol’ antibiotics. But maybe she could improve a little, enough to survive whatever came next for her. She finished what she could for Mina by the time the girl finished and moved her hand to hold the still-water-soaked towel in place over her body. “It’s your home as long as you want it to be,” she murmured. “That means you never have to ask, Mina. I’m--it’s yours. It just is. It’s there. Whether you want it or use it or not.” She gave Mina a soft look, blinking back tears, and narrowed her focus again. She searched the grocery bag and pulled out a thing of leftover fried rice and put it into Mina’s other hand. “If Bex hasn’t eaten in a while, you haven’t either. I don’t care if you spill, just try to get something in you. You’re not gonna heal any faster if you’re malnourished.”

She plopped the bag in the slightly emptied tub and marched to the front passenger seat. Time for Bex. She set her things down, pushed the girl into the seat. “I’m not a fae expert, sweetheart, but I’m really good at breaking traffic laws when I want to, and there’s a fae clinic not far that we can get her to if things don’t look better in the morning, and I’ve patched her up as best I know how. But, the sooner we get home, the better, and since I’m not leaving until we’ve got you a little more stable, the best thing you can do is not fight me on it.” She gave her a look to show how set she was on this and started rifling around. “Take this water bottle, and this Tylenol, and show me where your infected injury is.”

“Fae clinic?” Bex asked, blinking. She didn’t even realize Morgan had pulled her into the front seat and sat her down until a water bottle and some meds were handed to her. She obliged without a word. If it got Mina home safe faster, she’d do whatever it took. She glanced over the seat and into the back, eyes traveling over Mina as if expecting to see her somehow still bleeding out in the back. But Morgan’s patch job was better than anything Bex had done, thanks to the copious amount of medical supplies she had. Bex nearly smiled at her. “Much better than gauze and old blankets,” she said to Mina, before turning to focus on Morgan again, who was rifling around in the bag. Bex set the water bottle down and unzipped the jacket, tugging it off with great effort. Without a shirt on, the multitude of bruises her parents left on her were evident under the scrutinizing car overhead light, but she turned herself enough to give Morgan access to the stab wound Frank had left on her, torn stitches black and bloody. “It’s just that one,” she said quietly. The burns from her magic exertion couldn’t be seen to, so they didn’t matter. She’d deal with them later.

“I thought I should ask. I felt like I should ask. I was stupid to leave, I wish I hadn’t, I’m sorry I did.” And Mina might have kept babbling, might have gone on and on and on, but there was food in her hand, and she stared at it for a little longer than she should have trying to figure out what to do with it before she realized that Morgan wanted her to eat. Mina didn’t want to eat. The thought made her nauseated. But she opened up the container any way and picked at what was inside. She looked back up to the front seat, making eye contact with Bex. She gave her a tired smile, but her tongue felt heavy and so did her eyes and she still couldn’t sleep, not yet. So she watched the front seat and made sure everything looked like she expected it to, and she tried not to spill any of the rice, despite Morgan saying it was okay. She almost felt like she could genuinely relax for the first time in… awhile. It was overwhelming.

Morgan let out a deep sigh. Even ignoring Bex’s bruises, painfully difficult but not impossible after all the practice she had with Deirdre, Bex’s wound was definitely...a lot. “Okay. Disinfectant first, then I’m gonna take those out and try to do one better so you’re not leaking out of yourself.” She started working swiftly, trying to keep her world small and not think of other, terrible injuries she’d seen and how much more fragile, more human Bex was. “And yeah, fae clinic. They’re not a fan of me, but they take care of their own, which is all I really care about. So, Mina’s got lots of really great options. But--” She took another breath as she soaked another pad and did another pass at Bex’s wound. “That’s not important right now. Right now, I need you to take this--” She reached down for an ice pack and gave it a good crack to activate. “On your head wherever it hurts. And maybe this could be a good time to practice clearing your mind and giving your brain a rest while I finish up. You’ve done a lot of really good thinking, and you’ve got everyone this far, but your brain really needs you to take it easy so it can heal. So you can keep helping Mina later on. Okay?”

Bex was more curious about this fae clinic than she supposed she should’ve been. She winced as Morgan started prodding at her wound, pulling the old stitches out. She wasn’t as strong as Mina, despite being used to the pain, and she let out a short whimper, before she bit the inside of her cheek to quiet herself. She nodded and took the ice pack, pressing it against the large bruise on the side of her face. “N-now? You’re going to do more stitches now?” She didn’t have too much room to complain. She looked back at Mina once more, who was barely holding onto consciousness, and resigned. “I’m-- I don’t think I could, if I tried,” she admitted quietly. She was too worried, too afraid, too full of fear and anxiety. Even if Morgan was here and she knew they were safe-- they were safe because Morgan would never let anything bad happen to either of them, she would never let them die, not in her care-- she couldn’t shake the feeling of panic that had gripped her heart the moment she’d seen that text and ran off into the forest. Frank was still out there. Her mother was waiting for her back home. She’d said things to Mina she couldn’t keep. “He’s still out there,” she said, quieter, “Frank. He…” She wanted to go home, too. Just for a night. Just to make sure Mina made it through the night. “He’s going to try again.”

Morgan had everything ready but Bex was tense and trembling and whimpering and her world simply would not stay small while that was happening. She leaned over into Bex’s view and touched her hand gently to her face. “Hey. Look at me. You are safe, Bex. Right now you are so safe. And even though there is going to be some pain and discomfort while I work, I am not going to hurt you. No one is, not right now. You did so good, getting me here and taking care of Mina and yourself. You did amazing. But now the thing you need to do is stop and put down Frank and your parents anything else you’re carrying in your head right now. Close your eyes, breathe how I taught you, and put it down. And--it’s okay, if you need to cry out some.” She brushed her finger over the little dent in Bex’s cheek where she was biting. “Breathe and put it all down, sweetheart. As much as you can. That is the best and smartest and bravest thing you can try to do right now. And I’ll try to make it so it doesn’t hurt for long, okay?” She gave her as much of a smile as she could and went to work.

Bex blinked and Morgan was in her view, she was the only thing in her view. The more she talked, the more the world behind her head fell away. The cabin, the trees, the quiet, somber sky that was once again fading to dark. She released her bite on her cheek and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Just like Morgan had taught her. In for three. Hold. Out for five. Her body began to relax, even as it trembled uncontrollably. Weak muscles and tired bones and a fever fighting to take control. She swallowed and nodded and tried to push away the thoughts of her parents and Frank and what they’d just been through. Did Morgan even know? Did anyone? How long had they been gone? Days. Three days. This was the third night. “I was so scared,” she finally admitted, her voice small. Morgan was safe. She hoped Mina didn’t hear. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know she was--” a nix. That she’d needed water. “I found water as fast as I could. But I was afraid-- I was afraid I didn’t make it in time.” Heavy, ugly tears streaked down her face and stuck to the ice pack. She didn’t make a noise of it, though. “I can’t lose her,” she added on, somehow even quieter. Her eyes went up to Morgan’s. “I can’t lose you.”

“It’s okay you were scared, anyone would be scared,” Morgan whispered, her eyes fixed on Bex’s injury. “That must have been so much. But you are so strong, so incredible, you didn’t let it stop you from helping. That’s what matters. The thing isn’t to stop being afraid, it’s to stop letting your fear control you. And you did it, my love. Okay? You did everything right.” Her eyes slid up to Bex’s just for a moment. I can’t lose you. It didn’t make any sense to Morgan and she was too preoccupied to hide her confusion. She hadn’t gone anywhere or done anything. She knew when she let the rest of her feelings find her, she was going to be desperately relieved that she had made amends enough to be allowed this close and help this much. How could she be lost if she’d just been here, begging Bex to come back?

She finished and put a good sized bandage over the thing, then she reached for one of Bex’s old jackets and a pyrex of fruit salad and leaned back into her view. “All done,” she beamed. “Sit up and put this on instead of whatever you were wearing and try to eat a little.” She brushed the girl’s matted hair back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You’re safe now,” she repeated, whispering even quieter than before, now that she was close. “I’m going to put everything in the trunk, except for this--” She hefted the grocery bag and set it by Bex’s feet. “And I’m gonna drive us home, and we’re gonna be one heck of a surprise for Deirdre, and we’re gonna be okay. Alright?”

Had Mina been afraid? Bex wasn’t sure. She remembered Mina pleading her to leave her in the clearing, held down by that trap, because Frank was going to come back. He was going to kill them both. She remembered the look on Mina’s face when she’d finally woken up on the couch and watched Bex move around the cabin, trying her damndest to keep them alive. Had they both just been afraid for each other? Her gaze drew back to Morgan as she was handed more things. You did everything right. She didn’t feel like she’d done anything right. She hadn’t known Mina needed water to heal, she hadn’t known any of it. She’d gotten there and just done whatever needed to be done. She’d almost given up so many times, but the thought of letting Mina die had pulled on her weary, exhausted muscles and made her move more, further, just keep going. She let out a long breath and pulled on the warm hoodie Morgan had brought her. It felt soft and cozy and familiar. It even smelled like Morgan’s house. She wrapped her arms around herself and let some of her tears dry up on the neck of the jacket.

Morgan set something by her feet, and she was trying to smile and be light, and Bex looked up at her. “Can I hug you?” was all she asked. She wanted to hug Morgan. She wanted to not just be told she was safe, but also feel safe. And without question, she knew it would feel that way in Morgan’s embrace.

