#which i will clearly go to therapy one day and fix and take part in the good and pure act of gay sex that everyone wants and needs :| | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

poetryinsilence · 2 years

Text

Noughts and Crosses - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x childhood friend!reader (part III)

A/n: Yo! PTSD and TRAUMA talk. Just beware. And Strong languages. But also he kinda went to therapy cuz he clearly needs it. Jake's raw emotions are what I need if I ever go see a therapist. No beta read, still going raw :)))

Summary: What you've learnt from years of absence of Jake runs much deeper than you think. From his line of work, he had witnessed a lot, but that doesn't mean it won't cost him.

Wc: 2,873

part I | part II part IV

Saturday rolls around as you kept yourself busy cleaning up the mess Jake made around your house, while he lounges and becomes one with your sofa, softly chuckling at the tv. The back of his skull bore into your gaze, and your brow knitted its way together as you watched his shabby blonde streaks woven and interlocked at the ends.

"Jackal...when was the last time you took a shower?" your words tread carefully.

Jake's head leans over the back of the couch with a shit-eating grin falls upside down, bemused by the nickname he hadn't heard in a long while.

"Well," he starts "How long has it been since my discharge from the hospital?"

Oh no. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I've tried, honestly. But you should try manoeuvring with one hand and two bricks attached to you."

You squeezed your eyes shut, pinching the bridge of your nose to keep the internal scream blockade from deafening the outside world. The physical stress weighs evermore on your shoulders as you nod slowly to psych yourself up for this next part.

Generating a black, flimsy plastic bag from your back pocket, you handed it to Jake. "Waterproof your leg, you're getting a bath. Now."

He smirks, wetting his lower lip. "If you wanted to get intimate, all yo—"

"Don't."

Hands threw up to surrender, lips pout like a puppy after he got scolded. No retort, only to do as he's told.

This isn't how you imagined you would spend your day. Filling a bathtub with whatever scraps of bath products you have left that could clean every single pup at the shelter. Except you're cleaning Jake. And it is as weird as it sounds. But for whatever reason, the sympathetic sentiment in you couldn't leave him like this, half of which was maybe, unintentionally, your neglect of not taking care of him. The guilt quietly seeps in.

Jake limps in, a plastic bag wraps just below his knee like a shitty Christmas present and manages to stage a twirl to his fashion statement. You gesture him towards the tub.

"Get in the tub with your back towards me. You can keep your clothes on—"

"Nope. I'm not doing that" Before you could finish your sentence, he shimmied his way out of his pants which made your gaze snap up to the ceiling with a growl of frustration. The flash of heat rises at the tip of your ears.

"You can look if you want." he beams, towering over and eyes connected with yours as he strides across to the bathtub and slinks himself in.

Is it okay to back out of this? No. You're not one to back away from a challenge. You can't let him think he's besting you in this situation. Tightening the iron grip of your jaw, you fix yourself onto the stool and get to work.

Jake hums to himself merrily, with his legs propped up against the tiles, and you at his service. You’re thankful that the excessive amount of bath products you dumped in this water is covering the explicit parts of him. The floral fragrance of jasmine loiters midair in the bathroom. That sweet scent doesn't fit Jake's personality, but he doesn't mind it. In fact, he likes the idea of smelling like you. He wonders what his mother would think if she saw the two of you now, grinning from ear to ear and saying 'I told you so'. The length she would go to prove his younger self wrong.

A happy memory transition to the next, the one he was hoping you wouldn't ask. One that has your fingertip tracing over the patterns over his shoulder, or what remains of it. The weight of the scar sustained from a trivial injury, but the cost of it leaves a heavy mark on his heart.

"Jake..."

"You remember when I told you not to call my mother?" he blurts out.

You hum.

"A while back, I had...a highlight to my career— achievement would be an overstatement, but everyone seems to think so. For a while, I thought so too. Being the only pilot with an active combat kill amongst my teammates."

There's a pause, unease and tension gnawed at the back of your throat. The silence of Jake treading on unfamiliar territories, a face of him that you briefly saw back at the hospital, one that you couldn't quite put the finger on it. But it’s clear to you now— fear.

"The celebrations led me to think what I did was right. And, in a way, it was. Protecting millions of lives is what I do. Then, when the dark kicks in, so do my past actions."

Your thumb encircles his tensed-up shoulder offering comfort, as his hand reaches up and cups yours, there's a mild tremor. Seeing his bravado crumble down to reveal his raw emotions made your heart break into pieces. But you could never understand what he's been through.

He dryly chuckles, "I called mom after that mission. I thought she would do the same and congratulate me, but it's like she knew. Her sobbing on the other line...all she did was ask if I was okay."

Molecules of water pool from the faucet and break the surface tension, sending ripples of waves through the bath foams. The droplets resonated in the room, even after it stopped, you could still hear the slow dripping hitting the water. You dare not to call his name, to face him at his most vulnerable, nor would he want you to see him like this.

Jake took a breath, suppressing his tremble to the best he could. "For months, I had the same dream about the mission. Sometimes I see myself in the other carrier, just waiting for that inevitable moment. I tried everything, but nothing changed. Eventually, I became numb, detached, and act like everything was fine. Knowing fully well this is what happens in this line of work. But, fuck...these are lives. And it could've been..." He trails off.

The hot, stinging tears roll down your cheeks. All you could do was hold him close to you, tightening and tightening your grip, wishing that the pain he experienced could be transferred onto you through an embrace. But, alas, nothing is ever that simple. You can only keep living with that grievance, hoping that someday you could ask for forgiveness.

The evening draws with a heavy blue, and the underglow of the tv lit up a fraction of the room. With you resting on the crook of his neck and him pressed onto the crown of your head, surrounded by cushions and blankets, you let The Good Place run on screen to fill in the emptiness. Jake's hand never left your grasp since the bathroom. But, neither did the overwhelming information that swirls your mind afterwards. Paralysing yourself to live day to day, without missing a beat. Constantly riding shotgun in your own vehicle, with one hand on the steering wheel, not knowing if you might swerve out one day, and that would be the end of it all.

The aching soreness in your lower back grows dull as you try to shift to lessen the pain, and groggy eyes flutter open with a few blinks to focus and expose the creme walls of your living room. You don't remember dosing off on the couch or turning off the tv. The blankets have been pulled up to your chin and a comforting heat still radiates in the palm of your hand. You gave his hand a quick squeeze and gently nudged him.

"Hey, Jakey. Wake up!" you softly called.

A weary grunted and whined in response, returning himself to dreamland again.

You called, again. "C'mon, Jake! Wake up!"

"What?" he groaned, drowsy olive eyes now just peering at you. "What do you want?"

You sat up, beaming brighter than the sun that was beginning to rise through the horizon. "Do you trust me?"

He frowns, brows knitted tightly together and fear what you are going to say next. "I do. But, you asking me that first thing in the morning makes it seem more suspicious."

"Good." You nodded once, "Then, get up and get changed. We're going out."

Windows rolled down to let the summer air into your matchbox car, and the fabric of your cotton t-shirt clings to your body in this sticky humidity. Wild strands of hair fly freely from your loosely tied bun, reflecting a golden hue from the chromatic sunrise. But, not everyone is enjoying a brief moment of ethereal bliss. The battered blonde pilot; in his ever-so-dark sunglasses, masking his fatigue, annoyance, and everything in between— force captured in the passenger seat.

The car shrieked as you pulled into the parking lot, just facing a brick red duplex that's more like a mansion. The place is adorned with wildflowers and ample bushes, and fancy, vintage roof trimmings that you could probably never afford. You smile gleefully to yourself, admiring the building that you consider to be your second home.

"Where are we?" Jake finally spoke.

Your face radiated, the edges of your eyes creased and holding that smile for seconds too long made anybody fear their life.

"This is my workplace." Your singsong voice answered.

He scoffs. "So you took me to work? The one thing I can't do right now? If I wanna work I would just go back to Top Gun, but, newsflash! I can't!"

"It's less about work and more about helping around here. Plus, today is something like 'Take your son or daughter to work' Day, and it just so happens that I have an overgrown toddler living with me. And I can't leave them alone at home."

The mocking pout on your face made Jake hiss in unsatisfactory, biting back what he had to say and just going with the flow.

"It's going to be alright! We have something that could make your movement easier," you reassured him.

When you stated something along the lines of assisting his movement, Jake was imagining something more like a wheelchair that's practical and you could possibly push him around the block. But, what was waiting for him was less of a wheelchair, and more like a chair with wheels attached to it. Talk about surprises.

Jake stood his ground for a solid 10 minutes, initiating a stare-off with you, not uttering a word but clearly infuriated with the choice of option— the only one— displayed in front of him. And you, wearing a cocky grin that looks a tad too good on you, arm resting against the back of the black mesh office chair with one upraised brow.

What choice does he have? Drive back to your place? He doesn't have the keys, nor can he drive at the moment. Sulk his way through the day by just standing in the lobby? The cast around his leg is uncomfortable as it is, can't even scratch an itch, not to mention the crutch is barely any help at all.

The deadpan expression is carved permanently on his face, but the giddy excitement bubbles as you witness him excuse himself on the chair, surrendering off his mighty high horse.

"Doesn't feel good to be on the receiving end now does it, Seresin?"

"Shut up."

The plastic wheels rumbled along the hardwood floors, with occasional bumps that earned a grunt from Jake when running over the door sills. Your manager is kind enough to understand the sudden addition but is still grateful for the extra help they could get around the place. There, through the double barn doors, reside rows of cages as a temporary home for these helpless creatures. Some yaps at the sight of you, and some whine to procure any attention.

At the end of the long hallway, here you stopped and unbolted the lock with a clunk to the transparent door that's housing a german shepherd. Fur shining in beautiful sandy hues and shawled with a coat of black. Its sullen eyes soften the moment it sees you, tail wagging like a metronome.

"This baby boy here is Captain." you scritch the floof between those perked-up ears. "He was found with his hind legs broken and fending off another stray dog. The vet informed us that there were low chances that he could run again, ever.

He leans further into your touch, licking the hand that's patting his head. "In the beginning, he was defensive and wouldn't let anyone go near him. Even in therapy, he refuses to move or gives himself the chance to run again. But, I never gave up on him. I stuck with him through it all, and he did take it. He took that chance through me." You turn to face Jake, gaze gleaming with assurance and hope.

"Is that what I'm supposed to do? Go ask for help?" He swallows, voice filled with uncertainty.

You solemnly return a smile. "That's up to you, Jackal. You don't have to do this alone. There are people that are willing to listen. I'm willing to listen if you're ready to talk."

Jake's eyes flicker to the floor for a fleeting moment, contemplating. Then peers up to observe the dog, mouth muttering something too quiet for you to perceive.

"But! This isn't the point of me bringing you here today," you exclaim. "Your mission today, Lieutenant, is to take the dogs out for their field day. And this little baby right here is your wingman for the day." You squint your eyes, catching a glimpse of something. "You guys look quite similar when you're side by side."

The pilot and his temporary wingman frown.

Field day is a special day for pets. It’s one of the grand activities arranged for the pets to have fun, as well as dressing them up for their new adoption pictures. The noises of barking and panting are scattered around the luscious green yard, as various sizes of pups are excited to interact with one another.

However, your eyes tether towards the other side of the field. There are currently two being just blandly observing the situation. A Lieutenant and his Captain. Awkwardly hiding underneath the shades of the blooming oak tree. You shake your head. Maybe if you give them a little more time, they’ll warm up to each other.

Jake crossed his arms in his best effort, brooding in the cool shadows cast by the leaves that slowly merged with him. He cared not for this field day thing, but he cared enough about you to know this was important to you. If he participates in some way that could make you happy, that's the least he can do.

He sighs and whips his head around to find Captain immersed himself gnawing on a lime green, worn-out ball. Enjoying the fact there isn't a single intrusive thought inside that little head of his.

"Look at you, it must be nice being you. Not a care in the world and having somebody that loves you."

Jake's gaze draws back to you, frolicking around with dogs following your trail, laughing as brightly as a shining star and he can't help but be infected by your smile. He knows he has a bad habit of making you mad, but he always finds you cute when you're angry. With your deadly glares and the crease in your brows, he knows he got your full attention. But your smile also takes up an entirely new feeling. Like walking down a sunny country path, hand grazing along the overgrown grass. He noticed. How your lips were drawn to a thin line when you smile, cheeks pinched together and made way for a dimple, eyes always glimmer with a bright shine when you're interested in something.

"And yet, she doesn't know. Probably never will," he mutters.

Captain whines and pitifully looks at him.

"Don't give me that look."

Captains tamper the soil a few times before dropping the ball in Jake's lap, waiting expectantly.

"Oh, I don't need your pity party."

He launches the ball across the field which sets Captain bolting, eyes locked on to the acquired target and retrieving the object back to the Lieutenant. Dropping the ball on his lap once more, excitement coursing through his tiny, furry brain, fanning his own tail.

The green ball gripped tightly in his hand as he shakes his head. "I'm not doing this."

The poor pup’s ears droop and the tail comes to a halt, pleading with his puppy dog eyes.

“The answer is no.” He casually tossed the ball aside, but the littlest commotion still sends Captain to a running sprint after his favourite toy. “Ah, fuck.”

You look up just in time to witness Jake rowing away with his crutch as a paddle on land. His action sends Captain into a delighted frenzy as his large doggy paws hop after Jake attempts to escape. You chuckled, reaching a hand to your back pocket and fishing out your phone. The screen encapsulates the playful scenery, and with a touch of a button, the shutter freeze frame of this beautiful memory. A memento that holds dear to you as your new phone screen.

A/n: If Jake was a dog, what type of dog would he be?

#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #tg fic #tgm fic #⭐️.doc #nobody reads the tags but next chapter is the final chapter( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

162 notes · View notes

canyouhearthelight · 2 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 203

I haven’t gotten a chance to have these two argue for quite some time... Overall, it was a blast in the end. As always, thanks go to @baelpenrose for beta reading, especially since this chapter wasn’t exactly smooth to write, no matter how the finished product turned out.

Reader shout outs this week: @thelorg and @crazyotakufanluv23. I always like when those new names pop up ;).

Despite knowing it had only been three minutes since the last time, I flipped open my datapad to check the time. Xiomara wasn’t late, per se, but I had somewhat expected her to be here by now. Granted, we weren’t meeting in one of our offices like usual, and were roughly ten decks from hers, but the urgency was implied.

At least, I hoped a message that just said to meet me here to discuss “what Charly’s done” would imply urgency.

“What did she do now!?” a stern voice came over my shoulder, making me jump. Turning, I saw Xio standing, a thin veneer of sweat from clearly having run flat out, hands on her hips. “I was in the Archive, or I would have been here sooner.”

Oh. “We can talk about it in here,” I answered, tipping my head toward the hatch that was barely visible.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and I could only imagine what she thought I was about to tell her if it required this room. Nonetheless, she went ahead of me into the maintenance shaft and confidently marched until her feet left the deck. Years ago, I had been envious of how gracefully she adapted to the freefall found here in the balance point of the Ark, but thankfully my training had at least fixed that.

Her movements were small and precise as she turned to face me. “Now. What did Charly do this time? How bad is it? Did she somehow piss off some space pandas?”

