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wordywarriorwrites · 2 months

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Feels Like Home

Feels Like Home | AO3 | Rating: M | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x F! Reader

Summary: They say you can't go home again, but maybe for you and Javi, home isn't a place - it's a person.

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language.

Getting Chucho Peña back up on his feet after a bad fall from the hayloft – that was all you’d been tasked to do.

But you hadn’t considered the prodigal son.

You hadn’t thought about all the ways dark, earthen eyes – eyes that had seen too much – could be so compellingly, devastatingly, hauntingly preoccupying. Hadn’t really thought of how the stories of this larger-than-life individual would pale in comparison to the actual person. Hadn’t really believed that this man and this town would get to you, become so much a part of you that you’re thinking about rejecting a career-changing offer that would see you moving on to bigger (though perhaps not exactly better) things.

Four seasons have passed, and yet, you haven’t felt the itch to pack a bag and hit the road. And because you stuck around, Javi, Chucho, and you have become los tres amigos. Reading books and watching Cheers. Exchanging cards and gifts on birthdays and at Christmas. You host dinner at your place once a month. Javi occasionally pops in during your meal break at the hospital to bring you something decent to eat. And sometimes, his dad will call you nenita – a term of endearment that feels far too precious to be directed toward a drifting, wayward soul like you.

It’s hard not to mull over the what-ifs – especially with how Javi looks beneath the sparking lights of the convention center. Exuding confidence, chit-chatting, and mingling with your coworkers like a pro, all understated power and authority. He stays still while everyone else gets pulled into his orbit, revolving slowly around him, like planets circling the sun. He steers you in that way, too, pulling you into his atmosphere, making it painfully impossible to keep your gaze averted from the fine figure he makes in his charcoal gray suit.

This isn’t the first fundraising event he’s escorted you to. In fact, he’s graciously played the role of plus-one several times. Haughty conversations, dry chicken dinners, watered-down drinks, and office politics – he’s been there and done that. And for a man who says he hated it, that he’s left all that bullshit behind, he’s really good at it, reading the room and owning his space within it better than most of your puffed-up peers.

It’s difficult not to admire him. Get attached to him. To feel as if you’ve made a real, true friend. You don’t have many of those and neither does he. It’s as if you’ve somehow been chosen. That out of all the people in the world, he’s picked you.

Bowling on Thursdays. The little snort that sometimes escapes when he laughs. His gentle manner with horses. The scent of his cologne; a blend of leather, wood, and oakmoss. The way he always refuses dessert, but somehow, ends up finding room for two servings, especially if it’s your homemade peach cobbler. His shoulder – the one you lean on when you nod off during a football game. His arm – the one you grip during scary movies. His ear – the one he lets you talk off when the day has been too hard and too bloody, and you can’t fall asleep.

If you leave, you lose it all. You lose him.

“Is it just me,” Javi prompts with a slight nudge, turning away from the inner circle and leaning in close to speak directly into your ear. “Or are all the doctor jokes really fucking terrible this year?”

His voice – low and amused – cuts through the chatter and clinking cutlery, guiding you out of the spiral of dark thoughts and back into the present. You glance up at him and wonder if that inquisitive, clever mind of his has worked out how you really feel and uncovered what you really think. And if he knows, has he just been too polite to say anything? Even if it’s only to let you down gently?

“Maybe you should teach them a thing or two,” you manage to quip, burying your emotions by taking a rather undignified gulp of merlot.

Javi snorts and shakes his head, “With their egos? Not likely. Look, can we get outta here? Go get some real food?”

You nod, placing your now empty wine glass on the tray of a passing waiter, and snagging your purse up from the table. Javi is quick to take your arm and the lead, guiding you both through the throng and a seemingly endless stream of polite farewells. The elevator, the parking garage, the drive-thru – none of it really registers. It’s not until you’ve fallen into the cushions of your couch, a heavy bag of tacos in hand, and two beers on the coffee table in front of you, that your brain gradually starts to come back online.

“M'starving,” Javi announces, snatching up the takeout bag and plopping down next to you. “Remind me next time to eat before I pick you up.”

He peels off his jacket. Kicks off his shoes. Wriggles his sock-covered toes into the plush carpet and sits forward on the cushion just far enough to reach the table. Large, deft hands drop napkins – one onto your knee and one onto his own – and then, he’s unfurling paper and distributing a half dozen oversized carne asada taquerias onto two paper plates. A brief pause. A rather ferocious bite. A long, low groan.

“Fuck me, that’s good,” he mumbles, cheeks puffed out and comically overfilled.

“Emily Post would not be impressed,” you teasingly chide.

Javi grins and juts his chin, “Hey, get my tie? It’s the one you got me for my birthday, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

Once his messy hands are out of the way, you do as he asks, working the knot free and slipping the silk off with a careful tug. You pop a few buttons for him, too, and he gives you a nod of thanks before digging back in with renewed gusto, washing it all down with long pulls on his beer.

You don’t know how he does it, but his steady, calm demeanor always manages to soothe you. You unclench your jaw. Relax your shoulders. Even eat with him. Once the food’s devoured and the mess is cleaned up, you offer him a nightcap that promises to be better than what he’d been served at the fundraiser, and he happily accepts.

With tumblers in hand, the two of you migrate out to the patio. Javi is quick to indulge in his after-dinner smoke, bringing flame to paper-wrapped tobacco with a practiced flick and inhaling deeply. He fills his lungs with nicotine a few more times before turning his attention to his glass, bringing it to his nose before taking a slow sip.

“Dios mio,” he appreciates aloud. “What is this?”

“Macallan,” you tell him.

“That’s damn good whiskey.”

“It ought to be for five grand a bottle.”

Javi chuckles and lets out a low whistle, “You lift it off a truck or something?”

“It was a gift,” you admit, taking a seat on the outdoor bench. “From Brad.”

He blinks slowly, “Your ex?”

You nod and shrug slightly, “Bastard always did have good taste.”

Javi doesn’t pry – he just smokes and paces, seemingly content for you to either share or plead the fifth. You take a sizable gulp for courage and finally tell him about Alaska, about the brand new, state-of-the-art facility, and what an opportunity it is. You explain the position. Tell him it offers better pay and an extremely generous housing stipend. A year there, maybe two, and you’ll have your pick of any hospital you want to work at going forward.

Brad’s presence, his role as department head, his status as your ex-fiancé, the wholly inappropriate “welcome gift” he supposedly sent on behalf of the entire staff – a gift you’re certain was pilfered from his dad’s private collection – none of it matters. You’re going there for work because you go where you’re needed, nothing more.

“Got the papers inside,” you say quietly. “Just gotta sign ‘em.”

Javi curses. Drops the butt of his cigarette into the remaining inch of whiskey. Sets the glass down a little too hard on the window ledge. It’s tense now, the air between you, the atmosphere filling with acridness neither one of you is accustomed to. He rolls his jaw. You tap your nail against the tumbler. Javier runs a hasty palm over his mustache and then, much to your surprise, he sits down next to you.

Your glass is taken and hastily put aside. Slowly, carefully, as if giving you the chance to pull away, Javi slots his fingers between yours. When you don’t protest, he holds on tight and brings your knuckles to his lips. His palm pressed to your palm; he lowers his head until his furrowed brow meets the back of your hand. It’s so achingly, intimately tender, so unexpected and jarring, that makes your eyes well.

You swallow hard and clear your throat, “Look, Javi, I’m –”

“Don’t,” he interjects with a slow, purposeful shake of his head. “Just… Don’t.”

The moment stretches, unbearable with the weight of the unknown, all nerve-wracking and heady at the same time. Javi eventually looks at you – eyes searching and examining and questioning. Head slightly tilted, a wayward chunk of his hair tumbles out of its’ carefully coiffed place, and you don’t consider your actions when you take back your hand to carefully brush it off his forehead.

“I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs.

You frown and stroke his cheek with your thumb, “I don’t want to, either.”

Javi’s fingertips brush your forearm, and when he leans forward, you meet him in the middle. Your mouths join. Lips brushing, breath stolen and returned. The two of you are traversing unmapped and uncharted territory, but it’s so easy. It's as if you’ve been touching like this, kissing like this, for such a long time.

All languid and unhurried until he licks into your mouth, coating your tongue in hints of vanilla, nutmeg, and smoke, and then, you’re both in pursuit of more. Tripping over each other to get back inside. Both of you going for his belt, and then, your underwear – no finesse or thought of the bedroom just steps away because the couch will work just fine.

Knees sunk into the cushions and cheek mashed into an armrest. Heels kicked off and the skirt of your ankle-length dress tugged up over your hips. Javi explores and discovers you from behind, tongue tasting the unmistakable evidence of your desire, and fingers stoking the flame until you’re begging him to put you out of your misery.

“Condoms,” you croak, gesturing blindly. “In my work bag.”

A low growl. Nips and licks and sucks to the back of your thighs, the curve of your hip, the rounds of your shoulders. You’re melting to the floor, rolling into your back, eyes barely able to focus as he snatches up your battered canvas tote and upends it, the contents spilling out messily and noisily across the carpet.

“Preparing for an orgy?” he teases, letting the line of rubbers unfurl above your head.

“Shut up,” you sass, nudging his thigh with your foot. “You know I had to teach that sex ed class today.”

“Did the hospital supply bananas?”

“Actually, it was cucumbers.”

Javi laughs. Tears open the package. Rucks up his shirt. You watch, gaze hooded as he slides the rubber on. You toss out a compliment to his technique, and he flushes, all hasty to push your legs apart and make room for himself between your splayed thighs.

“It’s been – I haven’t done this in a while,” you admit, bravado lessening slightly.

Javi clicks his tongue, thumbs making small circles on your kneecaps, “Me, neither, cariño. Been saving myself for you.”

Your spluttered laugh brings out his hidden dimples, and then, he kisses you. Smiles gradually fade, amusement giving way to urgency, prompting you to reach for him, guiding him until he’s slowly sinking into you, filling you. And it’s a snug fit, but it’s just right, and when Javi rocks his pelvis, you’re remade. Suddenly cast adrift, in search of an anchor, you dig your fingers into his hair. Seek out his shoulders with your hands. Follow the curve of his spine and twine your legs around him just so you can feel the way flexes and stretches into your touch.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper against the shell of his ear. “Javi, please… Please, don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promises against your throat. “You feel so good, mi corazón. Feels like you’re mine. Like you’ve always been mine. Fuck.”

His words thrum through you, wreaking havoc, curling your spine, bringing even more heat to your cheeks. There’s no hiding the way your legs are trembling, no stopping your body from bearing down, from clenching hard, from trying to keep him deep inside for as long as possible. His name spills out from your lips like marbles on a wooden floor, the reverent mantra smothered only by his mouth seeking yours.

“Say you’ll stay with me,” Javi demands, teeth nipping your chin.

You nod frantically, “Yes. Yes, I’ll stay with you.”

In possession of you, of your agreement, Javi’s hold becomes unforgiving – fingertips digging into the meat of your hip and the nape of your neck. His thrusts turn pointedly devastating – retreating and surging forward, all precise and measured, purposeful in the way he seems to take control, bringing you to orgasm for the third time with a broad, self-satisfied smile that isn’t as humble as he probably thinks it is.

When he finally comes, he buries himself to the hilt, hips stuttering, stubble rubbing against your cheek as he muffles his groans of pleasure into the crook of your neck. As the two of you lie together in the afterglow, his head pillowed by your breasts, your arms and legs wrapped around him, breaths slowing until they match, the truth of you, of him, becomes undeniably clear.

Home isn’t a place. It’s a person.

And you’ve finally found each other.

#javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic #javier peña narcos #javi pena x reader #javi pena x you #narcos fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #javier pena narcos

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skirter01 · 1 year

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DP x DC Pilot/Engineer Danny AU PT. 2

Link to Pt. 1 Here

Here *aggressively punts this into the phandom* just take it, just friggin take it.