“O-of course,” Morgan replied, suddenly struggling to keep her voice even. “Anytime.” And without any further hesitation she drew Bex into her arms and held her close. The word grew and Morgan ached with how much she missed the girl and how desperately she wanted things to be better. Her insides were melting, the only way she could clear her vision was to let some of her building tears fall, and stars above, she still had to drive. She swallowed, shoving down the lump that had formed in her throat. “I mean it. I love you, sweetheart.”

Bex grabbed onto Morgan and held so tightly she was worried, at first, that she might hurt her. But then she remembered Morgan was a zombie, that she couldn’t feel as well, and she held on tighter, burying her face into Morgan’s shoulder as she let herself cry a little more. Finally, something steady and solid and grounding. There was no more cramped cabin or rain or worry, no more threat of being found and killed, no more anxiety about whether she’d fall asleep and wake up next to a dead body. Finally, she could rest. “I love you, too,” she said into her shirt, through thick tears, and a strained voice. And she meant it, just as much as she had meant it when she’d said it to Mina, however long ago. And she was sorry, so sorry, it had taken her this long to realize it. That she’d had to destroy everything before realizing maybe love mattered more. She drew in another breath and tried to blink away some of the tears. “I have to go back to them,” she said quietly, so quietly. It sounded painful, as if she were saying it through a mouthful of blood. “I can’t come home yet.”

For a while, Morgan didn’t say anything. She had thought and hoped that she still mattered to Bex as much as before, but it was different, hearing her say it while held safe like the little girl she’d never gotten to be. After all this time, right when things were only going to get worse for her. “I know,” Morgan said into the girl’s hair. It hid some of the defeat in her voice, but not much. “I know. All of it. You can call a car from the house, or I can try to get you to the ferry before it closes. But we have to get Mina to the pool first. That’s not me wanting to keep you safe. She needs freshwater as soon as possible. We can figure you out after that.” She blinked her eyes clear and pulled on the hope in her soul to summon a smile before pulling back to wipe Bex’s face.

“I…” Bex started. It was a bad idea, she knew it was a bad idea, but her parents had no idea where she was, and what was one more night, anyway? She’d been making bad decisions all weekend. “I want to stay with Mina tonight.” Mina was all that mattered to her right now. Getting Mina home and to her pool, where the water she had bonded with, the house they called home, would heal her right. She could sleep in the water and Bex could know that she was safe and taken care of. She still wanted to stay with her, next to her, if she could. She would sleep on the hard ground next to the pool if Morgan would let her, but she knew she wouldn’t. “Just one night.” She just wanted one night away from that house, that place, one night that wasn’t a fight for her life or Mina’s. Just a safe space, to fall asleep and dream and not have to wake up to unending pain.

Morgan’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t expected that, and she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be thrilled or worried. She couldn’t deny that a night’s rest would help Bex stand a better chance against her mother, and few things in the world made her happier than the thought of Bex tucked safely under her roof and learning to smile again. That was it, wasn’t it? She had to take a night of this, and somehow let it go in the morning, knowing exactly what would happen. And now Morgan did remember what had become of her body, all her rot and necrosis pressed against Bex. She drew away slowly and shouldered into the jacket she’d originally brought for Mina, before Bex took notice. “If that’s what you really want, then that’s what we’ll do,” she said softly. She picked up everything from the ground and loaded the trunk and came around to the front seat, igniting the car to life. But she took another moment to breathe for herself. It was about to be one heck of a drive.

Bex wasn’t sure that was something she could ask for, but she’d asked anyway. She wasn’t sure she could actually walk through that house and sleep in her bed, in her room, and get up the next day and leave. She sat back in the seat, before turning once again to look back at Mina as Morgan made her way around the car. Was she asleep finally? She couldn’t tell. She hoped so. She needed to sleep. Bex looked across the seats to Morgan as she slid into the car and started it up. She felt oddly out of place, yet perfectly in the right spot. Morgan and Mina were her home, and no matter where she was, wherever they were, would feel as such. Even in a car, in the middle of a forest, full of blood and nightmares, and an iron knife that shared their pain. “I don’t think they know,” she said, settling back into the seat, looking down at the food container she’d forgotten Morgan had handed her. She pried it open and pulled out a piece of cantaloupe.. “What happened. Where...I am.” She didn’t think her mother knew what Frank had done, and she wondered who might be punished worse, once all the dust settled. “We were gone three days,” she went on quietly, her eyes drooping. She was growing tired as well, “this would’ve been the third night.”

There was conversation coming from the front of the car that Mina could only somewhat make out as her body decided that the best course of action, at least for the time being, was to not move at all. To shut down. So Mina let the voices fade into background noise. They’d made it. They were safe, or as safe as they could be. She didn’t feel like she had to run, not at the moment. She didn’t think she could, really. All she could think about was not passing out. She didn’t want to pass out. She couldn’t pass out. Mina tried to listen, tried to hear the conversation, but their voices were low, and she was steadily losing consciousness. She could pass out, if she needed to. She didn’t want to, but she could. She wasn’t going to, but she could. That was Mina’s line of thought as she set down the food, only a few bites taken from it, and slowly curled in on herself, moving to protect her side. She was safe. Two of her favorite people were with her, and maybe it wasn’t going to last, but she was safe. She blinked, not really seeing much in the semi-darkness of the car, and watched the front seat, making out the shapes and shadows of Bex and Morgan. As long as they were there, as long as they were okay, it was alright. She could close her eyes for a moment. She’d open them again when they made it home.

Morgan drove as fast as she could, barreling through downtown and up to the East End. She punched a button on her keys and the lights in the driveway came on, harsh and bright after all their fumbling in the nothing-light of dusk. She took a second to gather herself again, knowing she had to let go of her jacket to take care of Mina,that as strange and wrong-looking she seemed to herself, it sealed the guarantee that she could carry the girls anywhere tonight, that Odell was watching them and any good feeling that came out of this wasn’t anything to keep, that sometimes you didn’t need a curse to keep on suffering. “I’ve got this. Wait here, okay?” She mumbled, sliding out the car and dumping Mina’s old jacket in her seat. With any luck, Bex was asleep and wouldn’t know anything until she was safe inside.

Something was wrong with Morgan, but Bex didn’t want to ask. Some part of her knew, didn’t it? The rest of the drive was silent and Bex turned to check on Mina in the back several times, doing her best not to tug on the new stitches in her side as she did. She wished she were back there with her, holding her, but it was best for both of them she was up front. Finally, they pulled up to the house and Bex stayed still for a long time, not even unbuckling, as she stared at the front door. The bright porch light illuminated it and the front of the house, and she didn’t even swivel her head when Morgan spoke up again and slid out of the car to grab Mina. It was only once they were off inside that Bex unbuckled herself and got out of the car, limping over to the lawn, to the porch, and stared up at the front door. At the spot where she’d last been before she’d betrayed both of them and walked down the lawn into her mother’s arms. Her gaze followed the path she’d taken and stuck on the spot in the street where the car had been. She wondered if she knew yet, now that Bex was in town. She wondered how wide her mother’s net really was.

Mina was aware of being carried. That was the first thing that came back to her. “I’m awake,” she muttered, eyes still closed as she leaned her head against Morgan’s shoulder. “I’m awake.” She was awake enough. “I can’t walk right now, which… I want to say that I can, but I can’t.” Her tongue felt even looser than it had in the haze of half-sleep and achiness that was settling over her body. She wanted to walk. She wanted to prove that she could walk, that she didn’t need assistance. But she couldn’t walk, and she needed help, desperately, and it was almost a relief to know that Morgan wasn’t going to let her go. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I’m sorry you keep having to come get me like this. I’m sorry I didn’t protect her. I’m sorry she still got hurt. I-- I’m just sorry.”

“Shh,” Morgan soothed, walking faster toward the pool. “That doesn’t matter right now. If you want to be sorry, you have to live long enough to do something about it. So, live first; sorry later.” Then she was wading through the reeds and water flowers they had lined the steps with and cursing the way water made the world turn slow. No running. No plunging. Only a slow descent to the bottom of the pool, Mina still cradled in her arms.

It had been a while since she had spent time down here, even longer since she’d done it in the dark. Around her, stems floated by like wraiths, the water that pressed on them stretched before her eyes as if it were infinite. Morgan wanted to ask if Mina was okay, if anything felt better yet, if she wanted to be alone or if she wanted Morgan to stay. But at this hour, from this deep, they were in a dark neither the stars nor the warm lights of the house could not penetrate. So, when her worry for Bex started to grate on her insides, she gave Mina a squeeze and kissed her head and climbed up to the surface.

“Bex—?” She called.

Bex needed to go inside, she knew she did, but instead, she sank to a sit on the porch. She wanted to go inside and make sure Mina was okay, make sure Morgan was, make sure she was, but instead all she could do was stare out across the lawn into the darkness of night and watch the lights of the houses around the neighborhood flick on and off. She could just wait here. She didn’t want to go inside without Morgan, she wasn’t sure she could. Mina was home now, but was she? Could she be? Would her mother come for her in the morning again? A voice called out to her. “Here,” she said quietly, then, louder, “I-I’m over here.” They’d lived through all of that, and for what? For Bex to simply go back to her parents’ and fade into oblivion once again? Her eyes turned to a figure moving towards her, her vision dull and blurry from exhaustion. No, she decided. No. She would not fade.