The mental image made me snort. “Nothing even remotely that bad. She managed to spec out and engineer a suspension exoskeleton for Teeth. It can even be adjusted to let them do physical therapy under what basically amounts to spot gravity, which means they can get out of the medbay for at least part of the day.”

“You called me up here on my day off for THAT!?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a matter of security.”

“That could have waited until Monday?”

“Charly is willing to share the specs with the Council with one caveat and it’s a firm one, so I figured it was worth interrupting your free time.” Sort of. I mean, it was part of the reason I sent her the meeting. That wasn’t entirely lying, right?

Xiomara closed her eyes with a huge sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. Without a word, she rolled her wrist in a “get on with it” gesture.

“We can’t militarize the exo. Ever. Can’t even make one for peacekeeping purposes, or base one off the design. She was pretty strict about that. For construction and therapeutic purposes, only.”

That got her eyes to snap open. “You’re kidding, right?”

Shaking my head sent me into a slow spin, but I forced myself to stare ahead as the room seemed to float around me. “Dead serious. Otherwise, she keeps the design and will personally use you to sue the absolute crap out of anyone who uses it without a very lengthy contract, which she will also use you to right.”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll draw up the contract to put before the Council, and let her approve all provisions before I even present it. What was her plan if I had said no?”

Finally, I was facing her again. Silently taking the arm she was holding out to stop my spin, I shrugged. “She’s the foster mother to the heir apparent of the Squid Queen. I tried not to ask.”

Swiping a hand down her face roughly, she muttered. “The Eldritch abomination jokes have entered reality, sure, why not? They are now a plausible threat.” Rolling her neck to re-focus herself, she scowled at me. “At least she didn’t start a war. I probably spent half the run up to this level expecting you to tell me that she somehow issued a challenge to the Eko-mari for dueling pistols at twenty paces over Noah’s civil rights or something.”

My eyes widened and I swallowed thickly.

“Oh, come ON! There’s no way - “

“Miys wants to defect.”

My blurted statement left Xiomara gaping like a fish. The last time I had seen her so caught off guard, it involved Parvati and a lot of vodka, but this definitely wasn’t a happy gape. “How - what? How did she - “

I cut off her sputtering. “It wasn’t Charly. It was me. Sort of.” Hurriedly, I rushed out an explanation. “They spoke to me in quarters a week ago, which was weird enough, and suggested I take up mycology? But then they suggested something with the crops that just didn’t sound right, and when Conor was home, they actually showed up, and explained that they wanted to move down to the planet with us and really heavily implied they will suicide if we don’t because they know what the Geecee is doing and - “

We went careening when she grabbed my shoulders and shook me gently. “Breathe. Please. If you suffocate in here, I don’t want to explain it to… well, anyone. Just a bad idea all the way around.”

“They wanna come with us,” I stated lamely. “That’s the real reason I wanted you to come down - up, whatever - here. I just said Charly did something because I knew you wouldn’t even think to try to postpone it.”

“Eyeah. Good call,” she admitted tersely. “I want to say you could have used literally anything else, but there’s no chance it would have worked like that did.”

“And it needed to be something you would think was really bad for you to come here, and not your office, yeah.”

“I think this qualifies.” Gently pushing us back to the center of the room, she closed her eyes in thought for a moment. “Where is Conor hiding the test data?”

“I can’t - how the hell did you figure that out so fast?” I was so confused. I mean, she was right, but I was really confused how she figured that out.

Thankfully, she spoke slowly. “You mentioned Conor. If he heard this, there isn’t any scenario I can imagine where your botanically minded golden retriever of a partner isn’t trying to figure out how to make it work. Which means tests, which means test data. It has to be stored somewhere.”

I nodded, following along. “No.”

“No he isn’t helping, or no he isn’t storing data…?”

“No, I’m not telling you the answers to any of that.”

Her eyes hardened quickly, and I was grateful that my trembling didn’t show in zero gee - there was no chance of an altercation ending in her not kicking my ass, but it would at least take a while. Well, longer than it would have six years ago, anyway. “I’m the Councilor in charge of Safety and Security. There is no way this doesn’t fall under my jurisdiction. You are over Resources and Engagement. It is decidedly not under your purview.”

“I’m also not required, in any jurisdiction, to testify against myself,” I pointed out while straightening my spine. “I’m also not required to make you an accomplice.”

Her head shook slightly, but a smirk also briefly flashed on her face. “Accomplice to what, exactly?”

“If Miys does join us on Von, with our knowledge, and specifically with our help?” I started ticking charges off on my fingers. “Sedition, kidnapping, and theft under human law. Treason, kidnapping, war crimes, and civil rights violations under Hujylsogox law. Along with their restrictions against whole-being murder, violation of several relocation conventions, and it would also mean that Noah would be on trial for desertion, theft, and potential genocide if our relocation doesn’t work out.”

“They would try us for kidnapping Noah, and Noah for desertion?”

“Mm hmm. Funny laws happen with hive minds, apparently.”

Another sigh. “Still, it’s my job. Not yours.”

Poor, poor Xiomara. “As you pointed out, your job is Safety and Security - for ten thousand humans. You have exactly one person who can replace you in the event you are put on trial, and she would be implicated just by association.” I stretched an arm out to set myself into a spin again, this time on purpose so I wouldn’t have to see her face at my next statement.

“Also to your point, I’m just a glorified HR department. Kind of like the head of the merchant’s council rolled into the census bureau and employment office. I also have two replacements, three in a pinch, and in a really bad pinch, the Council can split up the duties of my office until someone can be trained or appointed. A determined hamster could do my job. Not well, but still.”

No one in the galaxy or this reality could fall on a sword like a Reid.

“So you really aren’t going to tell me what was decided.”

“Nope. So you now are aware that it might happen, and if we’re found out, you can chuck me and Conor under the bus while you drive it.” My heart felt like I had stabbed it with a blunt object when I acknowledged that my earlier rambling had implicated Conor, but my brain reminded me that even if he hadn’t known, he would have thrown himself under there with me. Maverick still might, if it came down to it. “But I had to make sure you weren’t caught off guard if anything does happen and ends up going south. You’re my friend first, coworker second, and I couldn’t live with myself without filling you in.”

If Xio said anything, it didn’t make it past the rush of blood in my ears as my heart pounded. Without another word, I kicked a leg out to bring me back toward the gravity well, walking away as calmly as possible.

Right now, a heavy bag sounded like a good idea.

<<Prev Masterlist Next>>

#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing #my writing

35 notes · View notes

slimeshelf99 · 2 years

Text

Seven Causes Folks Chortle About Your Shower Head With Detachable Hose

youtube

The most obvious good thing about aromatherapy is that it could actually enable you to to relax. Whether or not you need something to help in relieving your aching legs after being in your ft all day, one thing to calm you down, or something to clear your sinuses, aromatherapy may help with out having to take treatment. Well, since https://hydrojetpowerwasher.com/fr/produit/high-pressure-garden-hose-nozzle-set/ of water is unfold so large, the water can come out form of limp from a Wall Mount Shower Arm. A shower pump is designed to extend the water pressure in your pipes, but in the case of performance that isn't the one thing you should look for. With the Moen 1222 you cannot management how a lot water comes out of the shower valve. The water will peacefully fall on your head and shoulders, caressing your skin, massaging your muscles and serving to you release a lot of the accumulated tension. Pouring buckets and buckets of water over your canine just isn't only impractical, however it may put quite a lot of pressure in your again. Because they generate their own scorching water they’re normally the shower of selection for households the place hot water created by the boiler is in brief supply.

Shower Head At Lowes

Often, a easy possibility is to install a shower or complete home pump to your system. With the simple change of the valve, you can simply change between both the fixed or handheld shower head in your comfort. For pet house owners with massive canine or squirmy little ones, a simple bath can quickly turn into a messy ordeal. Pet homeowners love their furry buddies - they’re actually part of the household! It is also a enjoyable family exercise, particularly in case you have young youngsters who would love enjoying together with your pet in the soapy bubbles. Keep reading to learn to make bathing your pet simpler and cheaper with a canine shower head. Bathing your canine in your individual shower can prevent as much as $90 monthly and provide enjoyable recollections with your pet. Shower head attachments connect directly to your existing shower, making it simple to manage the stream of water, so you possibly can direct the water stream on your pup and away from your clothes! With its blue foam, Kaboom works on contact to dissolve soap scum and arduous water stains and it's easy to see where you've really cleaned.

5. Rinse and dry: One of the best approach to avoid soap scum and other dirt and grime? This system is usually greatest suited to power or electric showers, although if you have good-enough water stress then you would use a mixer shower. So, here are 5 suggestions that may get you on the quick-monitor to discovering the most effective Rain Shower Head for you! My most popular manufacturers, which I've personally used for years, are Plant Therapy and Mountain Rose Herbs. Lately, Chrome has grow to be the go-to finish for modern design. That is why it is so important that you establish which Moen shower valve you have before buying any substitute components. One thing that I have observed is that prospects are nonetheless buying fastened shower heads at a a lot sooner fee than the hand held shower heads. The pair of themed shower heads solely differ in that Darth has a handle to detach and spray simpler, whereas the R2D2 mannequin is fastened onto the shower's faucet. An extended shower will take around 50 gallons of water, so try going lower than that.

High Pressure Shower Head For Low Water Pressure

Clearly, the higher your ceiling the longer the shower arm you may need so that you get the rainfall shower head within a couple of feet from your head. This selection is nice when you don’t have house for a bath and a standalone shower, however you want the flexibleness of each. From helping allergy sufferers to breathe a little bit simpler to make the world scent wonderfully calming, shower aromatherapy is a good different to a visit to the spa. Even in case your canine stays indoors, you in all probability guide them a bath every time they start to scent. Your dog will love this half because it acts like a mini dog massage. 15 October 2019. Focus on the bottom the place the holes are; this is where essentially the most mineral buildup will probably be. Mineral tank is washed by the brine solution8. 1. If the diverter valve has mineral waste on it as a consequence of exhausting water, you want to scrub it with, you’ve guessed it - white vinegar. In order for you to save lots of even more water, you will discover fashions that solely use two gallons per minute.

#high pressure hose nozzle #hose nozzle #high pressure nozzle

1 note · View note

falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Bad Dreams - Bucky Barnes x Avenger (f)reader

Summary: You and Bucky are adjusting to civilian life after the Blip, some nights he needs you more then he realizes.

Warning: bit o angst, soft Bucky, fluff

Masterlist

It had been a long fucking five years alone, sure you had Nat and Steve around at the Avengers Facility. But no matter how much time you spent with them doing whatever to keep your mind busy, at the end of the day, you were undoubtedly alone. You liked it that way at one point in your complicated life as an Avenger, but after the blip, you absolutely despised it.

No one had expected what would have happened to be so terrible and tragic, or it to even go the way that it did. You had never even heard of Thanos or what the fuck kind of weirdass monsters could exist from other parts of the galaxy until they showed up knocking. How rude huh.

Life was peaceful before hand, well for the most part; you were an Avenger, someone who was part of the team. A conjurer of flame and ash, a Phoenix held within that was not afraid to use your power, and you used it well.

Then as per usual, shit went down and low and behold you met the one and only James Buchanan Barnes, Steve’s old friend with the metal arm and troubling history. Not to mention a face to die for, or at least one that would cause a bit of a chaotic scuffle between your two friends. They clearly had other priorities apart from yours at the time which was keep Steve out of jail, don’t burn anyone, and refrain from flirting with his 90 something year old friend. You tried your best in most of those areas. Most of them.

Nonetheless, you fell hard and fast for the blue eyed man, and him the same for you, his feisty little firecracker with a heart as big and bright as a dragons. So when he went to Wakanda to lie low and get some much needed help. You followed.

With a heartfelt goodbye and a lasting kiss, he went under for a couple long weeks until Shuri and her expert team of scientists were able to fix what those bastards at Hydra had done to him.

For a short yet blessedly peaceful amount of time did you and your dark haired lover live safely within the Wakandan borders. In a small and beautiful little village by a lake, a hut all your own to shelter you from the heat and rain that poured hard onto the earth, and most wonderfully of all you had Bucky.

Life was simple for the first time in a long time, you spent the days helping out the locals and teaching the children how to properly swing a stick in defense, you know completely normal leisure activities. Spending the evenings making a big fire to tell stories under and cook the best food in Wakanda.

And the nights? You spent those wrapped up in Bucky’s arm, although most times you would be the big spoon which he loved more then anything in the whole world. Telling you it’s not just because you’re naturally warm, but that he’s been admittedly a bit touch starved from the years alone and lost. And for that you would always hold him closer.

Then that fateful day came crashing into your lives like a waterfall against rock, your friends had shown up claiming some being called Thanos was coming to take a stone out of Vision’s head. Yeah that was a new one.

The battle wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either, you were able to save many lives by scorching the beasts that pursed onward. Letting whips of flame slash hard against the enemy with great skill and force from your bending. Then the world seemed to still, and the wind swayed the trees oddly.

Then HE came, the Titan from another world, he threw down all in his path without an ounce of mercy or remorse. You and Wanda were so close, so damn close to stopping him, but then he threw you back with the whole force of the gauntlet and a moment later Vision was dead.

Your head was bleeding and a fresh scar had marked your jaw in a bloody red slash from the impact. Though your mind didn’t have time to register nor care as Thanos abruptly disappeared into oblivion, leaving a confused Thor in his wake. Much like the rest of the Avengers.

Then to your horror, one by one, your friends began to turn to ash and dust. Gone. You raced for Bucky nearby, praying to who’d ever listen to spare him or you for that matter. You just needed ten more seconds and then you could have held him one last time, touched his precious skin, ran your fingers through his long dark locks.

Looked into his ocean blue eyes, but no, the universe laughed as you gasped in panic, then it snickered as you screamed. Cheering you on as you sobbed in a cyclone of your own fire until the ground was scorched to shriveled dry earth. And no more tears could fall, your throat raw and heart broken in two.

Your world was gone, a memory forever kept locked inside your heart and soul. He was gone, he was your world, Bucky made your life better and you his.

For the coming months you were a mess, an angry and frustrated wreck of a person. Functioning by sheer will power and Natasha to keep you afloat in your new dreary little world of nothingness. You envied Steve for his ability to keep most of his shit together, and where almost enraged by Tony who had everything still intact. Pepper and a child on the way, how cruel the universe appeared.

You would wake up in the middle of the night sweating, your heart racing a mile a minute and usually part of the wall behind you would be burnt and blackened. You never set fire to anything thank god, but fuck, your heart hurt so much.

You wanted to scream most days, but as one year rolled into two and then three, the dull dreary ache in your body subdued to a tiny flicker of sadness. It became almost nonexistent during the day as you went about Avenger business, only to burn hot and angry at night.

You wanted to move on and forget, but you couldn’t, he was too important. They all didn’t deserve to go like that, none of them. And so another year passed, then it was year five since the blip, more months passed on. Until out of nowhere something or perhaps someone miraculous lit the way into a new sense of hope.

Resulting in the return of everyone who had been lost before, including your Bucky. And from that moment after the battle, when at long last you had finally found him, you knew life would never be the same.

——

Rain pours relentlessly from outside your apartment window, a rhythmic pitter patter near your bedside that aids in keeping you asleep and unbothered for the time being. No sooner do you reach the climax of your dream that consists of you being chased by a giant monarch butterfly with no weapon but a sandbox plastic shovel, do you wake. Strange dream.