“Bruce just walked into the foyer.”

“I know.”

“He’s getting into the elevator.”

“Cool.”

“Is there a reason you’re ignoring me?”

For the first time in at least three hours, Tim looked up from his laptop. It may have only been to send a rightfully deserved glare at the hovering Lucius Fox who had, for part of the last hour, been obsessively stalking the security cameras, but, it was enough to curb his train of thought entirely from the balance sheet he was trying to make sense of.

“Is there a reason you’re distracting me?” He snarked, shutting the laptop with a little more force than necessary and swivelling around to face the offender.

Lucius smirked playfully, and gestured to Tim’s now shut screen. “I was worried you were going to get square eyes. God help us you accidentally prove childhood scare tactics right.”

“Very funny. Maybe you should consider a career change.” Tim glowered at his fellow CEO, and jerked his head at the camera footage displayed behind the man. “He’s coming in for an impromptu inspection of the aerospace division, if you must know.”

True to his word after their discussion yesterday, Bruce had in fact turned up at Wayne Enterprises to conduct the invasive inspection. Honestly? Tim had been dreading it all morning.

The man’s brows furrowed. “Didn’t I just inspect–"

“You did.” Tim finished for him, spinning slightly in his revolving chair.

Lucius buffered. “At 9:30?”

Tim rolled his eyes and stood from his desk. “He originally said 10.”

Lucius frowned as he watched Bruce’s intimidating figure pop out of the elevator on their floor. “I do hope you’ve forewarned Mr Fenton.”

Tim shrugged (albeit a little guilty), because how was he supposed to explain that that was the opposite of what Bruce intended? This was a passive aggressive interrogation disguised as a business venture. Lucius wouldn’t approve, especially if he knew it was for personal interests.

His fellow CEO squinted with distrust, but didn’t follow up. So, he either knew that something fishy was going on and didn’t care to find out what for his own wellbeing, or, Tim was way more convincing than he thought. He was more inclined to believe the former. “Please don’t scare off the only nice aerospace employee we have. I happen to quite like Mr Fenton.”

Of course, he liked Mr Fenton. Who didn’t honestly? “No promises.” Tim chuckled darkly as he made his way to the door. He had barely reached for the handle when it was swung open by a force other than his own.

“Morning–" Bruce stopped his tracks, obviously not prepared for Tim being right in front of him, but he recovered quickly. Tim delighted in being able to catch The Batman off guard for once. “Oh. Tim. Well, I suppose we’ll be off then.”

“Morning to you too.” He grumbled sarcastically, stepping around his adopted father and into the hallway. “C’mon – work to do.”

---

The moment Bruce stepped out of the elevator and onto the aerospace floor, chaos erupted.

Engineers who were originally sipping on warm coffee and chatting calmly with their co-workers erupted into a flustered mess of ‘Mr Wayne!’ ‘Good morning Sir!’ ‘Sorry about the mess’ ‘We weren’t expecting you today’ as they scuttled around cleaning up wayward blue prints and feigning productive work habits.

Bruce glanced at the young CEO at his side, taking note of the sour expression starting to slowly creep over his son's face. Tim had always carried a special type of hatred for the aerospace division. A hatred unlike that for the driver that splashes you on the sidewalk, but more akin to that for the barista who forgets to add sugar to your coffee, it was a peculiar grudge that was formed long before Daniel Fenton stepped in the limelight. Bruce had his theories, but he was inclined to believe it was mostly due to the employee’s - engineers were notoriously difficult to deal with, let alone manage. Respect was earned, not given.

“Mr Wayne, Sir?” He was drawn from his thoughts by a young intern, clipboard in hand, standing before him, (although clearly reluctantly if his quivering hands were any indication, could he hold the clipboard any tighter?). “M-my name is Ivan, is there anything I can do for you today?”

Bruce softened at the intern's nervous stutter, and pulled on a gentle smile. Clearly someone had put him up to this. “Hello Ivan. Thank you for greeting us. There is indeed something you can do for me.” He extended a hand, fighting not to cringe at the sweaty one that shook it.

Even so, he watched as Ivan visibly relaxed at the calm greeting, tension loosening slightly from his shoulders, and his hands easing from the clipboard. “You name it, I’ll have it done.” The boy said somewhat breathily, relief oozing from his words, although there was still apprehension in his eyes.

“Excellent. I’m actually looking for your new manager, Mr Fenton? Is he around?”

“Oh! You mean Danny?” And just like that, Ivan warped into an almost different person. He visibly brightened at the mention of his supervisor, and a newfound swagger seeped through his professional façade, almost like he’d finally been able to grasp some confidence. Bruce pursed his lips, wondering at the casual use of Mr Fenton's first name, how long had he been employed now? “He’s not in right now - normally doesn’t start till 10am on Wednesday’s. But he won’t be long.” Ivan stated, an easy smile overtaking his face.

Bruce caught Tim’s knowing smirk at the mention of Mr Fenton’s start time, and he landed a heavy-handed pat to his son's back, ever the impression of fatherly praise. “Oh, I see. Tim and myself were just looking to have a chat. Would you perhaps be able to show us to his office?” Tim jolted forward at the force of the disguised blow, his winded cough covered by a clever throat clear

“Yes.” Tim tried to muffle his wheeze, straightening his tie distractedly. “We’ll be happy to wait for him to arrive.” Bruce pretended to ignore the glare he caught in his peripheral.

Ivan grinned, motioning outwards with the clipboard to the narrow walkway between desks and gigantic computer systems. “Of course, please follow me.”

Bruce exchanged a brief glance with Tim, watching his son roll his eyes slyly, before waving his hand dramatically, in an ‘after you’ motion. Not feeling the need to lean into the teasing from his second youngest, Bruce took a long, meaningful stride past his son, offering a mocking wink as he did and following Ivan’s brisk pace.

They walked through the majority of the first sector, to where Bruce assumed the higher ranked engineer’s typically made their sanctuary (sound proofed and private offices galore), only they stopped just before that. He was surprised to find their brief tour halting at a small unassuming desk, directly in the central hustle of the aerospace sector. It was a semicircle, standing workspace that was without a doubt the furthest thing from tidy. Its surface was littered with blueprints, loose paper and an array of colourful markers (most in shades of green), to the point where things were actually scattered on the floor, and the computer of its far side was unlocked to a cluttered, neon green desktop.

Bruce watched as Tim’s entire face scrunched in obvious disgust, and couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. (Although his son’s workspace and documents were typically organised, the boy's bedroom left something to be desired.) “See what I mean?” Tim grumbled under his breath.

Bruce hummed. “I’ll make my judgments face to face.” It was the truth, after all, he was well aware of the mistakes that came from judging a book only from its cover. He turned to Ivan, ignoring Tim’s disapproving grunt, “This is Mr Fenton's…Office?” He questioned wryly, trying to pry information from the young intern before he was to meet the man himself.

Ivan blushed slightly, and a hand went to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah…He calls it an office, but I suppose it’s more of a workspace, I guess. He means well.” He assured, before checking his watch. “Mr Fenton should be here any moment, sorry about the wait, he’s normally not this…” Ivan trailed off, distracted by a slight commotion at the entryway and a grin spread over the intern's pale lips. “Ah, right on time.”

Through the commotion Bruce caught a tall, lanky figure weaving through a crowd of energised engineers.

“Morning D!

“Fenton, where've you been?”

“D-dog, fancy seeing you here!”

A chorus of fond greetings filled the room, and Bruce was actually unsettled by the amount of excitement the arrival of one Mr Fenton could cause. (It was starkly different from his own.) He could actually tangibly feel the shift in atmosphere from the morning blues to energised productivity.

Bruce’s first deduction when Daniel Fenton split from the crowd was that he was a lot taller in person. Bruce had never been self-conscious about his height, in fact, he was proud to be comfortably on the taller side at roughly 6’2, but as Daniel made his way over, he was disturbed to find the young man easily had a few inches on him.

However, despite that, he didn't appear the threatening corporate type (not that Bruce had expected him too). His dark button up and black dress pants were too casual to be intimidating, and although his height certainly gave him presence, his lankier stature took away from any authority it would have garnered - the kid (because he was young enough to be one) was practically just long bones, sharp edges and lean muscle (if any).

It was a wonder how he managed to get anyone to listen to him. Let alone the aerospace engineers.

“Heya Danny.” Ivan shuffled forwards to greet the young supervisor as he made his way over to them.

Fenton didn't miss a beat, and turned all his attention to the intern. “Sup Iv’e. Good to see you buddy.” He stuck out a hand for a fist bump, which the intern eagerly returned. “How’d that Uni test go yesterday?”

Ivan shrugged as Daniel threw his satchel onto the cluttered desk, squishing paper as he did. “Good actually, thanks for helping me out with the practice questions.”

And in just those few sentences, Bruce could tell exactly why Daniel Fenton had the utmost respect of the aerospace division. No wonder they all spoke so highly of him, his interpersonal skills were brilliant.

“That’s awesome!” Mr Fenton praised, and patted him on the shoulder fondly, before turning to his desk and shuffling his documents. “And who are our guests?”

“Thanks” Ivan said sheepishly, before his eyes darted back to meet Bruces, and he seemed to remember the reason why he was standing by his supervisor's desk. “Oh! Right. Danny, this is Mr. Bruce Wayne, and you’ve already met Mr. Timothy Drake, they’ve been waiting to have a chat with you.”

Daniel turned then, and Bruce was surprised to find a pair of dark aviators peering over at them, completely obscuring the bright blue eyes he was expecting to see. “Ah, Mr Wayne, it's a pleasure, I was wondering when I’d be seeing you.”

Bruce cleared his throat, and stuck out a hand to shake. “Please, call me Bruce, and the pleasure is all mine, Mr Fenton. Introductions were long overdue.”

“Well in that case, call me Danny. Mr Fenton makes me sound old as hell.” Daniel-Danny said, that iconic impish troublemaker smile he’d witnessed in his photo making its way onto his face, revealing two rows of strangely sharp, white teeth. Maybe too sharp, surely that wasn’t normal? “So, what can I do you two gentlemen for? Nice to see you by the way Tim.”

A forced smile scraped across Tim’s face, and Bruce fought the urge to laugh as Danny moved to shake his son’s hand next. Tim looked like he’d sucked on a lemon. “Nice to see you as well. Bruce was looking to do an inspection on the aerospace division, would you mind showing him around?”

Danny’s grin didn't waver. “An inspection. Well let’s hope we’re up to scratch.”

Bruce chuckled at the manager's sly humour. “Let’s hope so. Although…” He pointed a finger towards Danny’s aviators. “I do have to question if sunglasses inside are appropriate for the workplace, Mr Fenton.”

“Oh these?” Danny’s grin widened, but he made no move to remove the shades, clearly unperturbed by Bruce’s warning tone. “I’ve got an eye thing.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm. Apparently some people find them unsettling. I’ll be happy to forward you a doctor's note.” He stated, flicking the frames fondly.

Bruce narrowed his eyes, but did not pry. He supposed Daniel was a pilot, and he could admit, the aviators did suit him. “No, that won’t be necessary.” He planted a friendly smile back on his face. “So, that tour?”

“Of course!” Danny said happily, and Bruce could have sworn he saw something flash behind those shades. “Let’s go!”

Bruce turned to find Tim already looking at him, a sleek brow raised in question. “Believe me now?”

Bruce didn't respond. He didn't need to. Because yes, there was something very strange about Daniel Fenton and it wasn’t just his good looks.

Wow, you made it down here, bonkers. In other words, this seemed to be a hit, so we’ll continue. Might turn it into a fic, we’ll see, I’ve got some other shenanigans up my sleeve.

Also I got no clue if those mentions worked or not, tags and I have a love hate relationship. So if you can see someone that ain’t tagged properly. Tag em. Thanks!