It had been weeks since Mina felt like she was home. It had been weeks since she was home, since she’d felt comfort and peace and the relief that came with knowing she was going to be somewhere and find rest. Actual, proper rest, not just sleep that had been gleaned for a few measly hours face down in a pond in the middle of the woods. Actual rest. She stayed at the bottom of the pool for a few minutes when Morgan left, gills filtering in air as she curled in on herself. She was still in pain, but it wasn’t as bad. It was faded, dull around the edges, and she wasn’t worried about that. It was like the dulled pain that came from medicine. It was a kindness. Finally, she kicked up to the surface and swam over to the edge, resting against it as she listened for Morgan or Bex to come back or go inside.

Morgan walked, drenched, over to where Bex sat, ready to pick her up next when she remembered she was corpse cold and soaking wet and the last thing Bex needed was to roll the dice with pneumonia. Swearing under her breath, she went back to the car and dried herself off with Mina’s jacket, and swore again when she realized that left her with nothing to cover up with. She gathered everything in the backseat into her arms and hauled it as far as the front stoop before sinking next to Bex.

“I felt her, before I climbed out,” she said. “I think she’s gonna be okay.” That’s what she hoped at least. “So, talk to me about you.”

Bex watched Morgan stop at the car before making her way over to the porch. She looked down at the things deposited on the ground in front of them, then over to Morgan. In the bright light of the porch, it was clear, now, that her skin was paler, her eyes were sunken. She looked how she supposed Mina felt. Half dead. Maybe more. “That’s my fault, isn’t it?” she asked, reaching out and placing her hand on Morgan’s wet arm. “Because my mom…” What was there to tell of herself? All the days blended into one. “I’ll be fine. I wasn’t the one attacked.” She knew she mattered, too, to Morgan, to Mina, but she didn’t care about herself right now. She wanted to go inside, but her feet stuck to the ground. “I’m just tired. Is she-- is she asleep?”

For the first time, Morgan shied away from Bex’s touch. There wasn’t any talking around it; she was lucky Bex had been too stressed not to realize Morgan was at least three different not-alive colors before now. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” she mumbled. “And since you aren’t responsible for your mother’s actions, I’m pretty sure all this--” she gestured, flippant and bitter, “Is strictly a me and Odell thing. You didn’t do anything.” It took her longer than it might have a month ago, but Morgan found the strong part of herself she wanted somewhere at the bottom of her soul and pulled a kind smile and looked back at the girl. “Not sure if she’s asleep, but she is definitely resting, which is what you need to do too. I know I’m all--”Gross, extra-zombie. “But do you think you can sling your arms around me so I can carry you instead of making two trips. You need your rest too, even more than Mina.”

Bex pulled her hand away. “Sorry…” She didn’t know what it was like, to feel the way Morgan did, decaying, slowly, as she was being starved, but she hadn’t expected her to pull away. She folded her hand back into her lap. “That’s kinda why...it’s my fault, isn’t it?” she glanced over at Morgan. “I didn’t do anything.” She should’ve done something. She wished she had the courage to stand up to her mother. She scared her more than Frank and a knife, or a thunderstorm in the middle of a forest. Morgan was being Morgan, though, even in the face of her situation, and maybe, if she could be brave, so could Bex. “Can I sit with her?” she asked, scooting a little closer as she wrapped her arms around Morgan’s shoulders for support. “Just for a little bit.”

Morgan hefted her small mountain of supplies in one arm and scooped Bex against her hip with the other. She just managed to balance everything long enough to fish out her keys and get them inside. “Not until you’ve showered and changed into something clean,” she said. “And I’m sorry about--” She looked down at her hands as she set the girl down. “I just don’t like being this way. I’m trying to feel better about how it looks, but it’s hard when I know it means I’m more dangerous and easier for hunters to spot. I don’t mind being close to you.” She pulled her into another hug. “You are always wonderful to be close to. And maybe you haven’t found your moment for digging up whatever their weakness is yet, but you haven’t done anything that needs to be punished.”

Bex leaned against Morgan and realized how much her body was sagging, glad to have support. She wanted to reach out and help Morgan carry the supplies, but her arms didn’t move when she asked them to, staying limply by her side. It was purple and bruised where she’d landed on her wrist. She’d forgotten about it. “I can’t go up there,” she said, looking down the hall towards the stairs that led up to her bedroom and her bathroom and all the things she wished she had held onto and wished she could have again. “I won't come back down.” At least she was telling the truth now. No fae magic needed. She’d been telling a lot of truths this weekend. “Will you go sit with her? Until I get back?” She didn’t want Mina to be alone. She’d been alone when Frank had attacked her and she’d been alone for all the days they’d been apart. She didn’t want her to be alone anymore.

“Okay. Downstairs shower that way, I’ll leave you some clothes by the door,” Morgan said. “You better be dry and squeaky clean when I see you again. There’s an extra smoothie in the fridge, so maybe come out with that too to tide you over until I can get delivery. I’ll be out by the pool.” She gave Bex a little squeeze and shooed her away and went to work putting everything she’d packed back where they belonged, because if she watched Bex go or lingered on casual ease she’d spoken (like everything was okay, like they had all the time in the world, like their life had never been shattered) she would feel the truth and it would cut her and she would not be able to get to the pool. So, food back in the fridge. Make a restock list for the first aid tub. Wet stuff in the wet laundry basket she’d gotten after Mina started staying. Clothes outside the tiny downstairs bathroom. Chinese food on speed dial.

She turned on all the lights downstairs, and the ones on the back porch, and came back out to the yard where Mina rested against the pool steps. This, she reminded herself, this much might actually be real. “Hey,” she called softly, sitting down nearby, legs in the water. “I hope you’re not too sleepy, because I kind of already ordered you sushi. How are you feeling?”

Looking up as Morgan sat near the water, Mina managed to smile. “Hi.” She rested her chin on her hands, eyes closing slight. “I feel… like I’ve been stabbed and shot and caught in a bear trap.” She opened her eyes and looked up. “So, really, not as bad as it could be. Bad, but I don’t think it’s going to kill me.” The thought of food made her stomach turn, but she tried to shove that down. She needed to eat. She knew she needed to eat. “I appreciate that,” she murmured. “I’m not-- I don’t want to go to sleep right now. I don’t think I should. Just in case.” Just in case things went wrong. Just in case her wounds stopped healing for some reason. Just in case. “How’s Bex?”

“Bex is taking a much needed shower and will come to see you when she looks a little less like something fished out of a muddy lake. And you--” Morgan brushed back Mina’s wet hair. “Don’t need to ‘just in case’ anything. You’re safe, and you know exactly how dangerous sleep deprivation is, and I literally never sleep and Deirdre’s only out for five, maybe six hours a night? Let us ‘just in case’ for now. You, relax and let yourself heal. Tomorrow we can see about a house call from a fae doctor. I’m sure she’ll be understanding for a nix. It’s okay, Mina. Mission over. You got you and Bex safe.”

As nice as the shower felt, Bex made it as fast as she could. She scrubbed her entire body twice over, and washed her hair out until the drain ran clean, no more mud, no more blood, no more tears. But now that she’d stopped moving, her body felt heavy. She could feel everything that adrenaline and fear had stopped her from feeling in the past few days. Everything hurt. Still, she turned off the shower and hopped out. She dried and dressed quickly and tried to not look too long at herself in the mirror, at the bruise on her face, the bruises on her stomach, the bruise on her wrist. Bruises healed, they went away. It was why they only ever left bruises, the occasional broken bone. She shook the thought away and grabbed the smoothie from the fridge and made her way over to the back porch, only limping a little. The clothes Morgan had given her didn’t hide the tendrils of burns she’d caused herself carrying Mina through the forest, but she did her own best to ignore them.

She was quiet as she came out, watching the other two in the light of the porch for a moment. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” she murmured. Bex came over and sat next to Morgan, refraining from putting her own feet in, even if she wanted to. She knew the water was cool, and she was already fighting off a fever again. “How-- how are you feeling? Is this better?”

“I haven’t slept well in so long,” Mina said quietly, leaning into Morgan’s touch. Her hand was cold. It felt nice. “The iron burns on my side are just infected. Not bad, but I don’t know if it will heal well, even in the water, and I’ve never been stabbed with a cold iron anything, just slashed at with it, and so I don’t know if-- I just don’t know much about it. It hurts. It’s not as bad but it hurts.” She sighed, eyes closing, and she nodded her head. “Mission over.” Mission only marginally failed. She and Bex were both alive. That was what mattered. Frank was still alive, too, though. Mina’s eyes popped open. She was going to kill him. It was best not to mention that, though, as Bex came out of the house and sat down. “Better. This is better.” Almost anything was better than stumbling through the woods. Mina smiled at Bex. “How are you feeling?”

“Cold iron is pretty bad,” Morgan admitted. “And since you went without help for so long, it’ll probably scar, But I’ve seen worse.” She would have gone on, but Bex arrived, and Mina brightened and it was so good to have the family she wanted almost complete, she re-worked the grittier words she’d been preparing and reached out for Bex so she had one hand on each girl.

“Wow, I know I’m dead, but I’m pretty sure I can smell the difference from here,” she teased. “You look good, sweetheart. Now, because I know the two of you are going to be worrying about this, let me tell you, no bullshit: this is not the most terrifying set of Warden injuries to walk through this house. And our Mina is way too resilient to go down to an idiot like Frank. It might take awhile, and putting strain and trying to push through injuries will absolutely make it worse, but if Deirdre can survive worse--and I do mean worse, she wasn’t able to walk unassisted for weeks--and still be the most attractive person in White Crest, then I don’t see why Mina shouldn’t get back to being her stubborn self eventually, too.” She turned to Bex and gave her a more thorough look. She was probably due for more Tylenol soon. “I got you your favorite from the Chinese place, but you have dinner for breakfast tomorrow if it feels like too much for your stomach.”