All your senses flooding back into you as you feel for your lover in the darkness, your eyes still closed as you do so. Your hand slides across the crinkled bedsheets to no avail, the spot next to you is undeniably empty and rather cold.

oh, Bucky.

Cracking one eye open you glance at the alarm clock where it reads 1:10am in big red letters, illuminating the nightstand that it sits on. You take in a deep breath and roll onto your back to stare up at the ceiling, this has become a reoccurring event with Bucky in the following months since his return.

In Wakanda things were different, it was like a nice prolonged vacation away from all your problems and responsibilities of the world. Now, you two have an apartment somewhere in New York City all your own. Bucky goes to therapy and does his best to integrate back into his new role as a civilian while you work as an Avenger part time. The other half used for being a supporting loving girlfriend to Bucky and a hacker on the side for extra cash in the bank.

You get it though, he’s adjusting the best he’s able to manage right now, and even when he swears the nightmares are gone for good. You know him too well to believe that shit, you can see it in his eyes, he may have been a master assassin at one point. Now he’s with a skilled and almost equally as weathered Avenger who’s seen her share of people really going through it.

It’s not like you were doing any better, you’d wake up screaming in the dead of night from another nightmare involving losing Bucky again. That only lasted for a month or so, but still, it sucked and hurt every damn time. So you get it, nightmares can be a bitch.

Blinking the bleariness out of your eyes, you yawn into the darkness and take a moment to listen to the sound of the rain. It’s peaceful and calm, and though you’d like nothing more then to roll over and fall back into the dark comfortable void of sleep. You long to see Bucky again, even if you saw him not even two hours ago.

Pulling the blanket off of your body, you slowly sit up and face the blurry window that overlooks the glowing city, well more so the park close by. Pushing some hair out of your face, you stand and take a brief moment to stretch before letting your right hand emit a beautiful blue flame.

It proptly lights up the dark room into a shadowed yet still visible one, with a lazy proud smile, you move for the opened bedroom door. Your flame lights the way down the hall until you wander past the tiny kitchen and stop in your living room to the sound of heavy breathing coming from the far end.

You give a lopsided smirk to no one in particular as you pad over to the man who’s sweaty and shirtless on the wooden apartment floor in nothing but his boxers and a single blanket that’s not covering much. Well he sure looks like a hot mess, your hot mess that is.

He gives you an apologetic glance before staring tiredly back at the nearby wall. You extinguish your flame and gently nudge his leg with your sock, “How’s the floor?” You ask with a tinge of humor to lighten the mood.

He lets out a breathy laugh before looking back up at you, “Solid.” Quips Bucky in reference to the hard floor and perhaps his take on the makeshift bed, always one for a bit of humor huh.

Chuckling you crouch down to better meet his shadowed gaze, “I guess so,” You mutter with a shrug, “....afraid I might burn you in my sleep?”

Shaking his head, he gifts you the flash of a smile, “No. Not this time Y/N.”

You smile back before sitting down next to him, you look down at his hand before reaching out to take it without any resistance, “I know it’s the nightmares Bucky.” You whisper softly, your eyes sincere and true, “You don’t have to hold it all in okay, I don’t.....I don’t want you to do that.”

Letting out a reluctant sigh, Bucky frowns, “I know Y/N....I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I just love you too much to see you hurting. I’ve missed you for what feels like a hundred goddamn years and I don’t want you to slip away from me..” You add with a sad smile, “Never again.”

Squeezing your hand gently, Bucky nods, “You’re not going to lose me okay. I promise you that much alright. I love you Y/N.” And he means every word.

“That’s good then. Can you at least tell me something to ease your mind from what’s bothering you?” You ask with a hopeful smile, “Please. Remember what the therapist talked about with speaking your thoughts and feelings....it’s like emptying a treasure chest or some shit.”

“Right.” Laughs Bucky, “Can’t say you’re going to find any gold in here.”

“Shut up I don’t care.” You muse with a shrug, “I’m here to listen.”

“As the lady wishes.” Retorts Bucky with a half-assed bow that caused you to break out into a small smile at his cheekiness.

“Wait.” You pause.

“What?”

“Can we sit on the couch for this I wanna lay next to you.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky fakes his annoyance as you patiently await his answer, “Fine.” He confirms, quickly standing up and taking you with him, “But you gotta lay on me I’m kinda cold now.”

Bucky falls onto the large comfortable couch with a dramatic huff as he pulls you onto his shirtless body, “Weren’t you just all sweaty?” You wonder with a raised brow as he quickly wraps his arms around your waist.

“Yep.”

“Gross.”

Bucky chuckles, “Well you’re making me talk about my feelings.”

“That’s because you won’t talk about them with your actual therapist.” You sass back.

“I hate it when you’re right.” Mutters Bucky into your cheek as you snicker at his adorably dramatic self.

“I think your brain short circuited and misplaced the word hate for absolutely love and adore.”

“Maybe.” Adds Bucky as he steals a sweet kiss, “I’m still working through things you know.”

“Okay smartass. Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

His chest rises as he takes a deep heavy sigh, he stares out the nearby window that keeps the rainy city from being bothersome. You can’t completely see his face due to the darkened room, but you’re close enough to see the way his face turns into a frown.

Suddenly you think maybe you shouldn’t have bugged him to speak about his nightmares. Until he purses his lips together and glances those big beautiful blue eyes down at you, the flash of a smile revealing itself in a split second.

To give him a bit more confidence and perhaps to calm his nerves, do you reach a hand up to gently caress his stubbled cheek, “Was it the Starks again?” You whisper softly in question, knowing how much it still haunts him. Among all the others.

Closing his eyes, he leans into your touch, “Not this time.” Mutters Bucky before taking that hand in his as he rests his head against the couches puffy arm. “Someone else.....Someone who got in the way. Wrong place wrong time.”

“oh.” Slips from your mouth quietly, you’re not sure what else to say, but you’re still hoping he’ll speak a little more about it. “Do they have anything to do with your list?”

It’s a shot in the dark, but you’re well aware of Bucky’s goal to make amends with his past and the people tied with it, maybe someone might be linked to it by chance.

Bucky takes another weighted breath, you can just sense how terrible he feels about this person. “Bucky take your time, it’s okay I’m right here.”

Looking for a positive sign you watch as he closes his eyes once again before moving his head a little bit so that it rests against yours, “I know....it’s just, difficult.”

“Always is.”

“Yeah.”

Kissing your forehead, his flesh arm wraps around your waist as he makes himself more comfortable before continuing, “I was in some government building at night.....tasked with eliminating some special high end target. I finished the mission in under a minute, but uh....there was a civilian who saw everything.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.” Mumbles Bucky against your skin as he takes a moment to gather himself, soon he shifts underneath you once more before letting out a soft breath, “I shot him.”

A bang of sadness washes over you in that brief second and then a sparking anger for what Hydra had forced him to do. You keep silent and wait for Bucky to continue on with his story.

“That guy I killed. He um....he uh, he didn’t deserve that....but I had to.” Bucky’s voice is shaky as he puts his words together, “And you know what’s the worst about this?”

“I’d like not to imagine it but I know you should tell me.”

“You remember Yori?”

“Of course, he takes us to that great sushi place sometimes.”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut as he hugs you tighter against his bare chest for some kind of comfort, his voice nothing but a regretful whisper, “I killed his son.”

Your eyes soften as he reveals who this mystery civilian was, “Damn.”

“Out of all the people in this world and I meet the man who’s son I murdered for Hydra.”

“That’s almost a sick joke.”

“I know. God I’m so fucked up.”

“No.” You protest softly while he hides his face in your neck, “I know you’ve heard this a thousand times but that wasn’t you. It wasn’t the real James Buchanan Barnes alright, you didn’t have a choice. Those fuckers took that away from you.”

“I know Y/N, but I still did it.”

“Bucky look at me.” You ask kindly, to your genuine surprise he lifts his head from your neck to look into your determined gaze, “You’re not the only one here who was manipulated and had their freedom taken from them by Hydra. I’ve done terrible things too, but you know what? We were never truly ourselves then, they molded us into their weapons and now.....they can never touch us again. You understand me?”

Tears whell up in Bucky’s shimmering eyes at your truthfully honest words, he had temporarily forgotten that you were once an unwilling participant in Hydra’s mind stone experimentations many years ago.

“I understand....” Mutters Bucky as he swallows hard, “what would I be without you?”

Giving him a small tearful smile, you gently wipe away a stray tear from his cheek, “A little bit more alone I’d say.”

“You’re a hundred times braver then me you know that? I couldn’t image five years without you and these fucking nightmares.” Admits Bucky as he moves to rest his head in the crook of your neck, “I’d go insane.”

Appreciating this close proximity and his heartfelt confession, you smile into the darkness, “I think I did. Thing is about shitty situations like that....life moves on and finds a way. I have you now, I thought I would lose you forever.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me too.”

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #Bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

486 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 2 years

Text

wip wednesday

from part 2 of my 2.04 coda/fix-it will you take my hand? hopefully it will be finished this weekend! as long as my booster jab doesn't take me out

It’s days spent in a hospital bed, suffering through breathing treatments and constant monitoring by the nurses. It’s hours of shuffling around the corridors of West Park’s cardiac unit, his cheeks burning with shame when he can barely manage five minutes before giving in. It’s physical therapy and conversations with doctors and staring down the barrel of an as-yet unknown length of medical leave.

But, eventually, TK gets to go home.

And it is—home. His throw blanket rests on the back of an armchair, his recently restored hoodie collection is folded away in the drawers, and his exercise bike, which Carlos knows he barely uses, is right there, in the middle of their dining room.

The last time TK was in this place was when he was turning his back on it and walking out, yet, somehow, Carlos has managed to make it into a home for both of them.

So, when Carlos presses a key into his hand this time, it feels less like a move in with me, and more like a welcome home.

“Thank you,” he whispers that night when they’re curled up in bed together for the first time in months. “You didn’t have to… Any of this… What I did…”

He can’t find the words, exhaustion and lingering brain fog keeping them just out of reach, but time and distance clearly haven’t taken away their ability to understand each other.

“I didn’t,” Carlos agrees. He pulls him closer, and TK doesn’t miss the way one of Carlos’s hands is resting right above his heart. “But I wanted to.”

TK sighs and closes his eyes, turning his head to press a small kiss to the inside of Carlos’s arm. “Me too.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #writing stuff #wip wednesday

27 notes · View notes

onlyherefortheshowmances · 3 years

Text

So I saw someone else get an anon message that said: “I hate to admit this, but I really can't shake the feeling that Benji loves Victor more than Victor loves Benji at this point.” I wanted to respond as well, because I think this is something people are probably seeing a lot and I really want to explain how I’m looking at it (from personal experience and just from looking at and examining the characters).

CW/TW: Mental Health, suicidal ideation/action mention, Addiction, Emotional Trauma, sex mention, Predatory relationship mention, catholicism, homophobia, misunderstandings, lack of communication, spoilers for love victor seasons 1 & 2 [let me know if I missed anything please]

I want to be frank in saying that Benji is my favorite character and I project onto him a lot (along with seeing a lot of myself in him). I’m also white AF, so I’m sure some of you think that’s relevant, but I really don’t think it is in this particular case. I do also however identify with Victor in a number of ways and I am trying to see the characters both as complex individuals with deep personal histories. Both have suffered traumas and both are clearly dealing with a lot of their own shit on top of being sixteen/seventeen and dealing with junior year of high school and all the pressures and expectations that brings for everyone.

I think what people are interpreting at loving someone more/less is actually about prioritizing someone/a relationship more/less. In my mind, from what I see on screen and interpret, they both love each other beyond words. They are both very much in love with one another. It comes down to how they display that to each other and to the public as well as where on their list of priorities this relationship falls.

Let’s start with Victor, struggles and life:

He is dealing with internalized homophobia and associated thought-patterns stemming from his upbringing in the Catholic church as well from the vocalized homophobic remarks from his mother (toward himself and Benji as well as likely at other points in his life toward strangers), his father (stating that he hopes Adrian doesn’t turn out ‘like that’; the scene in S1 where they’re at the church in Texas and he calls the hairdresser ‘flojito’; etc.), and his grandparents (on his birthday and likely at other points in his life). As a result of this, Victor tried to make himself straight (or at least interested in a girl) by dating Mia because he did like her as a person and everyone was telling him that’s what he was supposed to do. He ended up hurting her and almost losing her friendship (temporarily, he did, but she does seem to have forgiven him now).

He is dealing with outside homophobia as well. That kid on the very first day he was Creekwood responding to Benji helping him up. Felix’s comment that same day of ‘you don’t want to give people the wrong idea.’ The basketball team/gym class guys roasting him about not hooking up with Mia on the ferris wheel. Felix saying he’d be crazy to not like Mia. Lake asking ‘are you gay or something’ when he brought Felix along to Mia’s house, etc., etc. Some of these things may seem innocent enough, but they weren’t. Not to Victor who was already struggling to accept even the possibility that he might be gay. Once he managed to come out to his parents, obviously his father got better fairly quickly, but Isabel continued to struggle for six months which put even more pressure on Victor to try to lead this double life. Once he came out at school, the whole fiasco with the basketball team also occurred and that was a lot for him, because Basketball as always his safe-space. It’s where he went to get away from all the other pressure. It was something he didn’t have to think about and now suddenly, he did. Those pressure are also affecting his ability to think about what he may want and it seems affecting his ability to think (at all sometimes) about how any of that is also affecting Benji. It’s affecting him so much that he’s basically blind to how it’s also affecting Benji to see him suffer. He doesn’t even consider that possibility until Felix brings up how hard it is for him the night Felix breaks up with Lake and Venji get caught having sex.

Victor also has struggles away from just his coming out and accepting himself journey. He has the struggles associated with his parents separation. Until fairly recently, Victor always thought his parents had a perfect relationship. He saw that as the ideal. Get together in High School, get married right away, stay together for ever, happily ever after. That’s what he was raised to expect. And now he’s seeing their relationship fall apart before his eyes. Hell, his devoutly Catholic mother had an affair, and he’s wondering if it’s really possible for your first love to be your only love especially after he and Benji start butting heads, so he’s already vulnerable to that viewpoint when Rahim brings up the possibility. He gets so lost in what’s happening to his parents and what Rahim is saying about it not usually working out that he forgets how in love he is and he sort of loses his will to fight for what he wants, because maybe it’s just doomed to fail anyway (until he sees Benji at the wedding and it sort of hits again - and then Felix’s speech thereafter, obviously). He kind of loses his way by getting caught up in the statistic improbability of your first love being the one and watching his parents’ marriage potentially fall apart and he wonders for a moment if it might be easier, if it might be better to just walk away and go toward Rahim who he seem to get along with and seems to understand the things Benji doesn’t about him, but what he fails to examine in that moment is that he’s only barely scratched the surface with Rahim and that Rahim doesn’t know him like Benji does and that every relationship has it’s ups and downs and what it always comes down to is how willing both parties are to work to make things right. How much you’re willing to step into the other person’s shoes and try to understand. In my opinion, even if he were to walk away from Benji and go to Rahim, that bubble of understanding isn’t going to last forever either. He’s failing to remember that when he got together with Benji (and for most of the summer it seems) that’s exactly what it was like and failing to remember that they have grown beyond that into a deep soul-altering love for one another that deserves his time, energy, and effort and NEEDS those things to keep it going.