@starkcravingmad @always-be-a-stranger @kiwwles @terrasolstice @angelheartgamer @potatoeofwisdom @ectoplasm024 @that-dumbass-on-a-horse @obsessedwithstarwars @nervousperfectionandroid @mimilikey @the-archer-goddess @terzatheunderscorerima @neutralghostchild @ae-vixrose @markus209 @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @mayoota-blog1 @cottonscrambles @bumblebeug @kyrianclawraith @that-blue-thing-in-the-bathroom @mysticalcomputerdetective

#dc x dp crossover #dc x dp fanfic #Tim Drake #bruce wayne #danny fenton is a little shit #nasa danny #danny is the moment #danny got the freaky eyes #danny got jacks height i know just take it #my tags don't work help

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mybrainproblems · 5 months

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hello, i'm finales georg...

i don't want to further clutter up the notes on this post while responding to the tags below but the persistence of the "finale is short/scenes are missing/extra ad break” conspiracies drives me absolutely bananas when i've watched the finale ten times and have posted about this A LOT trying to clear things up. (disclaimer that yes, i'm a goddamn destiel shipper but i care about Facts above all.)

ok but this is weird because i'd swear the episode was shorter (11 missing scenes!) but okay. maybe we all mandela effected ourselves into #beleving that. because it felt shorter. but i will die on the hill that it had another ad break. i understand this person has the thing #recorded with ads so i am thinking maybe different ad breaks in different idk time zones??? #because the finale did air an hour earlier in canada so maybe idk i am reaching here but maybe different states or whatever had different #ad breaks??? as for the last minute changes - wasn't the cover band asked for permission to use their version of carry on like a week before #the thing aired??? so even if the episode was 42 minutes and had no additional ad break - which i am side eying but lets say all was normal #i will always say they were changing thing until the absolute last minute (carry on my wayward son X 2 #the crew on the bridge which is not only giant 4th wall breaking but also wow they really got all those people in one place in times of #covid???) #anyway. tinfoil hat stays on sorry guys :/ (via @officialmisha)

short and snarky: there are plenty of real and sourced examples of network homophobia and scripted/directed destiel scenes being cut to point to. we don’t need to make this stuff up just bc the finale wasn’t what we wanted. so it’s not the mandela effect — it’s ppl repeating a conspiracy/rumor bc it supports their narrative and it’s easier and more fun to repeat something that supports a narrative they already believe (misha or something destiel was cut) vs the boring act of fact checking.

longer circumspect answer with links bc like many ppl i am in my debunking era and i rewatched "roblox_oof" last night.

like i said. i've watched the finale ten times. i’ve gone over the episode with a fine toothed comb and posted a detailed breakdown of timing marks on my blog. it’s actually extremely obvious where the ad breaks are once you know roughly where to look for them (they have a longer fade to black instead of a quick cut scene change). there’s no room for extra ad breaks and i think this conspiracy/rumor persists in part bc the episode feels so sparse in terms of cast and the fact that the episode’s momentum hits a barn post (and rebar) less than 20min into an hour-long programming block.

also i’m begging ppl to actually look at that timing mark post. it’s very straightforward and i spent a lot of time on it. i don’t care if ppl plagiarize it at this point if it means this conspiracy stops. i've got almost every second accounted for.

the "eleven missing scenes" that you're thinking of are probably from the finale script of questionable authenticity that @spnscripthunt acquired back in 2021 which can be found here. it's dated as the “final draft” from 11 sep 2020 and filming on 15x20 wrapped on 10 sep 2020. as noted at the bottom of this superwiki page "[the] script came from someone claiming to have been the person who did the closed captions for the show in Russia. There are some indications that it possibly may not be authentic, but this has not been confirmed."

if we go with the possibility that this was a transcript meant for subtitles, the "omitted" scenes were probably written but never filmed since it's the "final draft" and not a color revision (blue, green, yellow, etc). unfortunately, i’ve lost track of where i read it and a preliminary duckduckgo search isn’t bringing it up bc there's a program for script writing called final draft, but iirc the “final draft” version of a script is a transcript of what was filmed (e.g. there are parts of that 15x20 script that ended up being deleted scenes on the DVD). spnscripthunt also has an example of a confirmed final draft for 09x02 (funnily enough, also a dabb-penned ep). if anyone can confirm with a source that i have the purpose of the “final draft” version designation wrong, please let me know! i love being proven wrong with Facts.

i do want to acknowledge that the two “final drafts” do look different from each other and the 15x20 one doesn't look like a “real” final draft script since it lacks the revision/versioning dates that a script would normally have on the cover page. it could be that it was intended for subtitles; there's the chance it's been re-typed to anonymize it if there was anything indicating who the "owner" was, tho that seems a wee bit cloak and dagger to me. and again: it's considered of questionable authenticity. there are some things that don't quite line up but oh dear god i don't want to get even further out into the weeds than i already am.

i won't disagree that it's weird as hell that neoni only got asked about using their cover seven days prior to the episode airing (tiktok here). my personal theory is that they were hoping to get a more expensive song (maybe a zepp song, idk) and didn't manage to secure the rights in the end. again: this is pure conjecture on my part! but i could absolutely see someone working on the show hearing neoni’s cover and liking it and then maybe they were using it as a placeholder until it got down to the wire and they had to make a call/send the ep to networks. because yes, it is baffling they played a song and then a cover of it with only a 40 second break between. (i do actually really like the neoni cover! the placement is just weird and i think it could have worked if they had the kansas version at the beginning and closed with neoni's full cover.)

as to the 4th wall break COVID stuff: robert singer talked with variety magazine about filming the last two episodes and the logistics of filming during a pandemic. whether they should have been filming during a pandemic is a separate discussion but their use of office vs set pods, strict quarantining and daily testing meant that they had zero positive tests in the month they were filming (18 aug to 10 sep). so given all that, i personally don’t think it’s totally out of pocket to have everyone standing outdoors on a bridge for maybe an hour to get a drone shot of them together. (i won’t get into incubation periods and viral load, but if everyone tested negative that day and every day for a month prior, it was a fairly low risk scene to film outdoors and for all we know everyone was masked until the last possible second. there were plenty of outdoor masked protests in 2020 that weren't superspreader events.)

and before anyone brings up “but misha was in vancouver!” i know someone who looked into it and they said no dice, nothing matched up between the backgrounds in those pics and places in vancouver. his statements about “us” going back to set over the summer were pretty generic in hindsight and “we”/"us" could be him or the spn crew generally. unfortunately i’m not able to find those tweets but the use of “we” was likely so as not to give away he wouldn’t be returning to set. (bc we were absolutely casbaited!) and bc it comes up a lot: the "onion field pic" was from when they were filming 15x17 and was not taken while filming 15x19 and 15x20.

besides, it would be ridiculous to go through the financial and logistical headaches of bringing someone into the country to film during a pandemic, only to cut their scenes in the end! honestly, the script is pretty tight when the scenes are given so much breathing room! the only thing i could see being further cut down is The Monologue and even then, i don’t think there was any intent to cut it down given it was filmed in fairly long takes.

i’ve said it many times before, but i believe the finale was fucked long before they returned to set. walker got the green light in sep 2019 and it was being marketed heavily as a “follow on” show to spn given jared’s involvement. the demo they were courting for walker has little to no overlap with the demo for destiel fans — why would they want a finale that catered to a demo they weren't interested in courting? we just went through a historic double strike that exposed so much of the rot of business interests overriding creative vision. this isn't completely unfounded conjecture.

i will not apologize for the length of this bc i wanted to be thorough, but i do want to give context that i think the reason these conspiracies and rumors grind my gears so much is because anyone can fact check all of this. the truth is out there and absolutely none of it is that hard to find. the most time consuming/difficult part of this was finding someone who had a DVR’d copy of the finale from when it aired live and they actually found me themselves after i’d been low key asking around for a year!

and like. i get it. conspiracies are fun. but there are so many sourced instances of network homophobia and destiel being cut that it's like. why is this something folks are hanging onto? the cw is notorious for having upper level meddling with finales bc there's a follow-on show they want to shuffle fans along to and spn is no exception.

#this is my personal bugbear / debunking hill to die on #it's so easy to disprove and has been disproved for so long at this point and it just keeps. on. getting. repeated.#finales georg #destiel #spn #unfortch most destiel folks don't venture outside the ship harbor and this has been LONG debunked by w/incest blogs #as in like. days after the rumor first started circulating in nov/dec 2020. (and it takes next to nothing!)#i'm a more recent arrival to the fandom (feb 2021) which i think gives me a bit more distance being able to watch the finale 10 times lol #but like. it is RIGHT THERE. folks don't even have to watch the ep. just pull it up on netflix/DVD/whatever to see the runtime.#the 'new post' button is right there. screencap my post and dismiss the effort i've put in somewhere i don't have to see it.#fandom debunking #i heard tommy tallarico was the first american hired to work on supernatural (his mother is very proud)

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bazzybelle · 7 months

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Good Omens 2 and Wayward Son - A Fan's Commentary on Fandom Reactions

I’m going to start off by saying apologies for any obvious grammatical errors. I am writing purely from the heart here.

Also, apologies to my Sandman friends. If you haven’t read The Simon Snow Trilogy, this will go over your heads. However, I have been going back and forth on writing this meta since the release of Good Omens 2, and I just finished reading a spectacular meta on queer ships becoming canon by @avelera, which you can find here (read it, it’s brilliant). Anyway, I feel now’s a good time to let out all of my feelings when it comes to Good Omens 2 and how similar it was to reading Wayward Son.

Simon Snow friends, you all know that Wayward Son is my favourite book out of the trilogy. You also know that this can be considered a controversial take within the fandom. And I don’t mean that in a toxic way, this fandom is one of the more wholesome fandoms I’ve seen; But in the way of like… Wayward Son is itself a polarizing book.

I say this, knowing full well what went down when Wayward Son was released. Perhaps I had the advantage of not being completely embroiled within the Simon Snow fandom until after I’d finished reading the book, but I lived on the periphery. I followed Rainbow on Twitter (fuck you, I am not calling it X), I had saved some artwork on Pinterest (before I found out those were stolen, wherein I immediately unpinned them and deleted my fandom folders), and I was excited to get Wayward Son as soon as it came out. So much so that I asked my husband to go to the Indigo near his office and buy it because I wanted to read it right away.

Friends, I demolished that book within a DAY.

Then I read it again. And again. And again.

Then I wrote my first fanfiction in eight years.

This book changed me. But you all know that. I’ve talked about it often, and that’s not what this meta (Editorial? Opinion piece? Shouting into the void?) is about.

What I am going to talk about is the amount of pure vitriol this book got once it was released. There was SO MUCH complaining about the book. It was too short! There was no point to it! Why aren’t Simon and Baz having sexy vampire sex? Why aren’t they living together (never mind that this was briefly discussed at the end of Carry On, but go off I guess)?

And you know what’s even funnier? Within a couple of weeks (it might have even been days, I’m a little fuzzy on timelines) Rainbow announced the third book. We knew, right away, that Wayward Son was meant to be an in-between book! Rainbow, being a fandom person herself, has said time and time again that she had always considered Wayward Son as an in-between book, structured like The Empire Strikes Back within the Star Wars original trilogy. Like think of the in-between books of any series, they are ALWAYS the darkest ones. In order to fully appreciate the win in the end, you need to go through the tough shit.

What I loved about Wayward Son was it took that idea and spun it. It went all “ok, yeah we dealt with the win, now let’s deal with the aftermath. Only then can we have the makeouts and sexy times these guys deserved.” (and damn, did Any Way The Wind Blows deliver on that promise).