Afraid was the first word that came to Bex’s mind, but she was so tired of feeling afraid. “Like garbage,” she said instead, tracing her finger around the rim of the smoothie cup. “But better.” She scrunched her nose at Morgan. “You try being trapped in a cabin for three days,” she grumbled, but she wasn’t upset and it wasn’t angry. It was just quiet. She looked back down at Mina in the water, still full of scales, and resisted the urge to wade in and kiss her. Now that they were back, she wasn’t sure if they’d get a chance to do that again. Not anytime soon, she supposed. She was even still hesitant to let herself believe it would ever happen again. She preoccupied herself with drinking the smoothie as she listened to Morgan talk. Our Mina. And Mina really was hers, wasn’t she? Even if she had to go home tomorrow. Frank’s name made her inside clench with anger again, but her tired body released it almost immediately. There was nothing to be done about it now, or even anytime soon, so she had to let go of it. For now. She just smiled at Mina, knowing Morgan’s words were true. She would get better. Now that she was home, she would get better. “This is fine for now,” she said, shaking the smoothie cup. “I-- should probably leave early tomorrow.” In case her mother’s prying eyes found her here again and the consequences turned out even worse. She didn’t look at Mina as she said it.

“If I was worried about scars, I think I’d have had a lot of complications in life starting about seventeen years ago,” Mina said, keeping her voice light. She looked at Bex with concern but said, “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I really am.” She didn’t like the idea of things taking awhile to heal, of this lasting that long. Broken bones were bad enough. She didn’t want to spend weeks trying to heal from this. She wanted to be well enough to kill Frank as soon as possible, before she lost the nerve. It was all she’d been able to think about since she looked into his eyes, and, now, it was still there, still important as she rested in the comfort of her own home. “Am I really that stubborn?” she muttered. She didn’t think she was that stubborn. She was raised to be resilient, to keep going no matter what, but she didn’t know if that was stubbornness. She looked at Bex sadly, then to Morgan, as if the older woman could somehow convince her to stay. Mina understood Bex’s reasoning, though, as much as she hated it. “How… How early?”

Bex just smiled at Mina. She didn't really have the heart to tell her right now that she really only felt better because Mina was okay. She was home, in her pool, and a doctor was coming tomorrow and barring any huge misfortunes-- which were so unlikely now that they were with Morgan, she would never let anyone hurt Mina in her own home-- Mina was going to live through the night. It was the first time Bex was sure of that in days-- Mina would live to wake up tomorrow. "You are," she agreed, glancing at Morgan, "so stubborn." She went quiet again. She didn't know the answer, not really, just that she didn't want to risk anything, not when Mina was in critical condition and Morgan was falling apart, literally. "Probably…early enough to catch the first ferry." Six am. She looked at Mina just as sadly. "It won't-- this isn't forever," she said, even if she was unsure herself. "I'm going to fight back."

“The most stubborn,” Morgan agreed. She tried not to tense in the quiet, to not fight herself against what she understood was best for the moment even if it was also the worst for everyone. “That doesn’t change anything I said earlier,” she murmured. “I’ll set an alarm and make sure you have something to eat…” What Bex said next made her heart clench. She looked over at her, wide eyes cautious. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. Don’t give us more hope if it isn’t real. But Bex seemed...determined, if a bit uncertain, and everything in Morgan burned to believe her. Before she could come up with anything substantial to say, two sets of headlights came up the drive, and soon there was the unmistakable sound of Deirdre giving the delivery person a hard time. Morgan sagged with more kinds of relief than she dared count and pulled her feet out of the water. “I’m proud of you,” she said to Bex. “I hope you do. Now if you’ll excuse me, the food is here and we all deserve five easy minutes with the girls we really want to be with.” She winked at the pair and darted off to the driveway.

Mina’s eyes followed Morgan as she walked away, out the backyard and to the front. She eventually settled back, moving her head to rest on her arms as she looked back up at Bex. This wasn’t forever. Nothing was forever, she’d always known. Good things went away, but bad things did, too. This wasn’t forever. And there were things that Mina could do while Bex was gone. She was still restless, but she was going to stop running so much. She had to stop running so much. And Bex would be back. Eventually. This wasn’t forever. “I believe you,” she said. She pulled one of her hands out of the water. Scales, webbing, claws, scars; there was a bit of it torn between her pinky and ring finger. This was who she was. She held it out to Bex. “I believe you. Just-- You have to be good to yourself, too. If I do, you do, too. You know that, right?”

Bex didn’t hesitate to take Mina’s hand, wrapping her own around it. With webbing between Mian’s fingers, she couldn’t quite intertwine theirs, but she curled her own around Mina’s and scooted closer. “I don’t know how long it will take,” she admitted quietly, “I can’t-- I have to be careful about this. Whatever secret they’re hiding, it-- it destroys people.” She’d watched it happen too many times. She leaned her head down enough to brush her lips against Mina’s knuckles, examining the torn webbing between two of her fingers. “I’ll try,” she answered. And she would. She didn’t need to be bad to herself when her parents did enough of that for her. She used to, but she didn’t anymore. Hadn’t in a long time. She tugged on Mina’s hand gently. “Can I kiss you again?” she asked quietly.

“Then be careful,” Mina said. “Be careful but-- but I’d really like it if you came back to me. Please.” That was all she wanted. She wanted Bex to be safe. She wanted.. She desperately wanted her to come back. She didn’t want to lose her again. And, if she couldn’t keep her forever (because Mina still had trouble believing in something as impossible as forever), then she wanted to keep her for as long as she could. “I don’t care how long it takes. I really don’t. Just-- Whenever you can. If you still want to.” She squeezed Bex’s hand before making the webbing go away and lacing their fingers. She wanted to be close. She wanted to be closer. She sat up and leaned in, moving herself up towards Bex. She was close. She wanted to be closer. “Yes,” she murmured. “Yes. You can kiss me again.”

“I will be,” Bex said, nodding, “I will be. I pr--” No, she couldn’t. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. There was going to be a time where she’d have to be careless or brave or not careful. The close she got to the truth, the less careful she was going to have to be, she knew that much. “I will.” She wanted nothing more than to be able to come home to Mina, to this house, this pool, her bed. She watched as Mina intertwined their fingers, and it looked so much less painful now than when she’d tried to change herself back at the cabin. Bex squeezed her hand. Mina was close, but she wanted to be closer. It was a bad idea, but she didn’t care-- Bex slid into the pool on the first step so she could be closer and pulled Mina into her and kissed her. Finally really kissed her, like she’d been wanting to the past few days. Like she’d been wanting to the past few weeks. One hand went up into her wet hair and even if her stiff body ached, she just didn’t care. She wanted to kiss her because tomorrow it would all go away again. “I love you,” she said against her lips, “I’ll come back to you. I promise.”

“Just— Just try to be. That’s all I ask,” Mina said. She knew how hard it could be to be careful in this town, this world. Not that Mina had ever really tried. Still, it was almost impossible. That wasn’t a promise Mina wanted Bex to make. She just wanted her to try. She almost protested as Bex got into the water with her, but any protestations died on her lips as she was kissed, as they were as close as they could be, at least like this. She sighed into it, relaxed, at peace. This. She wanted this. She wished she could keep this. “I love you, too,” she murmured. She traced her fingers against Bex’s cheek. “So much. So very much.” Mina kissed her again. “Which is why I release you from that promise.” She tucked a strand of hair behind Bex’s ear. It was a nice promise but a dangerous one. If it couldn’t be upheld, it would be a killer. “I don’t need you to promise me anything. I believe you.”

Bex wanted to make the promise not for Mina-- not quite-- but for herself. It wasn’t really a promise to Mina. It was a promise to herself that she had something to fight for, something, someone she was beholden to. Someone she wanted to come back to. She understood the consequences of a promise like that, after the things she’d seen in Mina’s dream, after the way her body had violently fought her when she’d missed their hot springs date because Frank had taken her. But Mina released her and she knew why. She licked her lips, tasting Mina on them. She liked that better than the smoothie. “Okay,” she said. She leaned in to kiss her again, slow and deliberate, arms wrapping around her bare back. She was going to come back to her. She was. The scary part was not knowing when-- and in what condition.

“Okay,” Mina echoed before she melted into the kiss again, into the feeling of it, into the moment. She was bone tired and sick and hurt, and she wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment forever. Covered in scratches and scales and only half-clothed; if she was in any better state, she’d be self-conscious about it. Instead, it was hard to cling to modesty at this point. Beside, now there was really nothing that Bex hadn’t already seen. There was no reason to feel shame. Still. “We… should really stop. Before Morgan or Deirdre or both comes back,” she said, though she was still kissing Bex back, the words muffled against her lips. She thought about pulling away, even broke the kiss briefly, but she stayed close, barely a breath between them. She rested her forehead against Bex’s and savored the moment.