Now let’s talk about Victor’s priorities in life:

Victor has always been close with his family, especially his mother. The strain on that relationship is very taxing on his mental well-being. He has a hard time ‘standing up to’ her or talking back to her, etc. because he loves her and he just wants their easy, close relationship back. He already overcame his own anger at her affair to get her back, but now she’s the one pulling away because of his sexuality and it’s hurting him because if he was able to forgive her for something that was actually wrong, why can’t she forgive him for something that he has no control over. So he loves his mother and his family and he hates disappointing them. He has spent most of his life fixing his family’s issues (as he explains to Simon in S1), but now he is the issue and he doesn’t know how to handle it. When in 2x1 he decides to just bring Benji over and try exposure therapy with his mom, it backfires in a big way. Even though they barely touch each other. Even though Benji just says the word boyfriend once, it’s too much for Isabel and Victor desperately wants to please. He desperately wants to not lose his mother (who has always been the person he is closest to), so that causes him to take a step back from going against her and the steps he still takes (telling her he wants her to call Benji his boyfriend not just his friend, the whole conversation outside the church, the conversation with Adrian, etc.) are things that Benji doesn’t get to see happening and it frustrated Victor that Benji won’t even listen to him when he tries to say that his mom is making progress at all, because she is so important to him and yet it seems like Benji just doesn’t even recognize or care about that. This leads him to say the thing he does at Brasstown before Benji runs out, because he assumes that it has to do with Benji being white and of course, that is part of it, but I think Victor in that moment is so overwhelmed by the rejection of his mother and now the refusal of his boyfriend to even try to understand that he snaps. He forgets all the struggles Benji has told him from his own past and he just lashes out which causes Benji to leave [more on Benji’s viewpoint of this whole thing later].

Victor also loves basketball. It’s true that in some case LGBTQIA+ individual participate in certain activities to make them seem more ‘normal’. Gay men participating in sports to seem more macho is a common one, so Benji thinking that’s why Victor plays basketball makes sense to an extend, but he never bothers to ask Victor about, only makes assumptions, and Victor feels like the fact that he actually likes sports makes him ‘not gay enough’ (see conversation with Andrew). What he’s forgetting entirely is his encounter with Bram and the gay basketball league in NYC from episode 1x8. There are many ways to be gay, and sports gays do exist and are perfectly valid. That’s not the type of gay Benji or his friends/bandmates are, but it is the type that Victor is and Benji failing to recognize that and failing to understand or even ask Victor about that drives one of many wrenches into their relationship. In episode 1x5 when Benji shows up to Victor’s first game back on the team and does the Go Grizzlies dance with the other basketball girlfriends, it definitely does a lot of help Victor realize this was just a miscommunication/misunderstanding rather than anything malicious. Basketball and his teammates continue to be a priority for him after this, but that seems to be something Benji is now capable of understanding.

Finally, Victor loves Benji. He wants to be with Benji; there is zero doubt about that. However, for Victor when he’s put on the spot (as in episode 2x8) and basically told he has to choose his mom (who has raised him and been his closest confidant and biggest supporter for his entire life) or his boyfriend (who he’s known for almost a year and been dating for six months and is helplessly in love with) it processes as an error message in his brain. He just wants everyone to get along. He’s not mad that Adrian knows that he’s gay (he’s wanted him to know for months), but he is upset that his mom is now even angrier. [see my section about Benji in this moment, for more about Isabel’s reactions as well] In his mind, telling Adrian could wait. In his mind, he was willing to go along with his mom’s requests for a while longer just to keep the peace so to speak. He didn’t want his whole life to fall apart and that’s what he thought was about to happen in that moment. That’s why he asked Benji to leave. He didn’t want to make his mom any angrier. Could he have chosen his words better? Yes. Could he have made Benji understand better? Yes. But he’s sixteen and his brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity because post-sex brain is definitely a thing and he was also looking at his mom who has already been horrible and barely able to look at him for six months, looking even angrier after he finally thought they’d made some progress after church the previous week.

So in conclusion, regarding Victor:

He loves his family (especially his mom). He loves Benji. He loves Basketball. Obviously, he’s not going to prioritize basketball over either of the human beings involved, but I think it’s important to at least note it’s importance in his life. As for Isabel vs. Benji. To Victor, these are the two most important people in his life. All he wants is to be able to love both of them and have both of them love him in return. When they are pit against each other, especially directly, it’s hard for him to make a choice. It’s hard for him to say ‘no’ to his mom and it’s hard for him to say ‘no’ to Benji, but in the moment (episode 2x8 specifically), he takes Isabel’s side, because he knows the ramifications of saying no to her and of making her even more angry that she already is are far worse than the ones for asking Benji to leave for the night. He failed to realize however, how close Benji already was to the edge and how upset he was going to be and how little he understood (or was willing to try to understand) about the situation. This is something he really needs to communicate with Benji (even though it’s not quite as important now that Isabel’s apparently come around). I think it’s important for Benji to understand that Victor values his relationship with his mother enough that it’s difficult for him to go against her without a lot of preparation and having a fully fledged reason, etc.

Now for Benji - Struggles and Life:

The obvious of course is that Benji is a sixteen/seventeen year old that’s barely a year sober and attending AA meetings regularly. Recovering from Alcoholism is difficult at any age let alone for a teenager. One of the most important factors in recovery is looking at the things that led you to drink in the first place. Looking at things that may be considered triggers and either learning to avoid those people/situations or learning healthy alternatives in those situations. I have multiple family members who are both actively drinking alcoholics as well as those in recovery. I also lost my best friend/ex-fiancé to alcoholism a few years ago, so to say I have some personal experience in this arena is putting it lightly. Benji admits to Victor in 1x7 that he used to drink a lot because he knew he was gay, but didn’t want to be. To me that whole story screamed, I’m an alcoholic and while a lot of others agreed with that opinion. I was not shocked that Victor didn’t understand that underlying truth. Those that don’t have intimate familiarity with alcoholism often do not recognize the signs (either as they happen when when they are not directly told). It is made clear in episodes 2x7 & 2x8 that Benji hates this part of himself, in fact he says as much to Victor when he arrives at his apartment late the night of his birthday. Benji has still not fully accepted that the alcoholic part of himself that attends AA meetings and drinks orange juice while his friends are drinking vodka is one and the same with the part of himself that loves Victor with all his heart. This is something I’d really like to see him reconcile and work on in season 3 and beyond. Understand that you can’t compartmentalize yourself. You are but one whole person and all facets of yourself are in fact part of the singular you. [Not accounting for those with dissociative identity disorder.] It’s not directly mentioned if he’s still struggling with urges to drink, but most if not all alcoholics do, especially when experiencing those aforementioned triggers. Seeing Benji meeting with his sponsor after the incident with Isabel/Victor is not shocking to me and if anything, that was the healthy and correct response on his part. The reason he was drinking in the first place was that he was gay and didn’t want to be (internalized and probably external homophobia) and he just experience some really intense homophobia at the hands of his boyfriend’s mom (and partially said boyfriend himself). Benji’s lack of understanding of where Isabel was coming from in episode 1x8 speaks volumes to just how traumatize Benji still is about his own experiences with homophobia. The only thing he can think about in that moment is that this woman hates me for being gay. She hates her son for being gay. Being gay isn’t okay, etc. What he doesn’t factor in is that Isabel is also devoutly Catholic. I honestly don’t think it’s the gay part of the sex that horrified her the most. The Catholic faith is also very clear on the practice of abstinence from sex (at all) prior to marriage. She would’ve responded the same way had she walked in on Victor having sex with a girl, in my opinion, but in the moment Benji’s own trauma is overriding his ability to understand that because all he can see is the homophobia. This is especially true after she calls him Victor’s friend rather than his boyfriend and that in my opinion, is why he snaps. Could he have phrased it better? Yes. Could he have said it without shouting? Yes. But he is a freshly seventeen-year-old whose brain is not functioning on all cylinders in that moment.

Sort of coupled with his alcoholism and recovery therefrom is the allusion his mother makes to ‘dark times’ following his accident. I do have suspicions that perhaps he was also struggling with mental illness, and likely continues to. Depression to the point of suicidal ideation or actions (possibly only in the form of drinking, but possibly in other forms as well). Anxiety is pretty obvious from his actions and reactions throughout the series as well. I also think he is dealing with some sort of trauma-based disorder stemming from the homophobia he experienced (especially the instance of his father taking him to strip-club). It may go as far as C-PTSD (which I myself am diagnosed with) or it maybe something less (or even more). I’m not in the habit of sticking mental health diagnoses of people (fictional or otherwise though). Dealing with these things on top of what in his eyes feels like rejection from not only Isabel, but in a way from Victor as well likely causes some very unpleasant thought patterns and the potential for thought spirals and the likely. I also see indications that he could suffer from co-dependency (whish I also have dealt with in the past), but I’m honestly not sure if that’s me projecting or if it’s actually there.

Then on top of all of that, his boyfriend who he loves more than anything in the world, tells his deepest darkest secret to someone he’s literally never met or spoken to and that said boyfriend has only known for maybe a week at best and thinks it’s no big deal. In that moment, I can 110% see why Benji requests to take a break and I feel that choice is 110% the right one to make. What is a relationship built on if not trust? Victor just destroyed most if not all of the trust Benji had in him. That doesn’t mean he stopped loving him, just that he doesn’t trust him. Love isn’t something you can turn off and on like a light switch especially not the kind these two share. I definitely think Victor has a lot of explaining to do and a lot of apologies to make. I do also think they both need to have a really long, really honest and open conversation. Benji needs to be willing to get a little vulnerable and explain why certain things are causing him so much distress, but he also needs to be willing to listen to Victor explain why he can’t simply go against his mother as Benji seems to think he should. They both really demonstrated a degree of selfishness this season along with an lack of communication and a lack of willingness to understand or even try to understand each other’s points of view and that is a recipe for disaster in any relationship.

There also exists the issue of Benji’s parents. His mother especially seems to overstep quite frequently and insert herself into his life where she was not invited or expected. I do wonder if this was always her personality or if this is something that started after Benji’s accident. I have a hunch it was likely the latter. I see indications that perhaps there was some neglect or just general indifference on his parents part as he was growing up. They clearly missed that he had started drinking heavily and that he stole his dad’s car that night. He was also evidently dating Derek for quite a while before the accident. (Derek is another section by himself though.) This not to mention the fact that his father took him to a strip club and paid for a lap dance when he was no more than sixteen if he was even that old, in an effort to turn him straight. Benji tells Victor in episode 1x7 that he and his dad used to be close and that they used to go to Dollywood on road trips and other such things, but that he’s been distant since he came out. We see from the scene where he walks in on Benji and Victor making out that he’s not vocally/outwardly homophobic, but I would not doubt that he still harbors some of those viewpoints in himself. It’s evident to me that Benji is not close to his parents (he may once have been, but at this point it’s pretty clear that he’s not anymore). Benji doesn’t have siblings to the best of our knowledge. It’s also mentioned that his nana (like a paternal grandmother) is deceased, so it’s really not clear how much contact he even has with his extended family or how much of one exists. For these reasons, in his mind, there is no circumstance where his family (especially not his parents) would take precedence of his own happiness or Victor’s. That is why it confuses/hurts/angers him that Victor doesn’t stand up to Isabel, because if the roles were reversed, he would have no problem at all telling his own mother (or father) off. He doesn’t seem to comprehend Victor’s need to keep his relationship with his mother intact. I’m very glad Isabel pointed out to him that Victor has stood up to her and risked their relationship for him, but the disconnect still lies in that Benji isn’t a fan of the fact that he didn't’ do that in his presence and that he didn’t do more.

Then there’s Derek. Derek is at least a sophomore in college in season 2 as he was clearly in college in season 1 as well. Meaning he is at least 19/20 when Benji is 16/17. They had been together for a year the previous spring (episode 1x6) which means they started dating when Benji was 15 and Derek was no younger than 18 (I think he is like at least a year older than the youngest possibility). Georgia’s age of consent is 16, and there are no ‘Romeo and Juliet’ laws in place in the state meaning it is categorically illegal for anyone 18 years of age or older to engage in sexual acts with anyone 15 years of age or younger unless they are legally wed, meaning until Benji’s 16th birthday, this relationship was illegal in general not to mention the predatory nature of someone in college dating a high school sophomore to begin with. They generally don’t prosecute if the people involved are within 4 years of each other though (which coincides with ‘Romeo and Juliet’ laws in other states) which they could’ve been within depending on Derek’s actual age and birthday. It doesn’t seem like charges were filed either way which is questionable on Benji’s parents part. Benji also tells Victor in 1x10 that Derek made him feel bad a lot of the time about the things he like and about being a romantic, we also see Derek crap all over Benji’s special anniversary date in 1x6. The toxicity of that relationship is sure to have left it’s mark on Benji and carried over into his new relationship with Victor. I also find it questionable that knowing that, Benji was shitting all over Victor’s love for basketball at one point (isn’t that exactly what he complained about Derek doing to him about his interests?), though as you see in my earlier comments, I do understand that perhaps Benji wasn't’ fully aware that Victor actually liked basketball and wasn’t just doing it to seem straight/make his dad happy/etc. I also think it’s quite confusing that Victor managed to come up with that date idea for Benji in 1x6 and then the best he could do for Benji’s birthday was champagne and sex? I’d be more than marginally hurt over that if I was Benji, to be completely fair. It is also worth it to note that Benji stayed with Derek for over a year despite all of their problems (which goes back to the possibility of co-dependency issues) and yet he was willing to break up with him just to chase after the possibility of Victor. They had already connected on so many levels even prior to that night that even the possibility of that relationship made Benji willing to leave someone he’d been with for more than a year (obviously Victor’s little speech in the hallway played a part in that).

Benji’s Priorities:

In Benji’s world, he has a few things that could be considered priorities.

Maintaining his sobriety is obviously one, but he keeps that separate from everything else. I don’t see it being held above or below anyone or anything. It’s just a completely separate thing to him (which again I feel he needs to reconcile). He was able to do that while also appeasing his friends and Victor (see episode 2x4 where he switches out his cups).

His music/band is obviously a priority, but again that’s something basic that everyone knows about and accepts. He doesn’t have choose between that and anything or anyone else that we’re shown.

Victor is his primary priority however. To him, that is the most important relationship/person in his life. He doesn’t know what he’d do without him. He says he loves that part of his life which I take to mean, he loves who he is when they’re together and not so much when they’re apart. To him, there is no question of who he would choose if there was a choice in front of him between Victor and literally anyone else (including his parents). That is why it confuses/hurts/angers him when the choice isn’t so simple for Victor when he actually has to make one between Benji and Isabel. Benji isn’t close with his parents and he doesn’t seem to understand what it is like for someone that is. Even if his parents didn’t come around right away. Even if they still may not be fully on board with everything, it didn't’ matter that much to him, because he could stand up to them because he didn’t care about destroying a relationship, because there already wasn’t much of one to begin with. This leads to him not understanding that Victor is seriously conflicted in the moments where he is made to choose between his boyfriend and his mother, because to Benji that choice is crystal clear. Again, they could really do with an honest conversation about this where Benji actually listens and tries to understand where Victor’s coming from, because right now, I think he just doesn’t quite get it. It’s clear that Isabel’s speech at Brasstown helped him to understand or at least start to, and obviously now that Isabel isn’t so much of an obstacle everything becomes a little easier, but it is still something that I really feel they need to discuss and understand about each other.