But I am getting away from myself again. Point is, it was always meant to be an in-between book. There was always meant to be a resolution at the end of the trilogy. But that sure as hell didn’t stop people from outright demanding Rainbow give them the happy ending NOW. Pestering her on Twitter, (not so much on Tumblr) demanding she do this, or do that, or “you better not kill Baz” (even though she has ALWAYS SAID SHE NEVER WOULD) or “they better not break up” (even though, narratively, it was heading in that direction). The closer the book got to release date, the more people complained about how awful Wayward Son was.

It was really disheartening to see.

Which is why I got really upset when the SAME THING happened after the release of Good Omens 2.

(For clarification purposes, because several of my friends have spoken to me about their own personal issues with Good Omens 2. And you are all super fucking valid. I am strictly referring to the amount of anger I saw online because although Aziraphale and Crowley kissed, they didn’t have an immediate happily ever after. I am also speaking of the anger expressed because the season wasn’t wrapped up in a neat little bow.)

Like with the release of Wayward Son, people seemed to have forgotten that season 2 of Good Omens was meant to be an inbetween season. Neil Gaiman has not been shy to talk about that. He has said over and over again that Season 2 was always meant to be a bridge between the Good Omens he and Terry Pratchett wrote together, and the sequel they had been planning.

What… did you all just forget about that? Do you not know how narrative writing works?

It’s like people refused to take a step back and breathe for a second and appreciate the season for what it was. A beautiful romantic story (because, IT WAS! Just like Neil said it would be), as well as a lead up into what will be the epic, dramatic conclusion. No, instead people started demanding the happy ending NOW, and getting angry when Neil wouldn’t budge and offer more information (even though he never has before) (funny how people just… forgot that).

It was Wayward Son all over again.

Yeah, I’m not going to lie, I was crushed with the way Good Omens 2 left off. Just like I was so confused when Wayward Son ended out of the blue. You know what I did about that? I wrote fic, I read the book again, and I happily anticipated the upcoming final part that would tie up all the loose ends.

Know what I’m doing to heal after Good Omens 2? I’m looking at gifs, rewatching episodes, laughing at memes and crack, and hoping to all the gods of story writing that Amazon approves of a third season, so that Neil Gaiman can be allowed to finish the story he and Terry Pratchett built together.

It’s become sad to watch this feral hunger from fans demanding immediate gratification, and getting upset when it isn’t the ending or gratification they were expecting. Wayward Son came out after years of Carry On fans having nothing else but the one book. Like I said, I wasn’t part of the fandom then, so I don’t know how fans from 2015 felt upon learning they’d get more Simon and Baz. Same with Good Omens. I only really got into the fandom a few months before season 2 came out. So I don’t know how OG fans felt waiting and waiting and waiting. So maybe I have that going for me as an advantage, that my hunger wasn’t growing more and more feral.

Then again, I’m now a part of The Sandman fandom, and we’re essentially waiting on Season 2 to start development. And while I’m hoping a few things are tweaked (like Dream and Hob’s relationship), I’d be more than fine if it stays the same as in the comics. And if they decide to go about that in an entirely different way, I’d be fine with that too. You know why? Because I’ve learned to trust the writers of the stories I love not to lead me astray.

And if I’m unhappy with something –because nothing is ever 100% perfect, and even my favourite stories end up coming short– there are always fanfictions to write, gifs to laugh at, and fandom friends to discuss plots and meta with.

I may have lost the point of this meta. I tend to do that, following a train of thought that doesn’t always make sense in the end.

Fandom friends, can we all just agree to take a breath and be thankful of the stories given to us? Can we learn to appreciate the entire picture, and not just a tiny section of it? And for the love of all that is holy, can we learn to be patient and to listen when our story tellers remind us to wait and see? To trust them when they assure us that our characters will have a happy ending, even if they need to traverse a little in the dark to get there?

I sure as hell am, and I hope you will too.

Gonna tag @carryonsimoncarryonbaz because she was instrumental in encouraging me to write this.

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itsybitsylemonsqueezy · 3 months

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Continuing my new series of "dumb thoughts I have about Baldur's Gate 3," I have a strong conviction that every companion/main character may be represented by an (hilarious) 80s anthem (if you pretend that 1976-1983 is the 80s).

So, without further ado, here is my personally curated playlist for the BG3 Companions!

Astarion

"Somebody to Love" by Queen I mean, where do I start? Take a look in the mirror and cry? I spent all my years in believing you? Or my personal favorite, I just gotta get out of this prison cell/Some day I'm gonna be free! Lord... And the thing to get about this is not so much that Astarion is looking for romance necessarily, but he wishes to be in a place safe enough to love. I think that's really one of his most cherished dreams, being able to form a stable, long-term relationship with someone who will keep him safe, where he will be safe and not alone anymore. But also, can you imagine this drama queen complaining, with a full choir back up, about how hard he works every day? Dear god. So I humbly pitch "Somebody to Love" for his anthem.

The Emperor

"More than a Feeling" by Boston Listen, I was overcome by the fact that a tadpole in your brain certainly is more than a feeling. It was too good not to share! He just wants to love you!

Gale

"Tainted Love" by Soft Cell Is there a more appropriate sentiment for Gale and Mystra than I gave you all a boy could give you/Take my tears and that's not nearly all! ? This is my break up song for the poor boy. You can do this Gale, I believe in you!

Halsin

"Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper You see a big bear sprawling in the sunny flowers in the middle of a forest clearing and what do you think? Girls just wanna have fun, absolutely! Also, Cyndi Lauper is an OG in sexual liberation, which is very Halsin.

Karlach

"Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler Oh, the jokes really don't stop with this one ^^; It's about living in a powder keg and giving off sparks? Being lonely for so long? Bright eyes? I mean... Karlach absolutely lives up to the melodrama here.

Lae'zel

"Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor This one I'm probably least satisfied with as it feels very hurr durr Lae'zel fight good. But "Livin' on a Prayer" didn't come out until 86, "Welcome to the Jungle" was 88, "Immigrant Song" is right out in 1970... and none of these are quite right either. Haven't found one yet that properly captures some of the nuance of our complex, fighty lady. Perhaps subject to change later.

Shadowheart

"Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey Alright, I'll admit this one isn't perfect either, but... come on! The title is just too good! And such a rosy, hopeful song about beating the odds in the face of Shadowheart's pessimistic doom and gloom, it was just so good!

Withers

"Hotel California" by The Eagles If bone man isn't the personification of You can check out any time you like/But you can never leave I don't know what is.

Wyll

"Carry On My Wayward Son" by Kansas If this song is ruined for you by certain other cultural touchstones... suck it up. Or if you must, replace with "Take On Me" by a-ha, because that was a close second. But I think when you really think about it, Wyll is very much a wayward son, trying to create a little peace in this world.

#BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #Baldur's Gate 3 companions #Astarion #The Emperor bg3 #Gale bg3 #Halsin #Karlach #Lae'zel #Shadowheart #Withers bg3 #Wyll #I think everyone deserves a little 80s power anthem myself #Shhhh 1976 counts as the 80s you hush

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evevoli · 7 months

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original story concept: flight feathers (working title)

aka me shoving my new OCs in everyone's faces for a few minutes. low and behold, my gang of losers:

from left to right: Phoenix, Selene, Helios, and Killian

so a wayward beam of divine insanity lightning struck me about four months ago in the form of the first genuinely coherent original story idea i've had in... basically forever and i am finally crawling out of my mad ornithologist lab to talk about it, if only so i have something to point to when i start tagging random innocuous text posts with the names of characters no one's ever heard of. this project is perhaps the most self-indulgent Autism Fueled venture i have ever gone on and it is so fun actually

the basic gist of the story is that local Teenage Bird Hater Selene accidentally gets isekai'd to a Greco-Roman/baroque-inspired city on a floating archipelago hidden in the clouds, inhabited by bird-worshipping winged people. there she befriends a strange one-winged fortune teller named Phoenix, who takes her in while she looks for a way back down to earth.

as a certified Bird Disliker(tm) for reasons she will absolutely not disclose, the idea of being trapped in this city with its strange bird-entrenched culture has got to be Selene's personal hell. but she's already made a few good friends and is learning a lot, so hey... if you ignore the castle surrounded by doves looming off in the distance, and the general poor sentiment surrounding corvids, maybe it's not such a bad place to be after all.

...until it turns out the King himself might have it out for her, much to the dismay of his son and loyal knight, Prince Helios and Captain Killian.

there is. A Lot more to it than that lol—and at least like 8 more characters i haven't gotten to drawing yet—but there's your elevator pitch. to explain the world a bit more, everyone has bird wings to fly with, their own Bird Familiars(tm), and rides around on pegasi and different species of griffin. the world consists of little islands connected by bridges, with the city developed vertically, and sort of resembles a fusion between the Aether mod in Minecraft and Zephyr Heights in MLP G5.

and now the most important thing, the Closeups

some notes:

Selene is transfem :), Helios is transmasc only because i tried giving him curled ram horns and got so frustrated trying to draw them i just gave up and gave him the ewe ones instead

Selene is a Wolf Kid and really vibes with the lyrics to Angel of Darkness on a personal level

Helios's wings are weak and undersized so he can't take off or fly for very long on his own

i like to consider Helios my personal challenge to design the most unapologetically cringe and archetypal character ever. i am going to make a character that is so sad little loser prince. kicks him

Phoenix is a childhood nickname, Killian is just a shortened form of Achilles. Phoenix absolutely hates his birth name. Killian is ambivalent towards his

Phoenix lost his left wing in an accident that changed the trajectory of his life forever teehee :3c

the little blue jay is named Celeste, the crow is Peanut, and the tawny owl is Athena :)

and that is all i shall reveal in this post >:) this idea has been rotting my brain from the inside out for months now so don't hesitate to shoot me an ask if you're wondering about anything :]

#so nervous finally posting this stuff lol #flight feathers #evff #<- that is the best general tag i can think of 💀 trying hard not to spam a fandom with a certain acronym here im so sorry #selene ff #helios ff #phoenix ff #killian ff #original story #my art #ev.post #oc tag

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doyoulikethissong-poll · 1 month

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What song did you personally like the best out of this round? Did a song make an impact right away or did it require the full version? Did the artist reveal change your opinion for better or for worse? Tell me in a reblog! :D

(note: this is not a popularity contest or to vote for a favourite artist out of loyalty 💖 it's still about the song.)

#tumblr #polls #showdown #vote #current

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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 11 months

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Honesty. Horrible, Horrible Honesty. (Chapter Eleven)

Summary: This is Part Eighteen of my series A Herrmann/Halstead Production. It is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.

Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, pre-Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz/Original Female Character, Will Halstead/Connor Rhodes, Assorted OC Couples

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mild Injury, Swearing, Characters Working Through Trauma, Repairing Relationships, Fluff, I Swear There are Funny Bits Along with the Emotional Bits

A/N: IT'S FINALLY DONE!!! OH my goodness, what a beast. I'm sorry this chapter is so long, but I figured you would all murder me if I broke into two chapters again. Next time I get the genius idea to smoosh two installments into one, someone around here better be the voice of reason and remind me of this monster installment.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Karaoke wasn’t exactly Ed’s thing. At least, not without a considerable amount of booze in his system and he didn’t do that anymore.

The bells and whistles of the screens grated on his senses. He preferred tinkering with a song on his guitar. The act of creating something. Making a connection with the sound.

Despite all of that, he had to hand it to Beau. The guy had managed to cajole, tease, and flirt his way through getting every member of their one hundred percent sober group into the experience.

Charming bastard.

Now all six of them were yell-singing Carry On Wayward Son by Kansas very badly, but with a whole lotta enthusiasm.

Maybe bringing him along wasn’t such a mistake after all.

He thought for a hot minute at the bar that it was—with the way Beau was poking at Mouse to the point Ed almost intervened—except he could see the moment it changed and Mouse turned toward Beau and seemed to be listening to whatever the heck the guy was saying to him.