“I don’t want to stop,” Bex said against Mina. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to stay right here, kissing her, holding her, knowing that in this moment she was hers and they didn’t have to worry about bleeding out or hurting one another or catching a fever. Sure, they both ached and they were both beyond tired, but she wanted to stay here, and kiss her, just a little longer. Just a little more. Even if Morgan came back. How many times had they walked in on her and Deirdre kissing? They were due a moment of their own. Mina’s forehead rest against her own and she looked into her brown eyes and remembered seeing them look up at her from under the surface of the lake. They were beautiful then and they were beautiful now. “You’re so beautiful,” she said, unable to keep words inside that often would have stuck in her throat. She kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw, her neck. “I love all of you,” she mumbled into her skin, “all of you.”

“I don’t particularly want to, either,” Mina said, even though they should definitely stop. Really, they should stop. They needed to stop. They weren’t stopping. Honestly, Mina was going to be mortified when one of the older women walked back out and saw them, but, in that moment, she really didn’t care. She couldn’t. She could barely even think. “You-- I-- Ich liebe dich,” she murmured. “Ich liebe dich mehr jeden tag.” I love you. I love you more every day. And it was true. It was all true. Mina could only say the truth. She only wanted to say the truth. She had nothing more to hide. She didn’t think there was anything else about her to hide. “So much. You’re so much to me. Everything.”

Bex knew what that meant, actually. She remembered from what little Mina had taught her. She smiled against her skin before lifting her head to kiss her lips again, soft and slow and lingering, even as she knew Morgan was coming back out soon. “I know,” she muttered into the kiss, “I know.” And she did, she did. She knew she loved her and she knew Mina knew she loved her back. They’d finally said it, and Bex couldn’t stay. She wondered if it would be more or less painful to leave now. Maybe, with the promise of returning, it all wouldn’t hurt so much. Maybe, with hope for something good again, it wouldn’t be so tiring. But for now, she would kiss Mina until someone made her stop.

Beyond the young witch and the fae she loved, another couple much like them embraced. Morgan hadn’t stopped talking since she’d run into her love’s arms. Even as she kissed her, frenzied and excited and so, so, very relieved, she was tumbling through the story. The girls were stranded, they were here, well Bex was only a little here and she didn’t want to think about that, but they were here right now and Deirdre should’ve seen them in that run down little station and how brave they were and how well they took care of each other and it shouldn’t be funny at all because Morgan hadn’t been sure Mina would be okay until they were talking by the pool, but she’d never seen any people so afraid and fearless at once since she had stood in the forest a year ago and told Deirdre she loved her. And it was stupid, so stupid to think that anything would go well for them from this absurd moment of recognition, but what if it did?

“This, all of us being here, it’s only seventy-five percent real at best, and it all turns into smashed pumpkins tomorrow, but the way we love each other is real. Just as much as I love you. So we can act like we can have the rest of this, right?” She asked, mumbling the words into her love’s neck as she kissed up to her face. It was the kind of question that wasn’t a question at all, because Deirdre loved her enough to say of course, of course my love, and Morgan knew it.

And so under the cover of indigo clouds and fading stars, they returned to the girls and teased them as if they had never stopped and picnicked with their styrofoam plates in the grass and shared their secret constellations as though this was a summer dream. And later, when the need for rest couldn’t be denied, Morgan and Deirdre lay sprawled with Bex in the great room, windows cracked, just in case Mina called out in the night. Morgan didn’t call it keeping watch or taking shifts, even if she did periodically get up to look a little closer at the water as she adjusted the air or retrieved another pillow, another book. It was a bubble of a dream, held up by tired smiles and long looks. Morgan settled back into her spot around Deirdre as the sky started to pale and closed her eyes. It was a dream, yes. That didn’t mean she wanted to watch when it broke.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: mina #chatzy: morgan #domestic abuse tw #head injury tw #medical blood tw #mina #morgan #tHE CONCLUSION #FINALLY #it's only love

6 notes · View notes

ddixons-angel · 4 years

Text

Fated: Season 5

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: So the last two chapters have been rather depressing with only a little bit of light at the end but barely anything that passes as fluff, I swear it does get better in this chapter though!! Please bear with me~~ :D I also completely forgot I chose this gif xD

Chapter 7

The weather was not kind to the group as they all travelled down the road. It was scorching hot with the sun beating down on them. The tree sap Gloria had gathered for the group could only do so much for their hydration as she was only able to collect just a little more than half a bottle. Daryl was still pushing himself away from Gloria and even the rest of the group. Glenn had tried to offer him water but like he did with Gloria, Daryl brushed him off completely.

“Tell ‘em I went lookin’ for water.” Daryl tells Abraham then he walks off into the woods.

Gloria sighs as she watches him leave the group. Carol pats her shoulder as she walks beside her, Gloria glances at her and smiles softly. Daryl still hadn’t spoken to her yet, it seemed as though he was avoiding her whenever she tried to approach him. She tried to brush it off as him not wanting to lash out at her again, but it still stung.

“What’s that?” Glenn says, looking in the distance.

In the middle of the road, there seemed to be a package of something that looked like bottles. As the group came closer, they saw that they were indeed bottles full of water. They all circled around it cautiously, not knowing what to do with it. They were all on borderline dehydration so the fact that they had bottles upon bottles of water in front of them was beyond tempting. Rick goes up to the bottles and picks up the paper on top of it.

“‘From a friend’.” Rick reads, then scoffs and looks around.

Shortly, Daryl comes out from the woods and he has a questioning face as he approaches Rick who hands him the paper. Gloria frowns when she notices burn marks on his left hand, he’s never had those before and they looked rather fresh.

“Well, what else are we gonna do?” Tara asks, looking around the group.

“Not this,” Rick says firmly, “we don’t know who left it.”

“If that’s a trap, we already happen to be in it. But I, for one, would like to think it is indeed from a friend.” Eugene says, his eyes never leaving the bottles of water.

“What if it isn’t? What if they put something in it?” Carol says.

“There’s no way this is safe, it’s too good to be true.” Gloria says, shaking her head.

Eugene doesn’t heed their word and goes for the water, picking up a bottle and opening it, calling it ‘quality assurance’. Rosita and Tara call out to him in protest and as he is about to take a drink, Abraham knocks it out of his hand, the contents of the bottle spilling all over the ground.

“We can’t.” Rick says, eyeing Eugene.

There is tension within the group as they all stay silent, then they all look up as thunder rumbles. Soon enough, it begins to rain on them. Rick instructs them all to use anything they have to collect the rainwater. However, before they were able to, another roar of thunder sounds and in the distance, they all see dark storm clouds rolling in.

“There’s a barn!” Daryl shouts to Rick over the sound of pouring rain.

“Where?” he shouts back.

The group follows Daryl’s lead to a barn nearby. Rick opens the door and he, Maggie, Carol, and Abraham scope out the place to make sure no one is inside. Once it’s cleared, the rest of the group file inside. The group dry themselves off then get ready to rest for the night. Daryl had started a fire for the group on one side of the barn and when he deemed it good enough, he went off to sit by the wall across the door with his crossbow. Gloria rummages through the bag of medical supplies, taking out an alcohol swab, a bandaid and an ointment for cuts and burns Steven had packed for her. She makes her way over to Daryl and kneels down beside him.

“You don’t have to talk to me,” Gloria tells him, her voice soft, “but let me take care of the burns on your hand. The last thing you want is for it to get infected.”

Daryl glances at her then down at the ground again, still not saying anything. However, he nods, granting her permission to help him with his burns. A small smile tugs on Gloria’s lips then she carefully takes his hand and places it in her lap. She opens the alcohol swab and proceeds to clean the burn, furrowing her brow when she sees that it’s a circular burn, like that of a cigarette. She sighs but doesn’t say anything about it, not wanting Daryl to pull away from her any more than he already has. Once cleaned, Gloria opens the tube of ointment and squeezes a small amount onto her finger, then gently dabs it onto the wound. She then patches up the burn with a bandaid.

“All done,” she says with a small smile as she looks at him.

“Thanks...” Daryl says, biting his lip hesitantly.

Gloria closes the tube of ointment then hands it to him, “I’ll leave this with you, there’s more bandaids in the bag if you need to change it.”

Without waiting for him to respond, she gets up and walks towards the door. A part of her was hoping that Daryl would grab her hand and pull her back to sit with him, but all she felt was disappointment when he didn’t. They’d drifted so far apart in the last few weeks, it was almost as if they reverted back to when they had just met at the quarry.

Gloria makes her way to the door, wanting to tighten the chain that was holding it together so that the others wouldn’t be disturbed by its constant clanging. She is about to reach up to grab the chain when she sees a herd of walkers just outside the barn. She lets out a gasp at the sight, then pushes the door closed with her entire body.

“Shit!” Gloria curses as the walkers had made it to the door, pushing and trying to get into the barn.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold the door on her own, there were way too many walkers. Daryl was instantly by her side, pushing the door when he saw her struggling. Her eyes connect with his and he nods at her, reassuring her silently that they would be okay. Soon, they’re joined by Maggie, Glenn, Carol, Rick, Michonne, Sasha, Abraham, Rosita, Tara, Noah, Eugene, Gabriel, and Carl. Their entire group, minus Judith, were working together as an entire unit to keep the barn safe from walkers.

---

The morning was peaceful compared to the night before. The storm had passed in the night, allowing the group to get some rest. Gloria’s eyes flutter open at the sound of birds chirping outside the barn, a familiar scent of smoke and leather consuming her. She sits up and rubs her eyes before realizing that there was something covering her for warmth as she slept. A smile tugs at her lips as she recognizes the angel wings on the leather vest. Gloria looks around and spots Daryl awake and fidgeting with his crossbow. Holding the vest in her hands, she gets up and makes her way over to him.