In conclusion:

Both of these boys need therapy (individual, family, and couples), and they would really benefit from a lot more open and honest communication where they both are able to speak honestly about their needs and desires as well as both being able to listen to and understand (or try to at least) one another.

71 notes · View notes

itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

Text

Past Hurt

This was a request from @faithie-brock-gillespie01 I hope you like it and its what you were looking for. I did change one thing around casue it just happened and it fit :)

Warnings: This does speak of an abusive boyfriend (as per the request) I tried to tread really lightly on the details of this type of relationship as I know this subject can be quite triggering for many (to my usual tag list, completely understand if you don’t read it) everything is under the cut so please keep scrolling if you think this will trigger you, I don’t want that 😘angst with a fluffy happy Nick ending.

WC: 1689

Enjoy x

Nick had noticed a change; you were quiet and what was a big red flag to him was how you were dressing and presenting yourself had changed. No light make-up anymore, your hair in a low lose pony tail and in the middle of summer you had been wearing turtle necks, shirts with longer sleeves and you were straight out the door as soon as your shift was over or he could see and feel your destress when you had to stay back for a case. He had asked you multiple times a day over the last couple of weeks if you were ok or if there was anything you wanted to talk about, but you shut him down every time.

The final straw for him to push you to talk was when you had gone into a convince store to question a witness about a house across the street you had gotten intel on, you hadn’t been focused since Liv had said you and Nick were going to do an overnight steak out the next night. He could feel the tension radiating off you during the questioning and half way through you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. When Nick finished the questioning, he went out and waited in the car. He pulled his sunglasses off his face when he saw you walking out, he frowned his brows as you walked towards the car, when some kids yelled at each other as they rode past on their bikes and you jumped, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Nick couldn’t sleep that night thinking about how jumpy you were the rest of the day at the most normal things, like loud noise or loud voices in the bullpen, he wanted nothing more than to go to your apartment and pull you out, but he couldn’t, he didn’t know for sure what was going on, but he had seen enough to figure everything out.

You had stayed in the car when he walked down to the next block to get a coffee and a snack, back before you knew it. The car was silent for a long time, you both sipping on your coffee and eating your power bars, your phone buzzing over and over the only noise filling the car,

“You going to answer that?”

“Its not important” you muttered back taking a sip of your coffee.

“Must be if it keeps ringing”

“Nick, you need to drop it” you snapped

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“There is nothin-“

“Enough with the lie, Y/N”

“Nick, I’ am not lying”

“Who are you kidding? Yes, you are. You have changed, I have seen all the red flags, I know what’s going on”

“Nick, you don’t know everything. There is nothing”

“Y/N, stop it. You need to talk about it. You need to leave”

“I can handle it Nick”

“Well clearly you can’t. I’ am your partner Y/N and you don’t trust me?”

“I do trust you, if there was something to tell, you would be the first I would”

“How can we work together with you hiding things. You don’t trust me with anything, because if you did you would tell me now and not lie or brush it off” he raised his voice slightly.

He saw you freeze, your hands started to shake and your breathing got heavy. Nick’s heart broke and tears came to his eyes. He sat his coffee in the cup holder taking yours out of your shaking ones putting it into the other cup holder and he put an arm around your shoulders. You tensed into his touch and you felt his hand go to your cheek guiding your face to look at him,

“Y/N, I’ am sorry, I shouldn’t have raised my voice. It’s me sweetheart, I got you”

You started to sob and fell into Nick’s chest, covering your face with your hands. Nick wrapped his arms around you tightly, and he kissed your forehead.

“Oh Nick” you sniffed “How did I get into this mess?”

You sat back off him, his hands grabbed yours and you started to open up. Months and months of horrible situations that had happened to you by the hands of your boyfriend. You showed him photos in a private folder on your phone, doctors reports emailed to your work email, parts of your body that had been hurt and had told him the times you had been forced to do things you didn’t want to do so he didn’t get physical with you. Nick squeezed your hand, tears running down his cheeks listening to you,

“I need to handle this” Nick muttered.

“No Nick. You’re not losing your badge for me”

“If you won’t let me fix it, you need to tell Barba. He will charge him, for everything”

“Nick” you shook your head and your hand went to his cheek, he leaning into it “How many men have we built cases against, Rafael takes them to court, their lawyers tear the victim apart and they get let off. It’s he said, she said. I don’t want to go through that, I don’t think I could”

“But you have all the evidence. I won’t leave your side; you can’t let him get away with it”

It had been 3 weeks since the night you had told Nick everything, you were staying in his spare room after that night. You both went to Liv the next morning and you were in Rafael’s office that afternoon prepping for a trial after he was arrested and charges were filed. Nick, Fin, Sonny, Liv and Amanda going to your boyfriends apartment the following weekend getting all your cloths and most valuables, which wasn’t much, he making you sell most of your things before you moved in with him. You hadn’t slept the night before the trial, tossing and turning most of the night. Nick drove you to court that morning, Rafael waiting for you outside the court room,

“I want to sit you on the stand” Rafael grabbed your shoulder “I now this is going to be hard today, so I just want you to sit and focus. I’ll be there and won’t let anything happen to you”

You nodded back at Rafael giving him a little smile and the three of you walked in. You walked up to the stand, Nick coming to stand in front of where the jury sits and Rafael was organising his paper work on the table. Your eyes were scanning around the room that you had sat in so many times, when the doors to the right opened pulling your attention to them and your heart stopped. Your ex-boyfriend walked in with his lawyer and you gasped when you saw the anger flash across his face like you had so many times before when he set eyes on you.

He started yelling loud at you, horrible, hurtful things that you had heard before as he walked towards you. Rafael yelled for security stepping in front of him and Nick rushed over to you grabbing your hand, pulling you down off the stand and he put his arm around you as he guided you out of the room and to the car. After the incident Nick taking you back to the station, Rafael ended up recording your statement so you didn’t need to be there and Liv told Nick to take you home.

The case ended up going on longer then you had all thought it would, but finally after 6 weeks it was over with, your ex charged and Rafael requested the maximum. You finally felt like yourself again, living with Nick was the best thing that had ever happened to you. You were running with him when you got home, he was teaching you to box, you were going out again with the squad and most of all you were starting to smile and laugh.

You had both come home late after questioning a victim, showering and going straight to bed to be in court at 9am with the latest case in. You had drifted off to sleep quite quickly, not asleep for long when you were shocked awake after having a horrible dream. You screamed for Nick, over and over till he came rushing into your room with a worried look on his face. Nick rushed over to the bed wrapping you in his arms and you cried into his bare chest,

“Y/N, darlin’ its ok. I’ am here” One of Nick’s hands came up to run through your hair and his other running up and down your back “It was bad dream. It’s over babe, I’ll never let anything happen to you again. You’re safe, I’ll always keep you safe”

It took you a while for you to relax into him, but when you did, you nuzzled into his body more, your head going into his neck and your arms around him. Nick held you till you had stopped crying, hearing his heart beat in his chest calming you,

“Thank you, for everything” you sat up off him and your eyes locked with his

“Of course, Y/N. You have no idea how hard it was to see someone you have feeling for go through what you did. But seeing you get through it the way you did, made me fall in love with you. You’re brave and strong and I’ am so proud of you” Nick’s hand went to the side of your head and he gave you a soft smile.

“I love you too” you blurted out “You make me feel so worthy of love, you make me feel like me”

“Baby, you have always been worthy of love. You are so amazing, please let me show you when you’re ready”

You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand and lent over kissing him lightly on the lips. Nick let you take the lead, not deepening it but kissing you back gently.

“Your my rainbow after the storm. I love you Nick Amaro”

“I love you just as much mi amor”

Tags: @alwaysachorusgirl @ben-c-group-therapy @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo

#nick amaro #nick amaro x reader #nick amaro x you #detective nicolas amaro #detective nick amaro #law and order svu #suv fandom #SVU fanfiction #svu x reader

42 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Hello Steph 😊 Do you have any BAMF Molly or just some good fics that feature Molly? I need some Molly love at the moment because I just read a fic where she "turns to the drak side" so to speak, and my heart 😭😭😭

Hey Nonny!

Ah I did a few comm. recs lists recently with Molly, but here are what I can offer you from memory, LOL. PLEASE add your fave Molly fics, guys! PLEASE NOTE these are fics I’ve read, and please check the sub-headings for a TONNE of stuff I haven’t read!! Big title so I can find it later LOL.

MOLLY PLAYS A ROLE

See also:

COMM RECS: Coming Out To Molly

COMM RECS: Molly with Women

COMM RECS: Molly and Greg Push John and Sherlock Together

COMM RECS: Molly as a Villain

Santa Knows by Itsallfine (T, 1,719 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Party, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Matchmaking, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock and John both get exactly what they want from the Yard's secret Santa exchange. Pure holiday fluff.

What John Doesn't Know (Won't Hurt Him) by blueink3 (NR [T], 4,392 w., 1 Ch, || S3 Fix It, Pining Sherlock, Snippets of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Fluff and Angst, Five and One, Hopeful Ending, POV Sherlock) – Five people who see Sherlock's scars before John Watson. But Sherlock's secrets were never something he could keep from his blogger for long.

Thirty Three Hours Without John Watson by Bookaholic, mybrotherharry (M, 6,232 w. || First Kiss / Time, Pining Idiots, BG Mystrade, Crackish) – Sherlock can SO TOTALLY survive without John Watson. It should be a piece of cake. AKA the time when Sherlock braved grocery store lines for milk, purchased and gave away a box of tampons and figured out what the X-Factor is. Greg and Mycroft didn’t sign up for this shit. Next time, they are going to the Bahamas.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

Insanity in the Middle by DotyTakeThisDown (E, 28,010 w., 8 Ch. || Equestrian Sports AU || Alternate First Meeting, POV John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Clueless Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Passionate Kisses, Hand Holding, Caught Making Out, Bed Sharing, Spooning, Blow Job) – John is a world-class eventing rider with a gold medal and several four-star wins to his credit, but he's never won at Rolex. Sherlock is an up-and-coming rider taking the sport by storm.

Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein (T, 31,987 w., 11 Ch. || College/Uni AU || Professor John, Ph.D Student Sherlock, Pining John, Poetry, Falling in Love / Slow Burn, Light Angst, Happy Ending) – John is an English professor who specializes in War and Post-War Literature and Sherlock is the brilliant yet impossible Ph.D. student assigned to be his TA because no one in the Chemistry Department is willing to put up with him. And - somewhere between Waugh and Plath, e-mails and takeaway, novels and villanelles - they fall in love.

The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm (E, 35,663 w., 20 Ch. || Alternating POV, Molly/ John [Molly pines for John], Public Sex, Casual Sex, Obliviousness, BAMF!John, Awkwardness, Angst & Humour, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) – Molly sees John in a new light and realises that she may have hitched her horse to the wrong wagon...or something like that. John pines for Sherlock and worries what he will think if he ever finds out. And Sherlock doesn't know what Molly's up to...but he knows he doesn't like it.

The Pieces That Fall to Earth by Itsallfine (M, 49,513 w., 84 Ch. || S4 Fix-It, Epistolary, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Parentlock, Past Abuse, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, Questioning Sexuality, Mental Health Issues / Therapy, Angst, Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock have hit rock bottom, but with all their armor stripped away, they can finally speak honestly, seek healing, and find the truths that matter most. An epistolary post-s4 fix-it fic. Now complete. (This fic is rated T except for one very clearly marked and easily skippable chapter, which is rated M.) Part 1 of The Pieces that Fall to Earth

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w., 15 Ch. || Notting Hill AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant -- but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

This Thing All Things Devours by cypress_tree (E, 63,844 w., 15 Ch. || In Time AU || Science Fiction, Dystopian Universe, First Meetings, Action / Adventure, Romance) – In 2169, time is money—literally. Humans are genetically engineered to stop aging at 25, when the numbers on their arm start counting down from one year. When that time is up, they die. The only way to get more time is to earn it, borrow it, or steal it.John Watson lives day-to-day in the crowded slums of Zone 13. He never imagined living any differently—until he meets the practically-immortal Sherlock, and helps him on a case to track a local time-thief...

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Stars Move Still by BeautifulFiction (E, 96,022 w., 5 Ch. || Magical Realism, Demons, Slash to Pre-Slash, AU, Happy Ending, Souls) – "What could I want so desperately that would make me sell my soul? What could possibly compel me to surrender the part of myself that makes me who I am: the source of my magic, my self-control, everything?”

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles, Girl’s Night, Texting, Virgin Sherlock, Drunk Sherlock, Background Mollstrade, Hair Petting, Laying on Lap) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

between each beat are words unsaid by darcylindbergh, hudders-and-hiddles (T, 107,998 w., 215 Ch. || Epistolary, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Happy Ending) – On their wedding night, John and Sherlock gift each other with the things they each said when the other could not hear, the things they each put down where the other could not see: a collection of writings that illustrate the way their love for one another has grown over the years. Part 1 of between each beat

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #molly fics #molly plays a role #my fic recs #Anonymous #long post

79 notes · View notes

h0unds-of-h3ll · 3 years

Text

Talking to the moon

The rumors and trauma lived inside his head in fact it ate him alive. Each and everyday lifeless and a black cloud hung over his head. Except when he received and a test message from an unknown number. He knew it was unknown for three reasons. 1) Everyone knew to not text him or disturb him unless he contacted them first. 2) He could recite his entire list of contacts over anything else in his life. And the third was that he didn’t know that this unknown message would change him forever.

Word count: 15,000 *im so sorryyyy*

This is another dreaded Bucky Barnes x reader fic.

Viewers beware you are in for a scare with the: fluff, Bucky is a wanna be alcoholic, blood, angst, cheesy tropes *wrong number,etc*, bad jokes, one liners, awkwardness, sexual innuendos, mentioned sexual harassment, suicidal thoughts, depression, murder, slight dark Bucky who’s just trying to get through life, Sam Wilson mentioned, astrology and planets, knifes, ptsd, nightmares and terrors, flashbacks, sad bitch Bucky missing Steven and using the reader as a better therapist then the certified one, she/her pronouns used for the reader, mostly from Buckys POV, she/you referring to the reader JOHN WALKER SLANDER NO HATE TO THE ACTOR, glass.

(This is dedicated to my friend, tiny adjustments to buckys story and I am dearly sorry if I didn’t write bucky true to his character!)

He choked awake on the air that never left his cold lungs, meanwhile, his skin was afire. A coat of sweat coated him, he slept shirtless since this occurred so often. Always waking in the depth of night to little to no light, only the low gleam of the moon shone through his window near his kitchen along with the soft luminosity of the television sat in front of the sofa. One that he refused to sleep on. He couldn't even sleep on the soft bed tucked in the back corner of the room down the hall in his apartment. He debated why he just wouldn't move into a studio apartment instead of the one he resides in.

He huffed staggeringly and his eyes falling to the ground, searching for something that was never there. Tranquility. His brain trying to calm itself in some form, it never worked it took hours for it to. Even then it never lasted. He suffers another day's trauma trying to sort the world back into order. Sam would often notice but knew to never ask him about it. He knew from the months working together asking and attempting to comfort Bucky often led to arguments. Bucky strongly knew this was nothing and that others were just blowing it out of proportion.