Mouse had still been quiet after that, but it was more thoughtful than brooding and he wasn’t nearly as tense. Ed was keeping an eye on him. He wasn’t about to let all of their hard work keeping him level fall apart.

Which meant he was keeping an eye on Jay too.

Ed felt for the guy. He knew what it was like to get yourself so turned inside out that every move you made only twisted things further until you couldn’t breathe.

Path like that always had collateral damage though and he was going to keep doing what he could to make sure Mouse didn’t take any more hits.

Seeing them both smiling was an encouraging sign. Ed was pretty sure they were going to find their way through and hopefully patch things up with this Bex girl along the way.

Their support group had been hearing about her for ages and everyone was rooting for her and Mouse. They should have known the two of them getting together wouldn’t be an easy feat. Not when Mouse carried as much baggage as the rest of them, if not more. But despite very rocky roads, everyone in their group had found their own happily ever afters eventually.

Convincing Mouse he could too seemed to be an on-going mission. One that would hopefully get easier now that Jay wasn’t throwing up road blocks.

From everything he’d heard, Bex was rightfully pissed about how things went down, but she also didn’t sound like the kind of person to give up. Not on Mouse. Not yet.

Luckily for him.

They just needed a few more days to help work on what he wanted to say and boost his confidence up as much as they could. And then carefully plan how to approach Bex. He was about ready to call the group back in and he figured they could help take it over the finish line.

“Ed!” Beau called out, breaking through his thoughts. “Your turn to pick a song!”

He ambled over to take a peek at the song book. “They got any AC/DC?”

Their hour flew by and Ed considered it time well spent. Mouse had been isolating himself to a concerning degree and Ed was happy to sacrifice a lot little dignity if it meant getting him back to his people.

Once the room was squared away, they headed out and ran straight into a giggling group of ladies in the hall. Ed excused himself and moved back to let them pass only to walk back into a unmoveable wall of bodies behind him.

“Guys, manners,” he grumbled. “Move back a bit.” He was about ready to get an elbow going if need be when Jay finally spoke up.

“Bex? Cindy? Sergeant Platt?”

Well, hell.

***

Bex

The karaoke bar was amazing.

No shade to karaoke at Molly’s, but having your own room to dance around and be a total dork?

Best thing ever.

They’d gone through an epic medley that started off hot with Laura Branigan’s Gloria and ended with What’s Up? by 4 Non Blondes.

“We have to do this more often,” Cindy exclaimed as they were packing up. “Ladies’ night! Once a month! What do you say?”

“I’m in,” Trudy said with a little grin. “Might have to scale back a bit unless Bex wants to provide another fraught romantic entanglement for everyone to bet on.”

The four of them stared at her for that.

“Too soon?” She nodded to herself. “Yeah, no, that’s fair.”

“We could always get some bets going on your wedding,” Bex suggested, shooting a Trudy a cheeky grin and skipping out of the way when she swatted at her. The four of them spilled out into the hallway, giggling up a storm, with Trudy on their tail—

And bumped into the last group of people she expected to run into at Rhonda’s Karaoke Bar.

A gruff looking gentleman with long brown hair nodded at them and stepped back, motioning for her group to move past, but he ran into a wall of shocked guys behind him.

Beau, Will, Connor, Jay, and Mouse were standing there staring at them; the looks on their faces probably mirrored the one on her own.

“Guys, manners,” the guy grumbled. “Move back a bit.”

Bex felt another giggle travelling up her throat. One slightly more hysterical than the last.

This was too surreal.

“Bex?” Jay finally burst out. “Cindy? Sergeant Platt?”

“It’s a karaoke bar, Chuckles,” Trudy said. “It’s not like you ran into us in the middle of some den of iniquity. Calm down.”

With a jolt, Bex’s own brain finally came back online and she looked between their two awkwardly closely pressed groups. “Right, uh, so I don’t think everyone here knows each other,” she said. “Um, Cindy, Donna, Trudy, and Emery.” Bex gestured at her own group before pointing at the guys. “Jay, Will, and Connor, you all know, but this is Beau Taggert, and I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

The long-haired gentleman reached out to shake her hand, firmly, but gently. “Ed,” he said. “Ed Spencer.” Oh. From Mouse’s group. He smiled at the recognition that must be sparking in her eyes. “Nice to finally meet you, Bex,” he murmured.

Like he’d heard about her.

Oh, god, she was definitely blushing.

She looked over at Mouse which only made it worse. “And, uh, this is Mouse,” she said. “And now you all know each other which is great. Are we heading out?”

Where was the freaking exit?

“I have to say that running into such a beautiful group of ladies is the perfect end to our evening,” Beau said stepping forward. He offered his arm to Trudy with an exaggerated flourish. “May I escort you to the parking lot?”

Trudy stared at his arm before turning back to their group. “What is this? Is he for real?”

“Yeah,” Bex sighed with a little laugh. “He is.”

Beau wiggled his arm at her, standing at a half bow as he gazed up at her through his stupidly-long lashes. Trudy’s lips twitched as she fought a smile.

“Alright, Casanova,” she snorted, taking his arm. “Lead the way, but no funny business. I’m taken.”

They headed down the hall and Bex would swear she heard Trudy giggle.

Next Ed, stepped up and offered his arm to Donna. “Oh,” she said, taking it with a grin. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Cindy took a quick peek at Bex, narrowing her eyes for a moment and then nodding to herself. “Two for me!” she declared, abandoning Bex to loop her arms through Will and Connor’s and follow Donna toward the exit. The two of them barely had time to look back at her as they were dragged away.

Emery poked at Bex’s side subtly, inclining her head in question.

Are you okay being left with Mouse?

Something that was clearly part of Beau’s plan to begin with. One that everyone else seemed to think was a good idea as well.

Even though her heart was pounding, Bex nodded. This was a good little test run.

Being friendly.

Just Mouse and Bex.

Being regular friends again.

Easy peasy.

“Ahem.” Emery held her arm out to Jay. “May I escort you to the parking lot?”

A startled laugh burst out of him as he took a quick look back at Mouse who gave him his own tiny nod.

Looked like they were both being brave today.

“Uh, sure,” Jay said, taking her arm. “Thanks.”

The two of them walked away, each taking a turn to do a super obvious peek back to double check even when Bex flapped her hand from her hip to wave them forward.

Finally, it was just Mouse and Bex in the hallway.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Bex panicked and said…

“’Sup?”

***

Mouse

Bex slapped a hand against her face and groaned. “I mean, hi, hello, whatever,” she mumbled into her hand.

Mouse wanted to hold her so badly, he ached.

Instead, he reached out and carefully tugged her hand away. “I heard about what happened,” he said. “How are you?” Even though she was wearing make-up and the lighting was dim, Mouse swore he could make out the two marks on her cheek. The ones Kim had shown him in that video.

The ones that asshole had left.

“I’m fine, really,” Bex said, quickly. “Jay was—he jumped in, you know? I mean, you’ve seen him. He definitely took the brunt of it.” She shrugged and looked away, not elaborating anymore than that.

He wasn’t sure he had the right to push so Mouse let it drop, still itching to take her in his arms until he knew for sure she was really okay. His gut churned though, hating the fact that he hadn’t been there for any of it. Grateful that Jay was. And then circling back around to hating the fact he hadn’t been there for Jay either.

Ed had told him repeatedly not to take that guilt on, but…

They were still his people. His family.

Bex’s lips quirked up in a little smile. “How, uh, how have you been?” She slowly started walking toward the exit and Mouse fell into step beside her. Wondering if he could offer his arm.

“Got roped into a wild guys’ night out,” he said instead and she laughed, warming him.

“Oh, right,” she said. “Trudy mentioned she gave you a slice of the bet money. I can’t believe how huge that pot was!”

“How big was it? She gave Jay a hundred bucks,” he said, curious to hear exactly how far the whole thing had gone.

“Enough that we had a spa night and dinner out,” Bex said, holding her hands out and wiggling her fingers. “Manicures and fancy dessert.”

“Wow.” Mouse’s eyebrows winged up. “Everybody really invested in that bet, eh?”

“Well,” Bex shrugged. “There was some fun money thrown in there too since they felt bad…”

Because he’d fucked it all up.

“Because they crossed all kinds of lines and got overly invested,” Bex said, reading his face perfectly. “Not that boundaries are really a thing that exist with our friends?” She bumped elbows with him, ducking her head to catch his eye which had been trained on the faded carpet.

Pick your moment, Ed had said.

Be honest, Chris had said.

Don’t hesitate, Jay had said.

Every step was bringing them closer to the exit. Closer to parting ways.

Maybe now was the moment? When he could be honest and try to put it all into words. Try and explain and get them sorted out and finally—

“You know, I’m glad we bumped into each other,” Bex said.

Mouse’s head whipped up to look at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bex nodded. “I wasn’t sure what it would be like, but I think—I think we can do this.”

“Do, uh, do what?” he asked, stopping in his tracks.

Bex reached out to grab his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Be friends still.” She smiled at him, sad around the edges in a way that had Mouse’s breath catching in his throat.

Friends.

Still.

Say something, he screamed at himself. Just say it.

She squeezed his hand once more before letting go and reaching for the door. “We better get out there before they leave without us,” she joked. “Who knows where Beau’s trying to convince them to go at this point.”

“Donuts,” Beau’s voice carried through the doorway as she headed outside. “Like you wouldn’t believe! Works of art. Come on; they’ll be half price by now.”

“No, you maniac,” Bex called out, heading toward the group. “Some of us have work tomorrow and beds to get to.”

“Is that an invitation?” Beau cackled and Bex’s started hassling him back, but her voice was no match for the buzzing in Mouse’s ears.

Why didn’t he say something?

Mouse gripped the door tight, cursing himself, before leaving the bar to join the group.

***

Bex

Bex was still shaking a finger at Beau when Cindy declared it time to actually go. “It’s been a lovely night, but I’m beat,” she said.

Everyone started to say their goodbyes when Jay sidled up next to Bex.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “I know you said you wanted time and I’m not trying to—I just, um—do you want to come over to my place tomorrow? I can make you dinner and maybe—maybe we can talk? A bit?”

She looked up at him, his face full of nerves and hope and bruises, and found herself nodding. Apparently, she was being brave across the board today. “Yeah,” Bex said. “I can do that.”

“Yeah?” Jay lit up. “Okay, yeah, great, that’s great. Uh, six pm work for you? Good, good. Don’t bring anything, okay? I’ve got it all covered. Just bring you. Okay. Good. Thank you.”

Bex chuckled a bit, nodding along with his rambling. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you then.” Jay’s grin was blinding.

Their two groups separated after that and Emery and Cindy both came to link arms with her as they walked back to Trudy’s SUV.

“Okay?” Cindy asked.

“I have no idea,” Bex said breathlessly. “But I think…I think we’re getting there.”

“Proud of you,” Emery said, snuggling into her side.

She was proud of herself too.

Up ahead, Donna was humming and doing a little shimmy. Soon the humming turned into singing. “Gloria, you're always on the run now…”

“Running after somebody, you gotta get him somehow,” Trudy continued.

Emery picked it up next. “I think you've got to slow down before you start to blow it.”

“I think you're headed for a breakdown, so be careful not to show it,” Cindy sang out, a little off, but with feeling.

“You really don't remember,” Bex sang, laughing as Emery and Cindy threw their arms out on either side of her. “Was it something that he said?”

All five of them started singing the next part together, dancing as they got into the vehicle and kept the party going at top volume all the way to Chris and Cindy’s.

***

Will

He watched Bex and her gang dance and sing and laugh their way into Trudy’s SUV and smiled to himself. Kind of on the nose for a song choice, but seeing Bex and Emery laugh like that?

A sight for sore eyes for sure.

Turning back to his own group, he was met with another welcomed view. A grinning Jay who was also watching the ladies leave. The little exchange between Bex and Jay hadn’t escaped Will’s attention.