“Thanks,” she says as she hands it to him.

Daryl stops fidgeting with his weapon and looks at her for a moment before shrugging and taking it back from her, “‘ts nothin’... ya looked cold...”

Gloria smiles as she watches him shrug the vest back on his shoulders, “I was, but then I wasn’t, thanks to you.”

He lets out a small scoff but doesn’t look at her, seemingly avoiding her gaze. He is about to say something else when the door to the barn opens and Maggie calls their attention. Shortly after, she brings in a man who introduces himself as Aaron. The sudden appearance of a complete stranger rattles them all and they are now on full alert.

It turns out that the group was being watched by Aaron and his friend. Maggie and Sasha decided to bring him in after he approached them both, only to be interrogated by Rick. Aaron told them all about his camp, a community called Alexandria, and wanted to bring them all back with him but after Terminus and what happened at Grady Memorial, none of them were trusting his word. Rick made this clear when he punched the man in the face. After interrogation and sending out a group to see if what he was saying about the routes and cars were true, Rick decided that they would take a look at the so-called community. Now, at night, they were on the road. Glenn, Rick, Michonne, and Aaron were in one car while the rest of the group were in an RV provided by Aaron, driven by Abraham.

“Shit!” Abraham swears as he slams the breaks on the RV.

The road ahead of them was swarmed with walkers, Glenn’s car was ahead of them and had run into multiple walkers. Daryl was in the seat beside Abraham holding the map and navigating him on where to drive for a detour, hopefully to meet the others.

“Look!” Maggie points at the flare that was shot in the distance, “you think that’s them?”

“Only one way to find out,” Abraham says as he starts to drive in the direction of the flare.

They soon come across a herd surrounding a car and Gloria notices underneath the car is a man struggling to hide from the walkers. As the RV approaches, the walkers are attracted by the headlights and begin to make their way towards the vehicle.

“We gotta help that guy,” Gloria says, putting attention on the man trapped under the car, “he must have been the one who shot the flare.”

Abraham looks at her then nods, without saying another word, he gets up from the driver’s seat and heads out the RV, smashing all and any walkers that come near him. The others follow suit, killing off all the walkers in the area before helping the man under the car.

“It’s okay, they’re all dead, you can come out,” Gloria says, crouching to look at the man.

“I can’t... my foot...” the man whimpers.

She looks at the man’s foot and gasps when she sees that it’s trapped under the back wheel of the car. Daryl and Abraham take action immediately, carefully lifting and pushing the wheel off his foot, they drag him out from under the car. They thought it best that they would get somewhere safe before Gloria took a look at his foot and so they found an empty garage-like building and made their camp there. They had set up a makeshift bed and leg rest for the man to rest on as Gloria examined his foot in the second room.

“Looks like your ankle is broken,” Gloria says, then she looks around finding some wooden sticks and a cloth, “this is gonna hurt, I’m sorry in advance.”

“I don’t think it’ll hurt as much as when it actually happened,” the man chuckles, “I’m Eric by the way.”

“Gloria,” she says, “and I wouldn’t be so sure about it not hurting as much, just brace yourself.”

Eric is about to say something when he cries out in pain when Gloria begins to wrap his foot in the cloth with the sticks to keep his ankle in place. She gives him an ‘I told you so’ look and chuckles when he scoffs playfully at her.

“Thank you, for saving my life and helping me with my ankle,” Eric says with a smile.

“It’s not a problem, treating a broken ankle is a lot better than the other things we’ve seen,” Gloria smiles back at him.

“I’m glad you decided not to leave,” Eric says sincerely.

Gloria frowns at his words in confusion, “what?”

“Alright, I’m gonna be very honest with you right now, Aaron and I were listening to you and your group before we approached you,” Eric says carefully then adds quickly, “but only because we weren’t sure whether you were good people or not! We couldn’t risk coming up to you without knowing.”

“That’s totally an invasion of privacy... this better not be a habit in your camp.” Gloria eyes him warily.

“It isn’t, I promise.” Eric says, “anyway... I just wanted to tell you that I think Glenn’s right, this group needs you. And right now, I may be biased because you helped me with my ankle, but I really do think it’s a good thing you decided to stay and not leave.”

Gloria ponders for a moment before chuckling, “if I left, you would have been fine regardless, Maggie knows how to do this too.”

“I think I would have tried to track you down if you really did leave,” Eric grins at her.

She rolls her eyes at him then pats his knee, “I’ll let you rest.”

Without another word, Gloria gets up and walks out to the other room where the others are. Soon, Rick and the others arrived at the building. Gloria was relieved to see Glenn safe. Aaron had reunited with his boyfriend, Eric, and Rick had finally decided that they were trustworthy enough to take them back to their community in the morning. Gloria decided that she would help take first watch that night as she now sat outside in front of the door. An hour into her shift, the door opens and Daryl walks out.

Gloria looks at him in confusion, “what are you doing?”

He leans on the wall, not responding to her question, “ya were gonna jus’ leave...?”

A pang of guilt hits her as she realizes that Daryl must have overheard her conversation with Eric earlier. She looks away and sighs, silently giving him his answer, but he wanted her to say it. He goes to her and pulls her up by her arm, his grip gentle but firm.

“Ya were gonna jus’ leave without sayin’ anythin’ to me?” Daryl asks again.

“I thought about it...” Gloria says, unable to look at him.

“Why?” he asks, frowning.

Gloria finally looks at him, but she didn’t know what to tell him. She couldn’t say that a large reason was that he pushed her away and ignored her when she kept trying to reach out, she knew exactly what that would do to him. Gloria knew very well that he felt guilty for Beth, just as much as she did, and his way of coping was to push everyone away. She was sure he knew how much it hurt her, but she also understood why he still did it.

“Was it ‘cause o’ me...?” Daryl mutters, looking at her, guilt in his eyes.

“No,” Gloria says almost immediately.

The look on Daryl’s face told her that he didn’t believe her. He knew that when he pushed her away, it hurt her and he hated himself even more for it. Whenever Gloria tried to reach out to him, all he wanted to do was go to her and let her soothe his pained heart. The only place he wanted to be was in her arms as she comforted him and chased all of his guilt away. But he couldn’t allow that, he felt that he didn’t deserve any of that. Her affection, forgiveness, love. He had let them down, he let them all down. If it wasn’t for him, Beth wouldn’t have gotten taken by the people at Grady Memorial, and she would have never met Dawn, and Dawn wouldn’t have ever had the chance to kill her.

That guilt weighed heavily in Daryl’s heart and he felt the need to let it eat away at him, because he felt that he deserved it. He couldn’t let Gloria talk him out of it. He knew that she was the only one who would be able to, so he had to push her away, but when Daryl hit the bottle out of her hands that day, he realized that he had almost hit her. And that terrified him more than anything. Daryl was so afraid that he would some day turn into his dad, which was why he did everything he could to avoid being anywhere near Gloria. If he ever hurt her, he’d never forgive himself.

“I pushed ya away...” Daryl mumbles sadly.

“No matter how many times you push me away, I’ll always come back to you, Daryl,” Gloria reassures him.

“I almost hit ya...” he says, his voice small but thick with emotion as the tears in his eyes threaten to fall.

“But you didn’t,” she says back, taking a step towards him and caressing his face with her hand, “you’d never hurt me.”

That was all it took for Daryl to break down, he lets out a pained whimper as he repeats her words, “I’d never hurt ya...”

He allows himself to lean into her as she wraps her arms around him. He rests his head on her shoulder as he cries, letting out his emotions as he holds onto her for dear life. Gloria holds him close to her, rubbing small soothing circles on his back. She lets him cry in her arms for as long as he needs and soon, his sobs die down to small shaky breaths. Daryl pulls away from her with a small sniffle and Gloria smiles softly at him.

“Feeling better?” she asks, her head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl nods shyly, as if embarrassed that he cried in front of her. Gloria gently puts her hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb lovingly and he can’t help but lean into her touch.

“I love ya.” he says, looking her in the eyes.

“I love you, too.” Gloria says, smiling lovingly at him.

He finally breaks into a small smile at her words then pulls her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her body. She snakes her arms around his waist, her head resting on his chest. They stay like that in a comforting silence for a small moment.

“Daryl...” Gloria calls out softly, but she doesn’t move from her spot, “do you have any more cigarettes?”

Her question causes him to frown in confusion and he looks down at her, “what?”

Gloria pulls away from him to look up at him, “do you have any more cigarettes?”

“I do... why?” he answers, hesitant.

She lifts her hand with her palm up, “give them to me.”

Daryl furrows his brows even more, “but ya don’ smoke.”

“I don’t, but you do,” Gloria says, making him even more confused, she sighs softly, “the burns on your hand... I know where they’re from.”

Daryl purses his lips, unable to say anything as a guilty look falls on his face once more. He hurt himself, he burned himself with a cigarette on purpose and she knew. He didn’t want her to be able to figure it out but he knew that she was smart enough to put the pieces together. Without another word, Daryl reaches into his pocket and puts his remaining cigarettes in her hand.

Gloria looks down at them, “the next time you want a smoke, you ask me, and I’m going to check your hands before and after.”

He nods obediently. Even though he did feel like he was being treated like a child, deep down he felt oddly warm. No one but Gloria has ever shown this much love, care, and respect for him, and it made his heart swell.