That also led to bias work and Bucky not doing his best, since Sam put him in a bad mood beforehand. Bucky went to therapy. He was more forced than offered, the government felt he was more of a ticking bomb than anything else. Bucky thought of it as more of a joke than anything.

There was no sense in for him to go to the sessions. He often found himself trying to find excuses to skip sessions. He thought that the past is the past and trying to fix it wasn't a possibility. Bucky dealt with it the way he could. He pushed it deep, deep, down in the roaring sea of his mind and dealt with it later. Only in his dreams did it resurface to haunt him. Always making him uptight and tired from the lack of sleep.

However, at this point, he was use to the torture of it all. His brain is his worst enemy. Through shaky breath fanned on his arm, he was crouched over his left leg up his metal arm resting over his knee his other arm holding his weight. He watched the glow of the tv, his chest heaved in exasperation.

Nothing piqued his interest in broadcasting. It was all the same mumbo jumbo of stereotypical things like romance, the reality that was depicting the species as inhumane, the comedy he didn't understand, only one channel did hold his interest.

Perhaps it worsened his mental state but he didn't care and it was the news. It was all the current disasters of the world and the avengers trying to stabilize the circumstances and the best part of it all how disturbing the world is. Even if his bringing was normal to where he is now, he'd most likely be a deeply tormented individual.

He nearly had heart failure when a banner at the bottom of the screen read "John Walker elected as the new Captain America." In blinding letters. Above the banner was John Walker himself standing in front of the podium a hand raised in a gesture to recognize the audience's howl.

Buckys head burst with memories of Hydra and the way it evoked him. The way of how Hydra forced him to be something he wasn't. John Walker was the perfect example of an alternate reality with a substitute Steve. Everything Steve was for John Walker was against.

Images flashed in his head. He put his hands on his head his natural one warm and clammy, in contrast to the bitter cold one. It just gave his flashbacks even more fuel. Living with a constant reminder of who he is. A monster.

He grabbed tightly onto his hair the strands were being plucked as this was being written. He felt small patches of balding from this happening so regularly. His legs parted and creased by the knees. His face strained into pain. His extensive wrinkles from age, noticeable, and worsened from him doing so.

His blanket thrown away to the side with disregard, he started to rock softly front and back. The wood floor burned his tailbone from him sitting on it for so long. Suddenly he felt a different pain. A killer one.

The beige cabinets thrown open papers and documents scattered everywhere. The dark grey of a ceiling of the shelter peered over him judgingly. His arm pushed down into the metal of the chair burned from the uncomfortable position. The bolts leaving deep indentions in his skin. The helmet pressed tightly to his skull leaving him render less against the horror of hearing the words. So many times he had to go through this routine, the monitors loud and buzzing. He bit down strenuously onto the guard in his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. The electricity drumming into his head, his brain setting fire to its system, he feels it in his muscles, in his blood, the veins that pop in his neck. The tubes behind his head generated and pumped large amounts which umped higher and higher in velocity each time an activation word was spoken loud and clearly. Spat carelessly not in his mother's tongue, he would never think of the language to be beautiful only to be a monstrosity of the world one of the greatest. His dull fingernails dug into the chair it did nothing other than to give him some sort of balance. He screamed but it was muffled to an extent of the guard doing its purpose. "Daybreak."

The announcer spoke into the fuzzy black microphone that's the only word he made out to hear. The daily news report drone on for what of which he came back into reality.

He opened his azure eyes and looked to the left the window that sat in the middle of a pale white wall and his kitchen showed the red bloom of the sun and the tall buildings of the city.

He felt resentful towards the time of day since his flashbacks usually only lasted a minute or so.

Lately, they've grown in duration and that stroke dread into him. He was horrified that someone would say or do an act that would put him in a state of mind. One that he wished to not be in.

Somedays he just yearned to be left for dead in the snowfall of the forest. Notably, so far from the arm that was taken from him that it would be hidden to the world for eons. And from the pessimism of the clouds above him.

He grew irritably hot and damp from the excessive sweat he did to himself, he felt everything was his fault, enlisting, going on the train, helping Steve.

He hated himself for a moment realizing what he thought, he felt selfish for thinking that Steve did this to punish him. He sighed and laid his head tilted to the plastered ceiling.

His neck outstretched. His legs and his arm, limp from the compression of him tensing them for so long. His muscles trying their hardest to relax. His figure seeming to be the equivalent of a sack of potatoes.

He didn't care about how he presented, perhaps it was his past with being a soldier the constant thriving to be the strongest and the son of Hercules. He pushed so far that his body couldn't endure the strength he put it through.

Super soldier serum and all, he was still just a man. He was still human deep into the last atom of his DNA. His eyes nonchalantly examined his ceiling a soft pale white like the rest of his apartment, it reminded him of the moon outside.

If he were to take out his ceiling it'd be right above him. He was enamored by how it seemed to have an ever-lasting glow. He let out a shaky huff then fell ever quiet. Until the day grew old.

Yori had scheduled a lunch meeting earlier that week, they had a routine. Yori attended and Bucky paid. This happened every Wednesday they would meet up and discuss whatever they wished. Yori was just an old decaying man who lived in Chinatown, he lived across from Bucky's building. Yori was kind to the ones he knew.

It was otherwise to people he didn't. After Yori's son died it was hard to, if he only knew who Bucky was entirely he'd die out of shock. Bucky swore to tell him but honestly, Yori was his only friend he had out of work, and even that he couldn't let himself go and confide in Sam.

So here he was in a plain-back leather jacket, some jeans and the same pair of boots he had since the war. He didn't understand the fashion trends of late. Last week he and Yori saw a woman in a bright suit, it looked like a second skin from how tight it was.

Yori was simple-minded as he was and had similar morals and interests. It was disheartening to say that Bucky had a sort of envy for Yori, Bucky wished to have lived a normal life of maybe dying in the war or growing old and gray like Yori.

Get married, have a couple of kids, live a normal life. He understood greatly why Steve went back but he never fully forgave him for it. He felt like Steve was selfish for doing so, but isn't everyone? Steve got a normal life while Bucky had to rot in the world alone and was terrorized by his brain.

He crossed his arms, the leather making a strange sound since he gripped himself so tightly. He sat up straight, his shoulders back, his face set with a profound scowl. It forever imprinted on his face the dark scruff of a new beard growing in.

He hated how it meant uncleanliness, but he didn't have the motivation to shave it off, there wasn't a reason to anyway. He hadn't been on a date in years, centuries even.

He poked and played with his sushi that Yori said was great to try at least once. Bucky felt bad and tried a bite, he had to give credit for a thing so small having to be so spicy. That was about the first and last bite Bucky had. Since then he just jabbed at it with one of the sticks.

The other laid across the small complimentary plate with the rest of the remains of the sushi he failed to eat, he lost his appetite a few weeks ago.

He's been nursing a strong drink called Shōchū. Every time Bucky ordered it Yori said that he put an accent on it and that it made him sound like a foreigner. Although Bucky didn't know how since he was fluent but that was an argument for another day.

The employees there grew to know that they should just leave the bottle there since he usually drinks half their supply on each visit.

He just simply didn't think eating was something he needed. Recently things just seemed to bore him to the point where things that he needed to do he couldn't.

All because his brain tells him this doesn't matter. He's just lived so long from numerous life-ending things and he'd be damned if he'd kick the bucket from starvation.

"That scowl of yours is going to scare the women away," Yori spoke, breaking Bucky out of his trance. Bucky only saw the select few people around them and the women that Yori was referring to were a few older women with smiles and when Bucky turned to look they suggestively waved their fingers.

When Bucky looked back Yori smiled and waved and went back to inhaling noodles. Bucky looked at the man across from him in the small sushi restaurant he grew to know too well, they always sat in the same place a small table near the front of the glass doors.

Some posters and decorations were scattered throughout the small building. The dim lanterns gleam radiantly against the cryptic night. It rained before and the droplets of rain still reside on the windows behind Yori.

Yori slurped pounds of noodles into his mouth at a time, the residue of it was left behind on Yori's pale-white mustache. Bucky was surprised that the stick didn't break from the weight of it. Bucky's eyebrows furrowed together in thought, his posture relaxing.

He laughed inside his shoulders coming up and the side of his lips curved in a smirk. The demeanor he held was appealing from afar, (specifically to the cougars adjacent from where they were.)The conversation always breaking Bucky's previous mood, Yori was very light-hearted when he wasn't in a mood. Especially when he had food and good company. He decided to further it:

"What do you know about the ladies here that I don't?" Yori swallowed a big round lump in his throat slowly going down to his stomach, he must've had a pile of noodles in it by now.

"Well first off all, don't test my ways of making them swoon over me," Yori stated it more of a threat than a declaration. He used his chopsticks and pointed them at Bucky and a warning manner.

His eyebrows perked up and the wrinkles on his forehead worsened similar to the ones that grew on Bucky. His eyes became wide at the thought of being disrespected like the way Bucky just did.

"Second of all, you don't understand how to look without your eyes." And with that Yori chowed down once again on his bucket of noodles. Bucky couldn't perceive Yori's advice, what does seeing without your eyes even could mean?

His smirk faltered into his normal resting face which Yori liked to remark and say was the equivalent to people putting the trash into his garbage can. There was no rhyme or reason for people to do so but they just did.

Just like the way Bucky was always in a sour mood it reminded him of himself always being angry at the world because of other people.

"Have you been seeing anyone lately, if not that might be the cause of your problems," Yori spoke as if he knew everything about Bucky and maybe he could Truth it since Hydra and after being the winter soldier and Steve passing.

Bucky hadn't really been ready to mingle. He just knew he had too much baggage for a partner to put on deal with him. Every now and then when he felt completely alone he downloaded some dating app he didn't actually want and deleted it on the same night.

He had flings here and there and since he met Yori he had been setting him up on dates whether Bucky liked it or not. None of them worked out since Bucky didn't try; he was too wrapped up in his own problems to be listening to hers.

Bucky's gloved metal hand wrapped behind his neck and scratched his stubble coming back down.

"You know Yori surprisingly enough I haven't," Bucky spoke grimly and clutched his teeth. He knew Yori was going to tell him off. He winced when he heard Yori's chopsticks fall into the cup of noodles. Yori sat back into his wooden chair, his arms crossed and a displeased look came across his face.

"And why is that?" Bucky began to open his mouth "Don't give me some excuse that you always give me or this will be our last meeting." Yori stated in a harsh manner with his face twisted in that fatherly manner. "I don't understand why it's a great value to you, to know about my love life,"

Bucky spoke of it as a statement but it came out more as a question. Yori quieted and thought for a moment thinking of the proper words to say. "The stars are aligned in your favor, in which that means you should try and put effort into those small details in what is grief, if not love persevering."

Bucky sat there thinking over the things Yori told him. Bucky stretched his arm out to sip on the Shōchū. He was about a quarter way through. They'd only been there for two hours.

Since Yori met Bucky he learned that people can't always be that bad. Unless of course, you're the type who knocks over his trash can and the men don't pick it up and so it rots to hell when he fills it.

Bucky sighed and reached for the half-full glass of Shōchū. Yori never favored seeing him drink. It was too similar to him drinking when his son passed.

So Yori being Yori he made a little catapult with his chopsticks and put a small piece of noodle into his device and flicked it at Bucky. Bucky glared at him and touched the spot where it hit. Right in the middle of his creased eyebrows. The residue of the noodle followed his fingers Yori went back to eating but before he did so he gave a word to Bucky

"You're not supposed to think about how to see without your eyes. It defeats the purpose entirely if you think about it as strongly as you do, I may have some years under my belt of practicing but you are going to go nowhere soon with the troubles that live in your scowl."

He paused searching into Bucky's storm-driven eyes, Yori saw nothing that lived behind them other than sorrow. It pained Yori to see his friend in such a state.

Yori rested his hands on the table interlaced in front of him, trying to find anything worth reviving if it wasn't already killed behind Bucky's aurora. But then all of a sudden a glimmer, a spark you could say flitted inside the fellow in front of him.

Yori leaned back in his chair and smiled softly, his eyes creasing. "Ah, there it is," Yori spoke softly. Bucky confused more than he had ever been in his life questioned everything.

He had no idea what Yori was doing or as to why he endured the unwanted staring contest they just had. Then his answers were spoken by the one who created the questions.

"The way you see without your eyes is simply to be at peace with yourself, look at the moon and the stars.

They have no troubles or worries and they are the most looked at things in the entire universe no matter where you are. They see everything, yet they still choose to have no regard for the ones that judge them. For you young sir, for them to have that happiness you take that amount doubled."

Bucky scoffed that he didn't intend to be disrespectful, but how in the world was he supposed to be calm when he knew Yori's speech was literal. Yori never made jokes or metaphors, he learned that the hard way.

He uncrossed his arms for the first time since they sat down, and rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward in the wooden chair. He squinted his eyes, questioning Yori's statement.

He knew Yori hated to be questioned and tested, they always led to night and day-long arguments that never fully were resolved. Maybe it was the half bottle of Shōchū he drank that made him confident. He spoke rough and dry from it taking over his throat and liver.

"So let me get this straight. the only way I can find peace and happiness is if I talk to the stars and the moon? Yori, you've got to be joking." Yori grew agitated but his composure remained ever the slightest of relaxation.

Yori reached towards the back of his pants to retrieve something while glaring at Bucky and the staring contest resumed. Bucky thought for a moment that Yori was going to shoot him in point-blank range in front of the small company that was set at different tables all over the place.

Instead, Yori pulled out a small crumbling paperback book with the cover filled with stars and galaxy-type depictions and inscribed above it was

"Talking to the moon, and other astronomic casualties"

Yori sat the book gently on the side of the table he got up and before he left he looked at Bucky for a long while before turning and walking out the door. Not another word was spoken between them until the next Wednesday.

Bucky walked home that night by himself. Usually, he would walk with Yori but what happened at the sushi place he felt disturbed by. He lost his temper and he never should've.

He's been put in worse situations than thinking that Yori made him out to be a fool for believing that the stars could talk. Who knows if they do. He should've been more open-minded, he's just been riled up from the flashbacks.

Shōchū seemed to make things worse but he'd forget about things for a while. He wanted to apologize to Yori;

he severely drowned the urge. With the rest of the bottle. Yes, the restaurant let him take the rest. He had to pay handsomely. He thought it was worth it until he had to walk up the stairs to get into his apartment. He swayed back and forth mostly to the left. The arm weighed more when he was like this.

He had not a thought in mind about the world other than seeing the bottom of the clear bottle made of glass.

He tried to walk up the stairs he really did but his chunky boots made it hard to judge the height of the stairs. He got about halfway up them and then he fell. He smashed his chin against the wood and his chin started to bleed. He didn't try to stop the fall.

His right hand was occupied with the bottle. His thick scarred fingers tied around the neck of it securely. He'd kill anything that would try to take it away from him. He pushed himself up off the stair and he winced in pain when his right hand was now in the pile of glass. It fell and broke when he did.

His back burned with being indented from laying on the stairs. His chin seeped down onto the pit of his neck where his jaw formed.