“All good?” Will asked as they headed for Jay’s truck.

“Not yet,” Jay said, smile dimming a bit before he nodded resolutely. “But we’re going to get there.”

Good. Will patted Jay on the back, mindful of his injuries, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. That was really good.

***

Mouse had been quiet all the way back to his place.

The bad kind of quiet again.

Ed waited until it was just the two of them in the apartment before breaking the silence. “What happened?”

“What always happens,” Mouse said bitterly, slumping down in the arm chair, dragging a hand through his hair. “I fucked it up.” He sighed, looking up at Ed with dull eyes. “I had the moment. I wanted to be honest, but I—I—I hesitated. I couldn’t get the words out.”

“What did Bex say?” Ed asked, taking a seat on the couch.

Mouse’s lips went thin as he pressed them together. “That she’s ‘glad we can still be friends’,” he said. “She’s moving on.”

“She said that?” Ed clarified. “Or is that an assumption on your part?” Mouse’s silence was answer enough.

“Listen,” Ed leaned forward. “This is good news. You need to be able to be friends again. And being friends doesn’t mean you can never be more.”

Mouse rolled his head back against the chair, face drawn down in glum lines. Oh, he had it bad. Ed didn’t miss those days.

“You actually think I still have a chance?” Mouse asked quietly.

“I think you need to be able to talk to her and be honest with her in order to get it,” Ed said. “But yeah, man, I do.” He reached out to pat Mouse’s knee. “We’ll figure it out.”

And maybe call in reinforcements again in order to do that.

***

Cindy

The kids were in bed when they got home, miracle of miracles. Donna had left with Wallace and Mouch left with Trudy to take the girls home.

Now it was just her and Christopher.

“Did you have a good night?” he asked, sitting down on the couch with her and plopping her feet in his lap to give them a rub.

“It was…epic,” Cindy said with a laugh. “I think it was really good for Bex and Emery too to let loose in a safe way.”

“Ah, that’s good,” Chris smiled at her softly. “I’m so glad you did that. I say it every day; we’re lucky to have you, Cinds.”

Soon he was about to have a lot more of her.

She couldn’t put this off any longer. Okay. She was going to do it. Right now.

Oh, lord.

He made a little grumpy sound when she pulled her feet out of his lap and sat up on the couch.

“Christopher,” Cindy said, bracing herself. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Sounds serious.” His smile fell when she didn’t laugh back. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m pregnant,” she said, words coming out of her in a rush. “I know we didn’t plan for this and it’s the worst possible timing with the plan for the bar expansion and we already have our hands so full—”

“Cindy.” Chris scooched closer on the couch and took her hands in his. “Honey, breathe.” His eyes went wide as he gripped her hands. “A baby?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” she whispered back.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Yeah?”

“Yes, Christopher,” she said, leaning into him and he rearranged them to put his arm around her and cuddle her in close. “A baby.”

“Wow,” Chris said.

“You’re not freaking out.” Cindy poked him in the side, feeling slightly miffed by that. “Why aren’t you freaking out.”

“I mean, I am a little bit,” he shrugged. “But we’ll make it work. We always do. It’s not just you and me here, you know? We’ve got a whole gang to support us.” He pulled her in tight. “One thing we always have enough of in this family is love and I already love this little bean.” Chris pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you most of all though,” he murmured into her hair.

“Love you too,” Cindy said, enjoying the cuddle. She still wasn’t quite sure how they were going to make this work, but knowing that Christopher was whole-heartedly on board made it easier to start thinking about.

And he was right. They did have a whole gang. She could feel the truth of that, especially after tonight. They were going to be okay.

After a few minutes, her comfy resting place started trembling. She sat up, alarmed. Chris had his hand pressed against his eyes and his shoulders were shaking. Was it sinking in now? Was he overwhelmed?

“Oh, Christopher.” Cindy pulled his hand away from his face to find tears streaming down his cheeks.

But he wasn’t crying.

He was laughing.

“It was—it was my birthday, wasn’t it?” he gasped out. “In the van?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s when it happened.” Cindy slumped back against the couch with a groan. “My distraction technique got a little out of hand.”

“It was good!” Chris giggled, reaching for her again. “Great even. I think I could use another distraction right now.”

“Christopher!” She let him reel her in with a laugh, careful not to wake the kids. She’d earned a little distraction herself, after all.

***

Bex

The next morning, in the cold light of day, Bex was having second thoughts.

Maybe she’d agreed to dinner too quickly.

Maybe she wasn’t ready.

She was a pile of nerves all through her diner shift. Her manager almost sent her home after the third dropped glass, but she managed to convince them to let her stay. Waiting at home, climbing the walls until six pm would be even worse.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to Jay. She did. She was willing to hear him out at least.

The problem was that she had no idea how it was going to go. This whole thing had caught her off guard and now she felt like she didn’t know what to expect from Jay. There was a part of her that didn’t trust that it wouldn’t all go sideways again.

Didn’t trust him.

Which was why she knew she had to go through with it, nerves and second thoughts be damned. Not trusting Jay was like…not being able to draw or sing. It felt wrong having something she’d always been so sure of taken away, leaving an open wound that ached more every day.

She wanted to be able to trust him again. Needed to. Needed him back in her life. And if that was going to happen, they had to fix this. Even if they had to do it one dinner at a time.

And even if it meant eating that much of Jay’s cooking.

So, yes, she was nervous as heck, but they were doing this. No matter what.

Bex made it through the rest of her shift by the skin of her teeth and then managed to get some panels for the book done when she got home as well. Which wasn’t that many when she was eyeing the clock the whole time, but whatever.

There was a nice little interlude when both Cindy and Chris were texting her. Cindy to say that telling Chris about the baby had gone well and Chris to cheer in all caps about it to her. They asked her to keep it quiet for now until they were ready to tell people which she understood. Cindy wasn’t that far along yet. Then Chris kept sending her videos of Mouch bopping around the station, humming Gloria, and getting mad every time he spotted the phone. Each one was punctuated by the sound of Chris cackling madly off screen every time he got caught.

It was a fun twenty minutes of keeping her mind off of things in any case.

At six pm on the dot, she was knocking on Jay’s door. Normally, she’d use her key after knocking and head right in, but that didn’t sit right. Not with how things stood at the moment.

Bex waited and knocked again after a minute or two. The faint sounds of cursing and pots clanging made their way through the door. “Coming!” Jay yelled.

He frowned lightly when he found her on the other side. “You have a key,” he said, baffled.

“I know, I just—I wasn’t sure,” Bex trailed off and Jay snapped out of his stupor.

“No, yeah, no worries,” he said, stepping back to let her in. “I’m glad you came.”

She hung her bag by the door and sniffed the air, ready to guess what he was making, but—

“Is something burning?”

“Shit!” Jay yelped and dashed off toward the kitchen, setting off another round of slightly concerning crashes and bitten off curses.

“Do you need any help?” Bex called out.

“NO! No, I’ve got it, thanks.” Another clang.

Bex pressed her lips together, not wanting to laugh at her brother’s very genuine attempts to make dinner for her.

“Okay,” Jay poked his head into the living room. “It’s ready now. You can come in.”

She followed him into the kitchen where the table was nicely set with carefully made up plates of what looked like creamy chicken penne (with slightly burnt chicken).

“What can I get you to drink?” Jay asked, poking his head in the fridge. “Wine? Beer? …I don’t have juice. Why didn’t I get juice?”

“Water’s fine,” Bex assured him. She was still working on detoxing her system, but Jay didn’t need to know exactly how much alcohol she’d already had this week.

He brought the drinks to the table and motioned for her to sit down, joining her when she did. “Okay, uh, dig in,” he said. “I hope you like it.”

It was surprisingly delicious, despite the occasional charred bit. Bex voiced her appreciation as she ate and they spent the meal talking about safe topics: Work, Will, and the Herrmann gang.

Jay cleared their dishes away after they finished eating and then reached for a container on the counter, pausing to tap his fingers on it for a moment before actually bringing it to the table.

“What’s that?” Bex asked, peering at the square plastic container. It was coloured blue so she couldn’t see inside, but the way Jay was biting at his lip was raising her suspicions.

“It’s, uh, it’s dessert,” Jay said, huffing out a breath as he pulled the lid off. He sat back after, waiting for her reaction.

Inside was a tidy pile of chocolate chip cookies. Not Pillsbury this time.

“Jay,” Bex said, picking one out of the container. “You made these?”

He nodded nervously and she took a bite. “Mm! They taste great!”

“Oh, good,” Jay whispered under his breath, relaxing finally. “That was my third batch,” he said sheepishly. “I ran out of ingredients after that one so I was hoping for the best.”

“Three? What happened to the—”

“Horrible things, Bex,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t even want to know. The first batch was a massacre. It’s been a long time since I tried baking anything from scratch and I was never as good at it as you are.”

She couldn’t help but feel touched by the gesture.

“Well, you did pretty great with these,” she said, selecting another cookie and he did the same, looking pleased with himself when he took a bite. “How did you manage to make three batches of cookies and dinner all before six?”

“Voight let me cut out early,” he confessed. “I told him it was for you and it was important and he said yes, no questions asked.”

“Aw.” That was actually pretty sweet. “I’m going to have to send a new joke with you to tell him tomorrow as a thank you.”

“Oh. Sure. That, uh, that could be—”

Bex grinned at the constipated look on Jay’s face as he tried to wrap his brain around agreeing to that. He made a face at her when she started laughing.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” she said. “You’d mess up the punch line.”

“Rude.” He pointed a finger at her and they both broke into giggles over that.

It almost felt normal for a moment. Until the laughter faded away and they both remembered why she was there.

Jay cleared his throat. “You want to sit in the living room?” he asked. “More comfortable in there.”

Bex doubted anything about this would be comfortable, but she followed him over to the couch anyway.

He sat at one end while she sat at the other and there was silence for a few minutes. Bex wasn’t about to start things off and she thought maybe he wasn’t going to either until—

“I’m sorry, Bex,” Jay said, leaning forward like he wanted to reach out and touch her, but holding himself back to give her space. “God, I’m so sorry for all of it. I never should have said anything to Mouse and gotten between the two of you.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair and shook his head.

“After everything went wrong with Erin…again,” Jay sighed. “I was really messed up. I know—I know I should have talked about it, I just—I couldn’t. Everything hurt too much.”

She shuffled over a bit on the couch, she couldn’t help herself. Even as upset with him as she’d been, she hated to see her brother upset.

“I got it all twisted,” Jay continued. “I convinced myself that I knew better than the two of you and I was helping you. Saving you from the pain that I was feeling.”

“You don’t get to make those choices for me, Jay,” Bex said, proud of how steady her voice was. “Mistake or not, I deserved a chance to make that one on my own. Mouse too.”

“I know,” Jay nodded. “You’re right and for what’s it worth, I don’t actually think you two would be a mistake.”

Bex blinked at him, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, you need me to list off the reasons?” He looked up at her and started ticking off points on his fingers. “You’re already great friends, you get each other’s humour, you like the same weird shows, you both love people like…down to your bones even if you show it in different ways and everyone says—” Jay sighed deeply. “I can’t believe you’re making me say this, but everyone has seen the spark and the connection between the two of you.”

Bex sat back. “Jesus, Jay.” She buried her face in her hands for a moment. “How can you—” She slammed her hands down, a burst of frustration at him running through her. “How can you say all of that now? After what you did?”

“Because I’m trying to be honest with you, Bex,” he said quietly. “And the truth is, that I saw all of that and it scared the shit out of me so I tried to make it into something else. Focused on other reasons to justify it all instead of thinking about the truth.”

“And what’s that?” This was what she was here for. To bleed out the poison so she was going to make him say it. Whatever it was.