“I love ya.” he says again.

“For taking away your cigarettes?” Gloria tilts her head, slightly confused, she thought he would get upset.

“For carin’ so much.” he says with a side smile then he leans in to kiss her lips gently.

Gloria smiles into his lips and kisses him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was aware that she was on watch duty, but her and Daryl needed this time alone together. Somehow, she just knew that their group would be safe that night and she had a good feeling that their journey to this Alexandria place would be a good place for them all to start something new.

---

Next Chapter

And they’re back together!! Yayy!!! Well they never actually split but you know what I mean haha and they met Aaron and Eric! And now they’re off to Alexandria~! See, a lot of good things happened :D Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, all of your comments/likes/reblogs mean so so so much to me and I appreciate every single one of you ^^

I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):

90 notes · View notes

layce2015 · 4 years

Text

The Last of Us Part 2 (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 11: Nora

Chapter 10

Present Day

I walk up the stairs and into the radio room to see Dina and Ellie talking. "Hey, girls." I said and they look up at me. "Everything okay?" I asked. "Yeah, we were just talking...." Ellie said and I nod at her as Dina gives an embarrassed smile. "Okay. So, anything worthwhile to report?" I asked, nodding towards the radio.

"Actually, yeah." Dina said and she stands up and walks to the table and Ellie and I walk up next to her. "Abby?" I asked her and she shakes her head. "No...but...This girl, Nora....her unit was assigned this hospital." Dina said as she points at a picture of an African American woman and I pick it up and look at it, Ellie looking over my shoulder.

"They were collecting supplies or something." She said and I look up at the map and see where it says Medical Center. "This hospital." I said, pointing at it. "Yeah." Dina said and I set the picture down. Then I start to walk out of the room. "You're gonna go now?" Ellie asked me. "Yeah, we have a lead. I'll bet you anything she might know where Abby is. And if we can find Abby, we can find Joel." I said and Ellie nods.

"I'll come with you." Ellie said and I look over at Dina. "I'll be fine, if anything I can always wake Jesse up." Dina said and I nod. "Okay. Well, go get your bag, Ellie, and we'll head out." I said and she nods and the two of us head out of the room. "I'll help with the door." Dina said and we gathered up our stuff and head out.

"Alright, if we follow Route 5, that should take us to the hospital." Ellie said as she looks down at her map. "Okay, follow Route 5, track down Nora and have her tell us where Abby is or maybe where Joel is being held." I said. "Easy." Elli said as she puts away her map and we follow the highway signs and head off.

We make our way through some streets and buildings until we climbed up to a wall and I could see a building with a large red cross on it. "There's the hospital." I pointed out to Ellie as she looks out. "Fuck. I thought we'd be closer." She said. "Yeah, me too. But we'll get there." I said to her and she nods and walk over to this building next to us and make our way down then up towards these apartment buildings.

"Do you really think they kept Joel alive?" Ellie asked me as we walked through the apartments. "If they were wanting me as bad as you said they were, I'm sure of it. Like I said, if they wanted to kill Joel, they would've done it back at that cabin. I'm just glad they didn't kill him at the cabin cause if they did, let's just say they would definitely regret it once I met up with these assholes." I said and Ellie nods and we continue walking onwards.

"(Y/n)..." she said and I look over at her. "Do...do you think.. maybe...this might have something to do with the Fireflies?" She asked me. "It has crossed my mind and, honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it was but...I want to be sure." I said. "What if it has something to do with me? You know, when you and Joel...." Ellie stops and she looks down, guilty, and I placed my hands on her shoulder.

"Ellie, listen to me. This....is NOT your fault, okay? If anything, this is mine and Joel's fault. I don't want you to feel guilty for something Joel and I did. We made that decision, it is our burden not yours." I said and Ellie looks down for a moment then up at me and nods.

I give her a small smile and patted her shoulder. "So, you listen here. If anything were to happen to me, like I get captured by these assholes, I want you to find Tommy and you two, along with Jesse and Dina, get the hell outta Seattle and back to Jackson." I said and Ellie's eyes widen. "What?" She said, shocked. "No! N-No, (y/n)! No! W-What about Aiden and Ethan? H-How would I even tell them?!"

I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears, and open them again to look at her, firmly. "I would love for you guys to watch over them. And just tell them that...their mom and dad went to go see their big sister, Sarah. They'll know." I said and a tear runs down Ellie's face then she sniffled and gives me a determined face.

"Well, I'm not letting that happen." She said, firmly. "I don't plan on it either but...it's nice to have one just in case everything goes to shit." I said and Ellie nods again. "Okay." She said. "Alright, let's keep going." I said and we start to head out.

We head towards a door and I go to it and try to open it but it wouldn't budge. "Ellie, help me." I said and she comes up next to me and we push all of our weight against the door. Suddenly, a loud noise rings out and we hear some infected. "Shit." Ellie said and we slam ourselves against the door and make it through before a Stalker grabbed us.

I shut the door then another Stalker comes up, grabs me and slams me against the window. "Get off of her!" Ellie shouts as she comes at the Stalker and stabs it. The Stalker flails around then the glass of the window breaks and the three of us fall through, slamming into the running river below.

I resurfaced then look over next to me to see Ellie as the fast currents pushes us. I start to go over to her when I felt something grab my foot and pulls me down. "(Y/n)!" I hear Ellie shout and I look down to see the Stalker had grabbed my foot and started to come towards me. I kick it at but it still held onto me until Ellie came up to it and stabs it in the head with her switchblade.

We resurfaced again and the water leads us through a tunnel and into a section of the sewer system. We land near a platform and we climb up on it then catch our breath. "Fuck Seattle." Ellie growls as she and I cough. "Yeah...couldn't have said it better myself." I said as I catch my breath. "Joel is so gonna owe me for this." I said and Ellie laughs as we stand up.

We look around until Ellie speaks up. "(Y/n), over there!" She said and I look to where she's pointing and see a ladder over the other side of the room. I nod and we make our way to it and climb up the ladder.

We get to the top to see a grate cover and I pick it up and push it to the side. Once out of the way, I get up then turn and help Ellie up. "Okay, now where the hell did we end up?" She asked as I place the grate back over. We turned right and saw some stairs and head up then squeezed through a grate and saw a directional map up ahead.

We walked up as I looked it over. "Okay....so we're here." I said as I point towards the middle right of the map then moved my finger over to the far left. "Hospital is over here." I said and Ellie looks up. "Cut through the park..." she said and we go up towards the park.

Suddenly, I heard some whistles off in the distance. "Did you hear that?" I asked Ellie, softly. She nods and we carefully make our way through the park. Ellie gets up on a ledge right when I heard a loud whistle and then Ellie fell backwards.

"Ellie!" I exclaimed as I ducked down and crawled towards her, seeing an arrow in her right shoulder. We crawl over to the ridge and I grab the arrow with my right hand and braced my left hand on her shoulder. "Ready?" I asked her and she nods at me then I pull the arrow out of her shoulder and she grits her teeth, muffling her own screams.

Then I hand her some bandages and she fixes up her shoulder as I look up and see a group of cloaked figures coming towards us. "Who the fuck are these guys?" I asked as two of them had torches and a couple of them had their bow and arrows drawn out. "Maybe they're those Scars the WLF were talking about?" Ellie suggests and I shrug. "Could be." I muttered as these people started to whistle, which made me feel uneasy.

We make our way around to avoid them but I was able to shoot my own bow and arrows at them while Ellie would sneak up behind them and stab them with her blade. We make it through the park and see the hospital sign that showed the way to the hospital. "This way." I said and we follow the sign.

We ran into some Scars here and there, including a part where we saw them string up a WLF soldier, stab him in the stomach and rip his guts out. It was horrifying, and I've seen some shit in my twenty-five years living and surviving in this world.

But Ellie and I were lucky to get pass most of them, although we did take out a few stealthily, then make it to the hospital. But we had to jump in the water and began to swim our way into a building. We make it in and see a person sitting on a box, their back to us. Ellie and I swim over to them, which made me wonder why this person didn't hear us until we got up and I noticed the person, or woman I should say, was wearing headphones and playing a game.

We get up behind her and Ellie places a knife around the woman's neck and pulls her up to sit up. Then she takes off the woman's headphones out of her ears. "Don't make a fucking sound. Hands up." I threatened as I stand next to Ellie.

The woman holds up her hand, her right hand holding the portable video game. "Easy...Easy." She said, fearfully. "You know a girl named Nora?" Ellie asked her. "Sure, yeah." The woman replied.

"Where is she?" I asked her. "In the hospital." She replied and Ellie starts to hold the blade a little closer to her neck. "Where in the hospital?" She asked. "They're c-clearing out the upper floors. She's somewhere in there." The woman replied then she quickly shoved Ellie's arm out of the way, turned around, and tried to attack Ellie.

Ellie, being quick, stabs her in the neck and the woman falls backwards and chokes on her blood. "That was dumb." Ellie mutters and she wipes her blade with her pants leg and I nod before we head upstairs.

We get up into a hallway and see a couple of WLF walking along outside. We make our way around them and get inside of the hospital, trying not to raise too much suspicion. We make it to these large doors and go through them then pushed a large machine up against the door, blocking from anybody following us.

We head upstairs and walked down this hallway when we hear music playing. "Think that could be Nora?" Ellie asked me and I shrugged as we come up to an open vent and I climb up in it first then Ellie follows.