He pushed slowly up off the stairs entirely putting his damaged hand behind his back. How ironic that his normal flesh is the damaged one.

He lifted off with the metal one. He clutched his wrist and pinched it tightly with the metal one.

Trying to cut off blood flow so it won't get more infected than it already had. He walked to his apartment shamefully. His head hung down low, too insecure and awkward about what happened. His jaw stern and gritted he was embarrassed.

The alcohol dimmed it but it was still a major event. He'd hit the rock bottom of an endless pit.

He dug out his key in his pocket and went inside. When he entered he always felt worse than he had left. Yet he never had a problem leaving. It always felt like he was welcomed back into a deep aurora of depression.

He stepped on the back of his boots and left them by the door. He walked to the bathroom but he stopped and turned to look at the tv. There he was again in all his glory. John Walker.

Although this time in his clutches was Steve's shield. He grew saddened by the fact Sam gave it over. He felt betrayed. Sam was the only one he knew other than him how valuable that was and John Walker out of all people had it in his possession.

He'd have a long discussion with Sam in the near future about this. He was always infuriated by John but now he couldn't put it into words. Except for the word imposterous.

Bucky felt a sharp pain in his wrist and when he looked down. He soon found that he was nearly fracturing his wrist with his metal modeled fingers. He also took into mind how deep the glass shard was. Some tiny, some huge. He cursed under his breath a soft and crude

"Fuck."

He quickly loosened his grip and shook his head in regret when he looked down to his wood floor. He realized that blood trickled from him since he opened the door.

He hastily shuffled awkwardly to the bathroom trying his hardest to not make more of a mess than he already had. He walked with long strides and his white socks dirtied from blood.

The bathroom was small, with half tiled walls and a tiled floor, beige paint covered the rest of the wall. A shower shoved to the left of him, an off-white bulb accentuated the room.

He swore to change it but he never did. A mirror and sink in front of him, the mirror was a small white rectangular one, matching the shape of the sink. Sandwiched in between the shower and sink was the smallest white toilet imaginable.

He hated going into the bathroom for this reason alone. He saw how weak he was in the mirror.

A busted bleeding wound. That crept close to the imprint that marked the middle of his chin, dark drunk eyes, shaded pink lips, sharp cheekbones accompanied with a keen jawline, scars littered across his body. His face had a few abrasions, and cheeks hidden in the scruff that continued to grow.

His hair tousled and strewn every way it pleased. He never cared about it; he never tried to style it since he'd just put his hands in it. His shoulders were clad in leather and a beige henley that matched the walls. The calmness after getting pounded reminded him of when hydra made him fight the other soldiers. Then suddenly he was there.

It was a day that Bucky would think about for the rest of his life. Bucky had a lot of those days but this one, in particular, was one that made him feel excruciating pain. The fight he was trained to lose. The compound was a dimly lit walkway in between the cells. Two would fight momentarily continuously one was declared the winner and fight the champion. Bucky or the soldier.

The commanders of hydra love to evoke fear. Seeing the men riddled with fear. Some vomit, others beg. Some are like Bucky. Ruthless. They don't care who they are or what they want to be. All they strive to be or do is fight and the blood splatter after winning against the enemy, releases stress so sometimes it's a release unless you have a guilty conscience. For Bucky, it's the latter. He has nightmares, sure, but everyone does.

Bucky had perfect posture, his head tilted into the way hydra trained him to do or to be brainwashed until he was complicit. Bright ocean eyes were unknowingly dead. The thunder of the other candidates to fight by the cells on the sidelines until it was their time to fight.

Although before they went to fight they would have a fistfight with Bucky to higher their combat skills. Bucky was the best soldier they had to let them practice on. That being said Bucky wasn't being used to his full potential. Bucky hadn't fought anyone to his skill level, everyone was either at a lower or average level. They were put into groups of two in fighting whoever won would fight either Bucky or another soldier even crueler than Bucky. Bucky had some remorse and would hold back. He still deep down was a person but the other soldier killed many from going too far. And today was the day that Bucky had to fight that soldier. Bucky had three other men for the soldier to fight until it was him, all skinny and small, scrappy.

The soldier was big and unruly. He was undefeated, sure Bucky was scared but at the compound, it's kill or be killed.

No one knew the soldier's true name, just the series of numbers he was given. His confidence may be the death of him. Bucky believed-knew that he was more than the average man. He had courage, a heart of gold, and the endurance of a bull and here he was amping himself up and nervously fidgeting wondering what would happen if he won this fight. He wondered if everyone would think of him as superior or if he'd be more of a black sheep.

He heard a crack of a hydra man yelling to start. The man in front of him was next and the one that lost had gashes to the bone and blood oozing out of places where he didn't know could.

Bucky felt exposed when the man in front of him went to fight, there was still a very long list behind him to fight but he was next up. The soldier looked at him, his demeanor felt like the grim reaper and Bucky was fixing to pay his toll.

The soldier had muscles upon muscles and as broad as one can ever be. The word powerful couldn't even describe him in the lightest.

Bucky chewed on the inside his cheek he was nervous.

The soldier was known to put the others in the infirmary for days on end and those he hurt abnormally bad gotta not fight for a while and rot in their cell until. More often than none they'd put you back out in the field.

The stories of this soldier were the type you'd tell sitting at a campfire to scare kids, instead, it was grown, men. Even if Bucky was the bravest out there he wasn't like the soldier.

Bucky observed all of his techniques and styles over the weeks. Preparing himself for his scheduled fight. It was an algorithm for the soldier to react to specific hits and counter them with the same thing over and over. The hydra men taught all of the soldiers the same moves except the one Bucky was going to go against. They knew Bucky was their best soldier so they had to at least put him in a good fight. Bucky caught on to this pattern and that made him think that he could win.

The man in front of him laid in a fetal position with mud and red splatter across his pale form, the boisterous crowd making the shame feel unbearable.

Then all of a sudden Bucky felt a harsh shove on his back. One of the hydra men shoving him into the pit with the soldier. Bucky nearly fell face forward on the cement. A burst of loud booming laughter deafened him more than the crowd on the sidelines.

The soldier crouched low and Bucky knew what he was going to do. He took out the legs then beat his component to a pulp like a gorilla. Bucky did the same stance. He looked foolish, his hair stuck to his forehead, sweat-soaked his clothes which were already tightened to his skin from the excessive working out he did. Courtesy of Hydra wanting him to be in top shape. The other soldiers grew restless as they psyched one out. They went into circles staring at one other like vultures testing who was the quickest. Whoever blinks first wouldn't blink for weeks after.

A screech came from the soldier and he came after Bucky.

Now imagine a vicious lion combined with a cyclops coming at you. Bucky psyched him out and pivoted. That just angered him more since the battles never lasted more than a couple of minutes. This one was already the longest. The soldier turned slightly and looked over his shoulder and before he could do so Bucky had gotten close enough to kick the left of his knee in and he fell. It was as loud as the thunder when he did.

Although Bucky wasn't watching his feet and the soldier took his left foot and grabbed Bucky. He fell. The roar of the other soldiers boomed. His ears went out painfully, a ringing sound, and the rain flew harshly against his face.

He couldn't move, the wind knocked out of him that he couldn't breathe. He felt ashamed to have even thought that he could win. The black ceiling littered with golden beams.

The gold reminded him of the stars behind them, how someday he could be out of this dungeon to see them again. Abruptly all the ringing in his ears came back. He heard a low hum of breathing; he thought it was his own until he saw the beast above him. The soldier grabbed his arms and Bucky struggled even through his stupor. Bucky wiggled and tried to get out from his grasp but he was a god amongst men. Bucky then thought of how Steve felt when he'd get cornered in an alley and he'd come and save Steve from being killed. But Bucky didn't get saved. The barbarian struck Bucky over and over. The nurse would later tell him that she was surprised that he didn't have any brain damage. Bucky waved in and out of reality. Every time he tried to open his eyes it'd be welcomed with a fist. Bucky spat the blood out of his mouth onto the soldier. The soldier was just too strong. He was impossible to win against. The soldier rubbed the blood into his face and laughed. He leaned to Bucky's ear only so he could hear "puny."

Bucky screamed loud. Loud enough that the neighbors awoke from their sleep and he'd sure have a lot of complaints to address in the morning. In a split second, he found himself with his fist through the mirror, the glass falling every way onto the tile into the sink and toilet. Into the already damaged hand of his, the glass poked through his palm, and through the other side, the previous glass dug deeper into his flesh.

Severing the tendons. All he could think about was the pain of having to clean everything up. He didn't feel the pain he caused himself because that didn't matter. It made him feel the least bit human. Pain. Everything living thing felt alive and once he lost that. He'd feel like a complete and utter monstrosity.

He looked up from his hand and to the mirror. Shards still hung and it displayed a perfect depiction of what Bucky was. Damaged.

Bucky spent the rest of the night with a bandaged chin that kept bleeding like a waterfall. Hw picking out pieces of glass with the smallest tweezers known to man, that too ruby red water ran down the sides of his hand onto his bare beefy thighs and pooled in the middle of his palm.

He had calmed down after a couple of hours by sitting on the bumped-out window.

He often likes sitting there and watching the city. The cars zooming past the bright casinos.

The one thing he enjoyed the most was watching the constellations and making them out to be the things he liked. Often he'd see a star in the moon and he saw the shield.

He hated that one since it put him in the pain of remembering Steve and how he had no one.

He didn't need anyone. That's what he told himself but he was very wrong. His jacket was thrown over a wooden chair in the dining area. The sleeves of his henley rolled around his elbows showing the veins in his forearms.

He changed out his jeans for a random pair of dark shorts, he threw off his dirtied socks.

To say the least, he was at comfort for the first time this week. He started to read the book a little, the pages were torn and faded. Yori must've read this multiple times.

Bucky wondered why. The book was small and petite and was only a hundred or so pages. It was interesting, it was all about philosophy, it was written as if it was a big life poem.

He hated a lot of it but here and there were a few good points. He was about halfway through the book when a paragraph struck him.

Heart. Mind. Body. Soul. Great beings of life and they can only communicate by stars. Life and everything between can be carried through them. So if you speak to the sky of night. You will often hear a reply.

He thought of it as silly but then his brain began to wonder. What if he could talk to whoever he wished dead or alive. Just from talking to the stars. It seemed too easy and childish.

Although what did he have to lose the majority of the world hated him and the other half tolerated him.

He put the tweezers down and wrapped his hand with the bandage used to box. He had leftover wrappings since he used to do dirty street fighting when he got dumped from S.H.E.I.L.D's payroll.

He picked up the book that was under his thigh, holding the book open. He held it there since that was where the most light surfaced. He didn't exactly have the expenses to pay the electric bill so he always kept it off.

His eyebrows furrowed ever close as he came across a sentence he seemed to not understand.

The book looked like it shrunk in the size of his hand. His fingers twisted and ran over the cover and the letters on the page fell off onto his lap. The shorts rode up about mid-thigh and engraved their way into his skin.

He couldn't read anymore. He sighed when he read the same paragraph twice over.

All he could think about was being able to talk to Steve. He pushed it into the back of his mind, he carried the book carelessly in his hand, the feeling an odd one since he hadn't read anything for ages.

He walked over to his little place where he slept and laid down.

The news wasn't showing anything interesting. He became quite bored. He wondered if Yori was doing okay.

Maybe he should check up on him even if they weren't on the best of terms. He drifted in and out of consciousness, he played with the wrapping of his hand to try and keep him entertained.

He sat up against his wall observing everything around him how bland and monotone everything was.

He felt a buzz in the pocket of his shorts. He begrudgingly went to grab it. He didn't know who or why they were messaging him. Whoever it knew that it was just for emergencies.

He swears that he was going to murder Sam if he sent him one of the pictures with a caption that never related to the image. Sam said that supposedly there was a joke in the caption but that just made Bucky even more confused.

Bucky didn't know why he kept the phone. He never answers it and usually, he finds out everything he needs to know by watching the news.

When Bucky did finally open his phone to see the lock screen. He stared at it in bewilderment for a long while trying to make sense as to why someone messaged him.

He noticed that it was from an unknown number. That being said there was a one in a million chance for someone to know what his number was. He sighed he was going to have to change his number again. He was surprised what the message was.

"Hey! I had a wonderful time on our date today, I was wondering if we could go on another this week? If not I completely understand I'm new to this..um..blind dating thing. I really enjoyed meeting you instead of talking to a screen! Lol! Anyway, Ttyl!"

Bucky didn’t know how or what to feel. What date? Why was she (he assumed so since the person seemed vibrant and bubbly.) So happy to see him? He didn’t even know who this person was! A thought crossed Bucky’s mind.

Perhaps he could initiate the partner she went on a date with. He wasn’t exactly busy and had a girl on his arm. He realized that if he were to go on this hypothetical date that it would be very obvious that he wasn’t the man she was interested in.

He subconsciously stood up and paced his living room to his kitchen to and fro. The soft glow of his phone illuminated his face in the dark. It was wrapped tight in his metal fingers. The yellow stripes that were like a snake coiling around his arm grew more visible.

He threw his right hand into his hair, his henley slightly rising and showing a patch of skin between the waistband of his shorts and where the sweater laid. It allowed a drooling sight of a teasing view of his defined “V” of his hip bone that flowed below his shorts.

It's been a while since he felt any blood circulate under his shorts. He didn’t understand what this girl did to him but it got him going and that was certainly uncommon under his circumstances of life.

Don’t get him wrong back in his day he was a player. Now it's lessened to nothing. Not even dates, so this could be big for him. He stopped when he concluded. What the hell did ttyl and lol mean? It took an embarrassing text to Sam and Sam merely laughed at him and told Bucky to google it. That just made things worse.

What was google? He went through every single thing on his phone until he found the icon labeled google and he did google it. ‘Talk to you later and 'laugh out loud' Oh. Bucky was embarrassed how long it took him to figure that out.

He sloppily used both of his thumbs and stood in the middle of his living room texting out a reply.

'I'm totally down to go on another date with you, sweetheart."

He was proud of himself since he remembered Sam using the word totally in a sentence before. He was confident that the confidence and the suaveness from his past never left. And then the regret started to hit him with a bat.

Why’d he called her sweetheart? What if she didn’t like to be called that. God how could he be so stupid?! He started to give up after he didn’t seem to have a reply in his future.

He sat down, crisscrossed in front of his tv and his couch, and began to swim ever so quietly in his mind. His eyes burned with strain as he watched the bright screen in front of him. A festival celebrating the new captain he nearly lost his mind until he felt a buzz against his thigh and when he looked down he saw that the mysterious girl messaged him again.

He opened his phone to find three little dots appearing and disappearing continuously. He wondered what she was writing that required that attention to thinking of what she was writing to him. He wasn’t anyone special. He was a natural disaster but that was about the unique thing about him.

He grew impatient and shifted his weight every few seconds. He was very nervous about what she was going to say. He felt like a schoolboy asking out his crush and being afraid of rejection. Lord help him because he missed feeling something other than pain. Then another buzz ran up his arm and under his spine, it was the message she sent. It was short and simple of the lines of what remembered to be:

"..."

Bucky nearly threw his phone across his apartment. But then sucked a huge breath through his teeth when another buzz went through.

"It's just no one has ever called me 'sweetheart' before."