“That I was going to be left alone,” Jay whispered, staring down at his hands. “Chris and Cindy have always been a unit. Will and Connor found each other. You, me, and Mouse, we were like our own little family within the family. I thought I’d always have you guys, but then I saw you circling each other and it was like…this is it. They’re going to pair off and I’ll be alone.”

A mess of emotions rose up in Bex and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to smack him or hug him. She got up from the couch so she wouldn’t do anything too hasty, moving to pace a bit on the other side of the coffee table.

Jay let her go for a bit before speaking up hesitantly. “Bex?”

She shook her head at him, arms crossed, and paced some more. Finally she stopped, coming to stand in front of him. “Ten years,” she exclaimed. “Ten years, Jay.”

His face crinkled up in confusion. “What are you—”

“Our parents robbed us of ten years of knowing each other,” Bex said, flinging her arms out. “Ten whole freaking years of being Bex and Jay. Brother and sister. Best friends. And I have spent every day since then trying to make up for that time.”

“Bex—”

“How could you possibly think I’d leave you alone?” She came over to the couch again and shoved him. “You are stuck with me, you asshole. Do you understand? You are never, ever getting rid of me and if you think me dating anyone would change that, obviously, we have some work to do on this relationship because that’s not who we are, okay?”

She hopped onto the couch and wrapped her arms around him, leaning on his back to rest her chin on his shoulder as she squeezed as hard as she could. “You’re such a dummy,” she muttered.

“Apparently,” Jay said with a sniff.

“I love you anyway,” Bex said.

“I love you too.”

“I mean it, you know,” she said, still squeezing him. “You’re not getting rid of me. Ever. I’m here until we’re old and grey. You’ll probably be bald. I’ll still be cute.”

Jay laughed.

“I’ll even let you die first,” she offered.

“Jesus, Bex!”

“I’m just trying to make you feel better,” she laughed as he shoved her away with a roll of his eyes. “Now who's rude.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand as she resettled out on the couch. “I’m really fucking sorry, Bex,” he said, the tears swimming in his eyes surprising her. “I mean it, I—however long it takes, I’m going to work on making this up to you. Making things better between us.”

“I know, Jay,” she said. “I believe you.” And because she did, she took a deep breath and said, “I accept your apology. New path, okay?”

“Hope I don’t run out of those,” he said.

“Impossible.” She was pretty sure that went against the whole philosophy.

“Thanks, Bex,” he whispered, grabbing her in another hug before sitting back and swiping at his eyes. “Ah. Okay. So, uh, in the spirit of making things better, I need to say something.”

***

Jay

“It’s about Mouse,” Jay said, feeling beyond shitty at how closed off Bex instantly got. Protecting herself.

“Mouse and I are doing okay,” she said, her attempt at sounding relaxed about it falling flat to his ears. “I think we’re getting back to being friends again. It’ll be fine.”

Jay sighed. Friends was good. Obviously, he wanted them all to be friends again, but that wasn’t all the two of them needed. It wasn’t what they deserved.

What they deserved was a real chance.

“I know I’m not really in the position to ask you a favour, but I’m doing it anyway,” he said and Bex nodded for him to go ahead. “When Mouse talks to you, please give him a chance. Listen to him.”

Bex frowned at him. “I am,” she said. “I have. We were talking last night, you were there. I meant what I said, Jay. We’re getting back to being friends again.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he sighed, shuffling around to face her fully on the couch. “I’m not the only one who…made bad choices because he was scared, okay?”

She stilled and he pressed on.

“So when he talks to you,” Jay said. “I’m asking for you to give him a chance and to listen. Will you do that?”

Bex stared at him, searching his face until he saw a small kernel of hope bloom in her eyes. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I—I can do that.”

Jay breathed out a sigh of relief. That was something. Mouse had to do the rest, but this was a start. At least they had a chance now. He hoped they would make the most of it.

He leaned back against the couch and grinned over at Bex. She smiled back, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at him. Now that they’d made it through talking things over, Jay was relaxed enough to take a proper look at Bex and he wasn’t happy with what he saw.

The marks were still there on her cheek and she had dark circles under her eyes.

“Hey,” he said, getting her attention. “How are you really doing? With what happened the other night?”

She raised her eyebrows at the abrupt change in conversation. “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m glad Ty’s in jail and I hope he stays there for awhile.”

From what Jay had been hearing, the odds were pretty good on that so far. The security video from Bex’s building had caught most of it and was pretty damning.

Watching it had made him sick to his stomach, but he wanted to see. Wanted to know they had enough on the guy.

“How’s your back?” he asked her.

“Oh, it’s fine,” she waved him off. “A bit bruised, but Will checked it out. I’m all good.”

Jay stared at her, seeing the mask for what it was. Now that he was paying better attention.

“I’m serious,” Bex said with a little laugh, poking him for his silence. “Jay, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

“Try again,” he said. “If I had to be honest tonight, so do you.”

“I’m. Fine.” She shook her head looking away.

“Bex.”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Really, okay, I’m, uh, I’m—”

“Bex.”

She shook her head again, clenching her fists on her knees as she stared down at them.

“Please talk to me.” She couldn’t keep this all inside. It was definitely the worst of the Halstead traits she’d inherited. But it was a habit they had to break. All of them. “Please.”

“I was so scared, Jay,” she said, voice breaking. “I—I thought he was going to get to Emery. That he would kill her. Or me. Or you. And I froze. I couldn’t—I keep seeing it over and over in my brain and yelling at myself to move, to do something.” Bex scrubbed at her cheeks roughly.

“It was a scary situation,” he said, shuffling over to wrap an arm around her shoulders. Freezing was a common reaction, but he didn’t think pointing that out would make her feel any better. The whole situation had scared the shit out of him too. Seeing Ty go after Bex like that. He’d replayed it in his own mind often enough, haunted by what could have been.

“And I was useless,” she burst out. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did—”

“I will always show up for you,” Jay said, feeling that promise in his soul.

Bex sighed. “You can’t promise that, Jay. You said it yourself, remember?”

He did, unfortunately. The Leon’s incident. Felt like a hundred years ago at this point, but he remembered the words he’d snapped out in anger. In fear. As much as he hated to think about it now, Bex was right about the truth behind them.

There had to be something they could do though. He hated seeing her like this. “How can I help then? What can I do to help you feel safe?”

She was quiet for a minute before she looked up at him. “I want you to teach me how to fight,” she said. “I know we had those lessons years ago and I know self defense stuff, but I need more.” She clenched her hands into fists. “I need to practice and really be able to handle myself so I won’t freeze again. Ever.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he agreed slowly. Training was why he’d been able to act. Part of fighting was muscle memory.

“Yeah?” Bex shuffled up on the couch, getting excited now. “You’ll teach me? I want to learn not just the regular moves, but like…how to fight dirty. In case someone like Ty ever comes at me again. I want to be ready.”

If Jay had his way, that would never even be a possibility, but he’d seen enough of the world to know the odds weren’t in their favour. And he never wanted Bex to feel defenceless ever again.

“I will,” he agreed. “I can round up some of Intelligence too so we’ve got a bigger pool of moves to learn from and you can practice fighting people who are different sizes and strengths.”

“Really?” Her eyes went soft with gratitude. “That—that would be amazing, Jay. Thank you.” She made a weird face after that. “Don’t, uh, don’t ask Mouse to help though, please.”

“Are you sure?” Jay had already been running through everyone’s strengths and weaknesses and starting a training list. “He’s actually really good with hand-to-hand stuff.”

***

Bex

Well, I really don’t want the first time we put hands on each other to be because I’m learning how to fight…

…was not something she wanted to say to her brother.

“I’m sure,” she said instead. “I don’t want to add that into the mix while we’re still figuring everything else out.”

***

Jay

That was fair enough. “I’ll get in touch with everyone else and we’ll make a plan,” he said. “Upton and Burgess could probably give you some more specific tips too for moves that will work for someone your size.”

Bex took a deep breath and let it out slow, leaning back like a weight had been lifted. “I’d really appreciate that,” she said. “All of it. Thanks, Jay.”

“Anytime.” He gave her another hug, smiling a bit when she started to get twitchy as soon as they let go. “Was there something else you wanted to talk about?”

“No.” Bex squirmed. “Maybe. I don’t know. I feel weird asking—”

“Hey, come on.” He poked her knee. “We’ve been doing great at this talking thing. Don’t quit now.”

She levelled a look at him and then brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight. “Do you really think Mouse and I still have a chance?”

He kicked himself all over again for the number they’d done on her. “I’m sure of it,” he said.

Bex didn’t look fully convinced and Jay bit back a sigh, pained by the words he was going to speak. But he’d promised himself he’d help fix this. No matter what. “Bex,” he said. “I swear it. He is still disgustingly into you, okay? Trust me.”

A small smile spread across her face. “Okay,” she said. “I trust you.”

There was a weight behind those words that settled something in him he hadn’t realized was still out of place.

“Hey.” She perked up. “Want to eat some more of those cookies?”

“Heck, yes.” He scrambled up off the couch and she chased after him, both of them laughing.

***

Bex

Friday was a dedicated work on the graphic novel day. She was off from the diner and Molly’s so the plan was to make the most out of the block of time she had.

Bex managed to get a few pages done before her brain started to get too squirrelly and she found herself baking up a storm in the kitchen instead.

Soon she found herself with six batches of cookies and no idea who they were for.

She eyed the peanut butter chocolate chunk ones currently cooling on the counter.

Well, one idea.

She picked up her phone, wondering if she should text Mouse. He was probably home from work by now. She could drop them off. That was friendly.

Bex was still debating when her phone started vibrating with an incoming call. Mouse.

***

Mouse

Not only was Ed still at his place when he got home, but the rest of the group was there too.

“Uh, hey,” Mouse said, setting his bag down, feeling the weight of five pairs of eyes on him. “What’s, uh, what’s going on?”

“Ed told us about your performance issue,” Ada began. “With Bex—”

“That is not how I phrased it,” Ed growled, pointing a finger at her.

She rolled her eyes and waved him off. “He said you had an opportunity to talk to her, but you couldn’t do it,” she said. “It sounded like a support group trouble-shooting sort of thing.”

Mouse bit back a groan. This didn’t feel like something they could brainstorm their way through, but at this point, it couldn’t hurt. He kicked off his shoes and joined them in the living room.

Ada shuffled over and made room for him on the couch. “What happened?” she asked. “I thought you were solid on what you wanted to say.”

He grunted out a laugh. “Yeah, I know what I want to say, but having her standing there in front of me, being all—” He waved a hand in the air.

“Love of your life shaped?” Lucy offered from his other side.

Mouse glared at her, but she just smiled sympathetically. “Yeah,” he sighed.

“Okay,” Frank said, coming over to perch on the coffee table in front of them. “So maybe we need to rethink the plan. Scale it back.”

“Baby steps,” Lucy agreed.

“How?” Mouse rubbed at his forehead. “I can’t get anywhere with this if I don’t talk to her and—”

“Text her,” Chuck said from his spot in the arm chair. “You don’t have to say everything over text, but it would get the conversation started, right?”

“Not a bad idea,” Ed said, shrugging at Mouse, leaving the ball in his court.

What the hell. It was worth a try. He dug his phone out of his pocket and brought up Bex’s message thread. One that had been quiet for way too long.

Dear Bex

“I’m sorry,” Ada said, leaning over his shoulder. “But have you ever texted before? In your life? Because I have some serious questions and concerns.” She poked a finger at the screen. “What is this?”

“Hey—get—stop!” Mouse tried to move out of her reach and her hand hit the screen again. They both froze as his phone started calling Bex.

Sheer panic took over as he stabbed at the screen until the call ended.

“My bad,” Ada said when he scowled at her. “Let’s take another crack at the text thing.”

Everyone froze when his phone started buzzing.

“It’s Bex,” Mouse said. “She’s calling back. What, uh, what should I—”

“Answer it!” Five voices yelled out.