We crawled through the vent as the rap music played louder and we hear people talking amongst each other. "I'm not stupid. You're gonna tell us where she goes during parts of the day." A man's voice said and I could see Nora standing in front of them. "I haven't seen her all day. Look, I'm getting tired of this." Nora said, annoyed, and she walks away.

"Nora. Nora!" The man calls out but Nora walks over to this door and the end of the hallway. The man scoffs and he and his group leave the room and I make it to the end and open the grate. I crawl out and jump down then Ellie jumps down after me.

We walk up to this door and I open it, both of us enter the room and Ellie shuts it just as Nora walks back into the room, carrying a box of stuff. "Don't scream." I ordered as Ellie and I aim our guns at her. She stops and looks over at us, shocked, then I gesture at her with my gun. "Put that shit down." I said, firmly, and she sets the box down then turns to us, her hands raised up.

"You remember me?" Ellie asked her and Nora looks at her and a look of recognition flashes across her face. "Yeah...you remember me." Ellie said, in a soft growl. "What do you want?" Nora asked us. "Your friend, Abby, has stolen someone very important to us. To me." I said and Nora's eyes widen at me.

"Yeah. Abby was wanting me to come out...well, here I am. Be careful what you wish for." I said, in a threatening tone. "All we want to know is where is Abby hiding him?"

"I don't know." Nora replied and Ellie takes a couple steps forward, her gun still trained on Nora. "You two shoot me... the sound will have every solider come running." She said, who flinched back a bit. "You'll still be dead." Ellie growls. "Tell us where she hid my husband and I'll think about letting you go." I said.

Nora looks at me then over at Ellie. "We coulda killed you." She said. "Maybe you should have. Or maybe you should've stayed the fuck out of Jackson." Ellie said, angrily.

"Where is Abby and where is she hiding Joel?" I asked, angrily, as I stepped forward, aiming my gun at her, she flinches back and said something that was too fast for me to understand.

"What?" I asked her and she bites her lips. "S-She was here earlier. And she told me something." Nora said. "Which is?" I asked her. "That if you didn't come out and find her by tomorrow night, she would kill him." She said, in a slightly shaky voice, and it felt like my heart jumped into my throat once she said this.

Then Nora starts to stand up a little bit taller and glares at me. "So I ain't gonna tell you where he is. That bitch deserves to die and so do you." She said, in a firmer voice, and anger flared in my chest. "You fuckin'..." Ellie started to say as we stepped towards her but she throws something at us and runs.

I shake my head then we chase after her. "Help! Trespassers! Somebody please!" Nora shouts as she runs and we follow after her as we go through various rooms and hallways. "Nora! You can't escape this!" I shouted as ed ring through a room then a lobby area.

"Shoot them!" Nora shouts and we hear gunshots above us. Ellie and I dodge them and run down another hallway then through some offices.

We make it through a room when Nora comes out and punches me across the face. I stumble back as she pounces on me and we struggled just as Ellie stabs Nora in the arm. She screams then elbows Ellie across the face and I punch Nora in the face and I shove her off of me. Realizing she's being overpowered, Nora begins to run away from us and I help Ellie back up and we run after her.

We hear some soldiers come up behind us but we make our way to these double doors and see that Nora stopped running. She turns to us, her hands raised, and she looked a bit scared. "No, please!" She said and we hear footsteps behind us. Ellie runs at Nora and grabs her then puts her arm around her neck, holding her in front of her like a shield as both her and I aim our guns at the soldiers.

Three soldiers come in and aim their guns at us. "Back up!" I shout at them and they stop and stand in front of us. "Put your guns down!" One soldier ordered us. "You two can walk away from this, okay, I can--" Nora pleads but Ellie aims her gun at her head while mine was still trained on the soldiers. "Shut the fuck up!" Ellie yells at Nora.

"Guns down. Hands up!" The soldier ordered us. "Get back!" I yelled at them, aiming my gun at them. "You two have nowhere to go." The soldier said then Ellie and I look behind us and see a giant hold that leads to the basement but I could see spores in there.

Ellie and I exchange a look before I throw a smoke bomb at them. It explodes and the soldiers begin to cough at this and I, quickly, grab my gas mask, put it on and we jumped into the hole, Ellie pulling Nora with her as we fall. We fall down and landed on our backs then I hear Nora coughing.

I get up and see that she begins to run away while we heard the soldiers scrambling down to the room. Ellie and I duck down behind some crates and I could hear some infected behind us. The soldiers begin to look around for us until Ellie finds a brick and throws it across the room, which caused the infected and Clickers to come out and attack the soldiers.

"Come on." I whispered to her and we head towards this door I saw Nora go through and we make our way around just as I hear Nora coughing. We go open a door, where a red light was shining in, and enter it to see her curled up against a door.

"Hi, Nora." I said with a growl as Ellie grabs a chair and barricades the door. "Oh God....oh God." Nora pleads, fearfully, as I walk down the hall towards her, Ellie just right behind me.

Nora then tried to swing at me with a pipe but Ellie grabs it and yanks it out of her hand. Then she swings it and it hits Nora's arm, breaking it. Nora cries out in pain and I begin to pace in front of her. "Where's Abby hiding Joel?" Ellie asked her but Nora looks up at Ellie, who wasn't wearing a gas mask.

"You're...you're breathing spores." She said, weakly. "You're her." She said, shocked, and I stopped and stared at her, now I got confirmation. "So, you are a Firefly." I said. "There are no Fireflies anymore. Thanks to you and your bastard of a husband." Nora spat at me in between her wheezing and I clench my fists as I stop pacing and stand in front of her.

"Where is Abby hiding him?" I asked her. "I'm fucking dead anyway. Why would I tell you two anything?" Nora asked and I squat down to her. "Because we can make it quick. Or we can make it so much worse." I said and she sniffles then looks up at Ellie.

"Think about what they did. How many people are dead because of them?" She said to Ellie as she gestures at me. I stand up and look over at Ellie, who looks down at her then at me. She and I exchange a look before Ellie takes a breath then looks at Nora.

"It's your last chance." She said and Nora glares at her, obviously upset she couldn't convince Ellie. "I'm not giving up my friend." She said, firmly. I take a deep breath then slowly let it out before I hold my hand out to Ellie. She looks at me then hands me the pipe, but I can tell she has a nervous look on her face.

I take a couple of steps forward towards Nora and glared down at her before I look over my shoulder at Ellie. "This ain't going to be pretty. If you don't want to look..." I started to warn her, my voice turning cold. She looks at me but nods and I turn back to Nora and I started swinging the pipe at Nora. She cries out in pain with each hit of the pipe but I keep hitting her until she either dies or until she gives me the information I need.

Later, Ellie and I make it back to the theater, now with the information we were looking for. I knock on the door while I noticed Ellie was shaking, slightly. "You okay?" I asked her and she nods, slightly, before Dina opens the door to see us. "Thank God!" She said as she gives Ellie a hug and then me.

"You guys okay?" Dina asked us as we walked in and Jesse looks at me, shocked. "God! Is that your blood?" He asked me, worried. "No..." I muttered as everyone gathers around me and I pull out the map Ellie gave me. "She has him hold up in this aquarium." I explain as I point at the aquarium icon on the map. "The guy, Owen, is acting as a guard. Abby apparently goes there and..." I stopped and bite my lips.

Nora told me that Abby goes there a few time a day and just beats Joel up as he is tied to a chair. Of course she does, fucking coward. I thought and then she told us why Abby is really after me and Joel. The doctor that was gonna operate on Ellie back at that hospital...was her father.

I sigh at this then looked around at everyone. "...if we don't get to him before tomorrow night....she's gonna kill him." I said, saying the last sentence in a whisper. Jesse's eyes widen and Dina gasps as she places a hand over her mouth. "We'll find him, (y/n). I promise." Jesse said and I blink back tears and take a breath. "Yeah...your damn right, we are." I said then I look down at my blood soaked hands.

"I'm, uh...I'm gonna get cleaned up." I muttered and I walk away from them and head back towards the theater and towards the backstage area.

After grabbing a bucket full of water, I began to wash my face and my hands. Each time I'd wash them, I started to get flashes of Nora everytime I hit her with the pipe. The sound of the metal pipe when it hit her flesh and her screams of pain rang in my ears.

I brace my hands on the table and closed my eyes as I lowered my head. I take a deep breath and let it out then I raise my head to look myself in the mirror. Shit. I look terrible. I thought as I see the dark circles around my eyes and my cheeks were sunken in and I looked pale.

I sigh one more time then stand up straighter and finished cleaning myself up.

After while, I walk out of the backstage room and head towards the curtains when I stopped and looked through the gap and see Ellie and Dina talking. Ellie looked a bit shaken up and Dina had placed her hand on her shoulder. "Ellie? What's wrong?" Dina asked her, worried.

Ellie sits there and takes a few breathes then said. "(Y/n) made her talk." Then she places her hands over her mouth and starts to sob, which broke my heart seeing her like this. Dina then hugs her as Ellie closes her eyes and tries her best to not burst out crying.

I look down, guilty, then walk away from the curtains and head back into that backstage room.

@fangirl-inthe-us

@critical-musings

#fandom #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #the last of us #joel miller #reader #joel #the last of us joel #video game imagine #joel x reader #joel imagine #the last of us joel x reader #tlou joel #the last of us pt 2 #the last of us imagine #joel miller x reader #naughty dog #fanfic

97 notes · View notes