Oh, shit, right. Okay. He hit answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mouse, it’s Bex,” she said before hesitating a moment. “You called? I just wanted to make sure everything was okay…”

“Speaker,” Ada hissed at him from the other side. “Put her on speaker.”

He elbowed her back gently, but went ahead and did it because he knew he needed the back-up to get through this.

“Is someone there?” Bex asked, voice going tinny as it came through the speaker. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can go—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Mouse said. He gripped the phone tight, getting reassuring nods from Frank and Chuck. “My, uh, my support group is here.” He shot a look at Ada. “Some of them are being more supportive than the others.”

Bex made a funny, little considering noise at that. “This is a weird question, but are there five other people in your group?”

The others looked surprised and Mouse nodded before he remembered he was on the phone. “Yeah, why?”

“Cookies,” she said simply. It was an answer the confused the heck out of everyone else, but made Mouse’s heart do a warm, slow flip.

Cookies. Of course.

Only Bex.

Oh, she was talking again. “…so, everything’s okay?”

“Actually, I—” A flood of encouraging gestures from the group spurred him on. “I wanted to talk to you. About—about us.”

Bex took a sharp breath. “Yeah,” she said. “I’d like that too.”

Good. That was good.

Mouse swallowed, feeling everything he wanted to say fighting to get out, but it was all so much. Too much.

“You have to actually say something, bud,” Ed whispered from across the room.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry—I want to—I just—I don’t know how to do this, Bex, but I want to, I do, I’m sorry—”

“Hey, it’s okay, hey,” Bex’s soothing voice came out clear, quieting any help from the rest of the group. “Mouse, listen, I have an idea…is it okay if I come over?”

Five bobbing heads nodded furiously at him.

“Yeah,” he croaked out. “Please.”

“I’m on my way.”

***

Bex

Bex juggled the six containers of cookies in her arms and took a bracing breath as she knocked on Mouse’s door. It flew open to reveal two ridiculously beautiful women, one tall with brown hair, the other shorter with blonde.

“You must be Bex,” the brunette said warmly, holding the door open so Bex could step in. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“We’ve heard good things,” the blonde said with a wink.

“Nice to meet you too,” Bex said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the welcome and searching her brain for names she was pretty sure Mouse had never shared. “Um…”

“Oh, I’m Lucy,” the blonde woman said before pointing at her friend. “And that’s Ada.”

“And who’s this?” Ada asked, leaning down to let a very politely waiting Kol sniff her hand.

“That’s Kol.” Bex laughed as he instantly laid down and rolled over to receive more pets. She maneuvered her way past him, letting him enjoy pats from both ladies and was met by Mouse, Ed, and two other men.

“Hey,” Mouse said softly.

“Hey.” She offered the containers. “Pretty sure these belong to you guys.”

The cookies were received enthusiastically as Bex was greeted by Ed and introduced to Chuck and Frank. Ada and Lucy joined them with Kol and they were soon exclaiming over the containers of cookies as well, shocked that Bex had somehow brought all of their favourites.

Mouse shot her a tiny smile and she grinned back.

“Was this the idea?” he asked her.

“No, no, you know that had nothing to do with me,” Bex said, waving a hand at the containers and ignoring the confused looks from the others. She reached down to pick up Kol’s leash. “I thought we could go for a w-a-l-k?”

“A walk?” Mouse repeated, facing scrunching up adorably and Kol immediately started barking, doing a little dance.

“Yes, a walk,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully. “Which now you have no choice about because you said the word.”

***

Ed watched them leave, sending all the good energy he could, hoping Mouse could stick the landing this time.

“I like her,” Ada said around a mouthful of lemon cookie.

Everyone else murmured noises of agreement and Ed nodded. Fingers crossed they were headed for a celebration when Mouse got back and not another clean-up.

***

Bex

They walked in silence for awhile, Kol trotting along between them.

Now that she’d reached this part of the plan, Bex wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Should she say something? Or wait for Mouse to start? How long should she wait before it got weird?

Kind of felt like that deadline was fast approaching…

Come on, Bex, she pep-talked herself. The whole point of this was to talk to him so get the ball rolling.

She looked over at him, catching him in the same moment he was looking over at her and they both blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Mouse stopped in his tracks, head jerking back. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I pushed,” she said, trying to put words to the guilt that had been lingering behind the hurt and the sadness. “Maybe too much, too fast, I think. I know we weren’t anything yet, but I—”

“Hang on, no, wait.” Mouse shook his head. “Not doing this on the sidewalk,” he muttered to himself, looking around. He spotted something down the road and grabbed her hand. They jogged across the street with Kol and then Bex followed Mouse, his hand warm around hers, until they ended up at the entrance to a little park.

She stilled.

Remembering the last time they were in a little park together.

Mouse stopped too and she could see the moment it hit him. He let go of her hand and scratched the back of his neck, wincing a bit. “Is this okay? It’s okay if it’s not, we can go, I can find somewhere else—”

“No!” She didn’t want them wasting anymore time. “This is good,” she said. “It’s nice.”

“Okay, that’s—that’s good.” Mouse nodded to himself, squaring his shoulders before leading the way over to a picnic table sitting in the shade of a large maple tree. He sat down and she joined him, leaving a bit of space between them that Kol quickly leapt up to take.

Mouse chuckled at him, threading his fingers through Kol’s fur before looking up at her, face falling into serious lines. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Bex,” he said. “But you’re wrong about one thing. We might not have been anything yet, but we were going to be and we both knew it.”

Bex didn’t know what to say to that. It was one thing hearing it from other people, but hearing it from Mouse…she’d never been so happy and so crushed all at the same time.

“I’m sorry, Bex,” he said. “I freaked out—”

“Because of Jay,” she sighed. She might have forgiven Jay, but the sting of his actions hadn’t faded quite completely.

“Not just because of Jay,” Mouse was quick to correct her. “It was—” He rested his head against Kol for a second and muttered to himself.

“Mouse,” Bex began. “We don’t have to—”

“No.” He looked up, eyes wide. “We do. I do. I just need to get this out so, uh…”

Bex zipped her lips with a nod and he huffed out a laugh.

“Okay,” Mouse said and Bex braced herself, willing to hear whatever he had to say even if she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

***

Mouse

Mouse looked at Bex sitting across from him, patient and kind, and he hoped, god how he hoped.

That everyone was right about this.

That being honest with her could help fix things.

That it wouldn’t break them even further.

He didn’t know how much he could actually bring himself to share today. How much would be too much, but he was here—they were here—and he was going to try.

“We were headed toward something,” Mouse said. “And I freaked out.” He kept petting Kol, not confident at all in his ability to keep talking if he had to watch Bex’s reactions at the same time.

“Before I met Jay,” he continued. “My life—I didn’t have much in it. Nothing—nothing real, you know? And then we met and all of a sudden, I had a best friend. And it was amazing.”

Kol head-butted his chest and Mouse realized he’d been slacking on the pets. He picked it up again, letting the repetitive motion smooth the way for the next part.

“When we got back, he never gave up on me,” Mouse said, remembering how dark those days got. How he begged Jay to let him go. How Jay refused. “One day, I got to meet you in person.” Mouse smiled to himself at that memory. “And then I found myself with not just a best friend, but a—a family.”

He took a shaky breath. “That was—you don’t know what that meant to me. It was more than I thought I’d ever get and I was so happy. I was grateful. I should have left it at that probably, but—”

Mouse shook his head, feeling the pull all over again. Leaving it at that would have been impossible. It was. Even now.

“But then you—with you,” he said. “I started seeing all of the things I never thought I’d have and I wanted them, Bex. I wanted it so much.” He cleared his throat after his voice broke, giving himself a minute.

Bex’s hand twitched like she wanted to reach out and he almost flinched away because he didn’t think he could finish this if she did. She made a small noise instead before whispering. “Kol. Cuddle.”

The dog gave a soft little ‘boof’ before leaning against Mouse and flopping into his lap, snuggling in. Mouse wrapped his arms around him and gave him a squeeze, sending a quick, grateful look at Bex.

She nodded with a small smile even though there were tears in her eyes.

He forced himself not to look away this time. “The idea that I could have everything,” he said. “And that I could have it with you…”

It had been so big and so real and Mouse couldn’t—

“I couldn’t believe that could be for me,” he said.

Bex wiped at her cheeks, not saying anything yet, still giving him his space.

“Kol, down please,” he whispered and the pile of floof slithered down to the ground with a quiet grumble. Mouse shuffled over a little closer.

“I didn’t want to fuck things up and lose you,” he said. “But, uh, after doing pretty much exactly that, I’m starting to realize that never trying, that—that’s worse.” He knitted his fingers together in his lap before risking another look at her. “I’m not going to lie to you,” he said. “I’m—I’m still scared. There are things I should tell you about myself, my past—”

“That’s usually why people date, Mouse,” she said, not able to keep quiet any longer. “To get to know each other better.”

“Bex, I’m serious.” If she knew what she was getting herself into—

“So am I,” she exclaimed. “Listen. You know we’re in charge here, right?” She flung an arm out. “Like, we can do this however we want. Whatever works best for us.”

Mouse had a whole chorus of voices echoing in his brain, working to combat the lone, but loudest ever-present voice of dissent. The one that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

Listen. Just friggin’ listen to her.

Okay, that particular voice was definitely Ed.

“What are you thinking?” Mouse asked her.

“I think we take it slow and we do this,” Bex said. She snuck a look at Kol who was rolling around in the grass. “We w-a-l-k and we talk. You can tell me all the things that you think will scare me off and I’ll show you that I’m still here. For however long it takes for you to believe it.”

Mouse nodded slowly. That could work. They could do that.

“You’re not the only one here who’s overwhelmed by how this—” She hesitated before reaching out to take his hand. “—how this feels.” Bex shook her head lightly before smiling at him. Still holding his hand. “We don’t have to dive into the deep end,” she said. “I’m just happy to have a chance to try. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

Together. Mouse squeezed her hand. “Promise?”

Bex squeezed his hand back and nodded once, resolute. “Promise.”

And Mouse believed her. Even when he couldn’t trust himself, he trusted Bex. “Okay, then,” he said.

“Yeah?” She burst out in a big grin.

“Yes, Bex,” he said, grinning back, feeling almost loopy with relief until her smile faltered for a moment and frustration flashed across her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Ugh, it’s just—” She scrunched up her face in a borderline pout. “I really want to kiss your face off right now, but that doesn’t exactly fall under the taking it slow category, does it?”

A surprised laugh escaped Mouse before he could catch it. He felt himself blush as he pictured it and had to tamp down on the want. “Yeah, no,” he said in a strangled voice. “Not really.”

Bex stood up from their spot, also blushing as she laughed, shaking her head at them both. “Right, so good talk,” she said. “Good job team. High fives all around. Do you want to head back now?”

Mouse figured that was a good plan before he was tempted to bend the taking it slow plan. Bex picked up Kol’s leash and they left the little park, heading down the sidewalk.

“Hey, Mouse,” Bex said as they walked.

“Hey, Bex.”

“I’ll race you to that stoplight.” Kol started barking and doing a little dance as soon as she said the word race.

Mouse ducked his head at her teasing grin. “What do I get if I win?”

She started jogging backwards. “You’re gonna have to follow me and see,” she said, before turning around and taking off, Kol at her side.

“Can’t wait,” Mouse murmured, running after her.

Click here to read Part Nineteen: 500 Miles

Click here to read Honesty. Horrible, Horrible Honesty on ao3:

And here is the tag list (let me know if you wish to be added or removed):

@sorry-i-spaced, @iunnowatuwant, @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived, @ivyalmighty, @thewannabewriter, @lexhalstead3, @multifandomgrl08, @foxes-and-cats, @sensitivemallysix, @thebewingedjewelcat, @emme-looou

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