That made Bucky feel like he wanted to crawl into the deepest darkest ice chamber and live there for the rest of his life. This was it he destroyed his life by trying to flirt with someone hundreds of years younger than him. He exposed himself and he could never redo it. He should've known that this was a bad idea.

Technically he did but he just ignored it. How could he be so idiotic to spoil his chances of getting out of this cage of death. This was the epitome of a fish drowning. He was overreacting and hyperventilating solely because he doesn't know how to flirt like the modern age. He was doomed.

His fingers resisting the strength of his mind telling him not to type out sent her the message reading:

"Do you like being called sweetheart or do you prefer doll?"

He swore he died when he saw that he sent that. SWEETHEART AND NOW DOLL? He wanted to take a steaming hot bath and maybe splurge with bubbles and fall asleep and hey maybe he'd drown.

At this point, he didn't think it wasn't that bad of an idea. He put his palms on his forehead, his knees on his thighs staring at the pitch-black rectangle below him. Impatiently waiting for her response.

An on-set headache developing from all the stress he's had under the last thirty minutes. His heart jumped at the sight of the glow lighting up his screen. He quite literally jumped out of his sin to read it:

"You have no idea. It's way better than getting called mama and shawty by the fuck boys. Lol!"

Bucky was now in the crisis of not knowing what was a shawty and an *ahem* fuck boy. It was so worrying the amount of googling Bucky has done just talking to this girl. He noted to never call her..shawty or mama and to never be a fuck boy.

When he did figure out what those things were he wasn't exactly surprised. He was jealous and angry that she'd been called things that she didn't want. The feeling was common but never this strongly. It was an odd feeling it rose from his stomach to his throat and made it dry and hard to speak.

It made him clutch the sides of his phone so harshly that webs started to hatch from within the glass. His eyes cold and dead staring at the screen reading over her sentence once, then ten times over.

A little buzz came from his phone gasping for air from Bucky choking it out with his metal hand. (You wish that was you, huh?)

"I do love how polite and gentlemanly you are tho. It's hard to find guys like you."

Such short sentences made his heart gallop so fast in minutes. The logical side of his brain kept telling him that her compliments weren't for him but the attention for someone was much louder.

Maybe his old ways of flirting were beneficial, which caused him to be more at ease. His tensed shoulders relaxed along with his metal arm. Although his body felt he was burning alive. His free hand pulled his collar off his velcro skin, letting his structured collar bones come breathable. His breathing became shallow.

"It's hard not to be when you meet someone so radiant."

He didn't even know who this girl was but all he knew is that he didn't want to lose her and become utterly alone again. Not this time. His hair stuck to his face. He was going to have to take the coldest shower ever to get rid of her and even that he won't.

"LOL, Speak for yourself, I'm nothing compared to you."

He scoffed and typed furiously, how could she think such things about herself. He was deeply frustrated he didn't know why but he felt very drawn to her. He'd do anything in his power to just want her to promise him that she'd never leave him.

God, he sounded like a psycho and maybe he was. Maybe this was his last straw and when she'd break off he would too. He was so afraid of going back to the way things were to going back to being the winter soldier that he felt like he lost his mind trying to prevent it.

"Alright doll, how about this, we meet up this Friday for dinner and a movie at nine o'clock?"

He was scared that she would reject him. Fuck. She didn't even know what he looked like. What if she took one look at him and saw past his facade and into how broken he was and decided that no. All these feelings are what drew Bucky to stop searching and to think that he was a burden to everyone. Maybe that's why he felt the only place he could be himself was when he knew that he was 100% alone.

He huffed softly and threw his head back against the couch staring up at the ceiling once again. His Adam's apple bobbed as he listened to the soft murmur of the tv. All the world's troubles put onto Steve's back for years and he gets a little tongue-tied and that was it for him.

He needed help. He needed to get better. He laughed softly, his face breaking out into creases of his tanned skin, his lips parting and his teeth glowing against the white flush. He was insane and there was no going back. He laughed at himself for what seemed like an hour until he felt the familiar buzz against his heated skin.

"Hell yes man as long as we watch sharknado!"

Bucky's smile grew more and stretched his face into a radiance that made him look like he did when he was young.

Bucky didn't know what the hell sharknado was but he was glad to know she liked him enough to go on a date with him. Bucky Barnes had a date to go on Friday and he couldn't be happier. He didn't have any nightmares that night but he'd rather have a life-ending one than what he told Yori in the morning.

It was a couple of days after the fight with Yori. Bucky finished the book the day after he read it that's why he was here along with wanting to apologize for his actions at the restaurant. He was currently sat on the wise man's couch. His son's shrine right on the small table in front of him. He bit the inside of his cheek hard and let his eyes fall elsewhere. He was ashamed to have kept this secret for so long but he couldn't find a way to tell Yori.

"Yeah, hey I murdered your son but it was fine since I was brainwashed by wanna-be nazis?" He let out a small nervous laugh and ran a hand through his hair. Yori was going to find out somehow sooner or later. Bucky just hoped it was later. He didn't want what he had with Yori to end because of his past.

"What's worrying you?" Yori said softly as he walked briskly into the living room with a cup of green tea. He sat down on the couch on the right side of the Bucky. Nearest to the door. Bucky couldn't but think Yori was in some form afraid of him since he tested him that night at the restaurant. No one ever tried to test Yori.

Bucky was different. A way that Yori wanted to understand. But Yori saw the trouble of the glass downstairs when he went to put the trash away. The brand was still visible and Yori only knew one person who drank that. Bucky. Yori figured bad things came from it.

Partly the reason since he knew what came after from drunken mishappenings. Yori sat the green tea on the brown coffee table in front of them by Bucky and put his focus back onto Bucky.

"I asked a question," Yori said softly. It seemed that Bucky was in a trance his head downward and his eyes shifting searching for something maybe an answer to Yori's question but there were so many things going through Buckys mind that it'd take months for Bucky to explain to Yori everything.

Bucky looked up to Yori with a smile but in his eyes were nothing but disaster. Yori sat uncomfortably. He was disturbed not once in the few months of knowing Bucky did not smile.

Bucky ignored the question instead "I finished the book you gave me," Bucky spoke with a waver in his voice making him sound unsure. While he reached into his pocket to grab it Yori pursed his lips.

"I didn't want you to read it I wanted you to return it to the library," Bucky's smile faltered and his eyes dimmed even darker than the way they did before. "Oh" is all Bucky said before he put the book back into his jacket pocket. He messed with the wrapping on his hand that Yori took notice of. Bucky was acting odder than usual and Yori couldn't put his finger on it.

Yori took out a scratch piece of paper and handed it to Bucky. In scratchy handwriting, Bucky assumed it was another book 'life on mars.' Then Yori spoke up "Are you going to drink your tea if not I will," Yori jabbed a finger pointing to the white cup. Bucky cleared his throat "I'm not that thirsty,"

Bucky handed over the glass cup to Yori and he glared over to Bucky and he glared back. Yori smacked his lips together after he finished. "If you're here just to have a staring contest with me, then I'm afraid you'll be here for a very long time,"

Bucky readjusted his posture and breathed roughly. "I wanted to apologize for the way I acted at the restaurant. I know I shouldn't have lost my temper at something so minor."

Bucky stopped thinking of words to say he gave up. Yori got up and left the kitchen uninterested in Bucky's apology. His son's portrait started yearning to be alive again. He stared brutally into Bucky's existence. It asked to switch position with Bucky and Bucky swore that he was out of his body and then sucked back in when Yori started to swirl a spoon around the top of the lip of the cup.

"Sugar makes green tea flavorful," Yori sat down when he was finished he swirled it into the now full cup. Bucky guessed he made a few more for later. Yori came back up to the lip and dampened it with tea it made and a remarkably loud song.

Around and around it went putting Bucky into a trance his posture regained to straight and his shoulder back head high with eyes dead. "When my son, RJ, was one he used to sing this song 'a longing rusted freight car coming to an end where it went when the furnace descended.' it was quite a beautiful song when he sang it,"

Bucky heard bits and pieces before his brain went to a mush of the activation words being said in his head. "When he was nine had a tumor and we took him to the doctor but we found out it was benign."

Bucky couldn't hear. He couldn't see. The sky was filled to the brim with stars. The moon brightened and removed his appearance from the trace of a normal eye. He stepped carefully on the roof of the building. His suit blending him into the shadows. His hair stuck to his face closing him in and disguising him more than he already is. He saw RJ through the roof's window. This couldn't have gone more perfectly. He slipped behind one of the paintings and was quiet, his breathing irregular. He heard footsteps and assumed it was RJ and punched through the painting and grabbed tightly onto the neck of the man he mistakenly thought was RJ and tossed him back into the debris of the painting. A man came after him and he quickly threw the knife from the back of his belt and plunged it into the neck of his victim. Another man slammed into the stairway when he flew out of the painting the rest of the men flew down the stairs in pursuit of fleeing the winter soldier. As they shot at him he was faster and killed them first he jumped off the stairs and threw the other spare knife at the man in front of him. An old man grey in the green leather jacket he smashed against the wall even threw metal Bucky could feel the man's heartbeat quickening and then faltering to nothingness. "Hail Hydra'' The last words the man heard as he dropped from Buckys grip to a heap of a corpse in a matter of seconds. Bucky turned to his right and watched the RJ struggle to put the key to escape Bucky. Bucky wanted to laugh at how weak and puny his attempt was to get away; he was constantly looking behind him at Bucky. Closer and closer Bucky's strides were to capture his life. Bucky's shoulder swayed a demeanor threatened with authority and anyone who dared to test it would feel the stupidity of their choice. When RJ started to beg Bucky thought that was all he had in him. Bucky didn't care. He raised his hand and straightened it perfectly matching the hilt to the RJs head.

"I KILLED RJ!" Bucky yelled standing upright. Saliva flew onto Yori when he screamed. Bucky's metal arm was tightly tied around Yori's throat. Yori was in pure terror, his eyes wide, his hands in front of him wrapped around the metal as he leaned back to get away from Bucky as he confessed to him who killed his son.

His mouth was wide in shock gasping for air. Bucky's eyes widened in horror, his mind running thousands of thoughts per second he took his hand off Yori's throat and choked on air. Bucky stared down at his metallic pitch-black hand and then Bucky ran. He ran to his apartment. Hands in his hair pacing kitchen to the living room.

What the actual fuck did he just do? He felt tears brim his eyes and he couldn't believe what he just did. He ruined everything he worked for since Wakanda. His reputation was obliterated just like that in a matter of seconds. His breathing became ragged; he managed to take off his dark black leather jacket and tossed it to the couch.

The black t-shirt he had on raised slightly from his arms being on his head. His wrapped hand tore into his skin making him even more upset from the broken mirror in his bathroom that he still didn't clean up. The memory just kept running itself over in his head he couldn't stop thinking about it. Yori's reaction.

There's no way he'd be able to repair what he did to Yori and he'd had to live the rest of his life knowing how badly he fucked up. He wanted to so badly tear this goddamn arm off with everything he had. He remembered trying the old one off that Hydra gave him it never worked. He still had the deep gashes from his nails where they latched onto his shoulder.

The scars never really healed right, instead of being in the skin, they rose like mountains from it. Bucky clutched his head tightly, his form shaking with tremors. He just kept thinking of the word stupid.

"I, John Walker. Captain America has taken the super-soldier serum and in my disregard, I feel as if there are no consequences and it should be open to the public. And in retrospect of the world, I personally think that Steve Rogers was too soft on his components and since I have taken the serum I will no longer be tolerating the life of the terrorists. That being said I will in no regard will hold back. I will do everything in my power to rid this Earth of the monsters we know until their last god-ridden breath."

Bucky lifted his head from its place hanging down into his hands, his jaw gritted tight, his nose flared, and his eyes full of fury. John Walker. He was going to kill that man one way or another. Bucky was pissed so beyond natural anger that he stood up and walked straight in front of the tv.

This man was beyond no right in having that televised. What he said could destroy the world in an instant. Who or why did he get the serum from? And Bucky was the time bomb? Bucky closed his eyes, his hands turned into tight fists, and let the image of John Walker in an interview with a lady sat across from him at John's old school burn in his mind. The white noise of the crowd cheering John's opinion made Bucky's blood boil.

Bucky thought he had calmed himself until he opened his eyes he saw John look into the camera and point.

"The world would be a better place if there were more brave soldiers like me."

Bucky reared his metal fist back and pounded the tv until the screen was ridden of John Walker's face. Bucky came to the idea that when he got another tv maybe he shouldn't watch the news for a while. Glass fell on the table and pieces on the wood floor by his feet.

He fell to his knees. His knees cracked from all his weight on them with no support. His knees being crushed by the glass. His hands hiding his face from the world.

His cheeks and face grew warm from how he felt. His nose burned when tears started to fall ever so gently down his cheeks. Grey eyes becoming the most vibrant of blues. He choked softly, his throat closing as he sat there in the middle of his destroyed living room. His apartment is the greatest amphitheater in the world.

His shoulders rising and falling and stuttering when he gagged on air. He parted his hands from his face and sat upright. His hands fell into fists, his arms tensed and the veins in his neck pulsed when he let out a blood curdling scream. It was a long screech filled with his voice cracking his vocal cords giving upon him.

His tears despite his yelling still fell and stained his cheeks. He thought so many things at once and everything involved him being a monster. He was hurt and this was the worst self-harm. The arm was given to him and the brain that wasn't his own.

He decided that he needed to go on a walk to calm himself down. Maybe he'd go and return Yori's book. All he knew is that the world for Bucky Barnes was getting darker and worse by the day. Who knows how long until he loses who he is. But one thing was for sure. It wasn't going to be for long until he does.

He stayed home for the rest of that day. It was in the evening when he had gotten home from Yori's. He was still greatly upset by what happened. He couldn't think about it until he grew angry with a suicidal rage. He was alone. All over again the monster that kids are scared to go to sleep over.

He sat by the window again just in the same random shorts and no shirt out of fear of coating it in sweat. It was the least of his problems but it was still a burden. He wished he had something to listen to, his thoughts were so loud that he was surprised that mind readers didn't go deaf from it. He watched the people below him walk past the building complex.

Not batting an eye at the monster in the window above them. He wanted to laugh at how normal people were and how he was once like them but now turned into this creature. His shoulders broad and held his form up by the sides of his sculpted waist.

His legs crossed over another he leaned against the wall that joined the window in the corner. He sat across from the kitchen. His stomach growled at the thought of food, the last time he could remember eating something was at the restaurant and that was just a nibble. It wasn't like he could eat something. He never splurged on food, all the food he had was fruit sitting in a white complimentary bowl on the middle of the island.

He pushed his head against the wall swallowing thickly debating whether he should or not. He decided he didn't deserve it after what he's done. Disrupted from his thoughts he felt a buzz on his thigh in the pocket of his shorts.

He fished out the stupid little box and saw that it once again another text from Sam. He's been ignoring them since he's had Sam's contact; he deemed them not worthy of a response. They were all on the lines of are you okay? Bucky smiled at something so incredulous. He started typing out

Yeah. Just losing my mind but other than that I'm just fine. But went against it. When he read more of the missed messages one did pique his interest. Did you hear about the rumor of Steve being on the moon? Bucky's eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted. What? How could Steve be on the moon? Sam and he literally watched Steve grow old in front of them. How absurd to say that Steve was on the moon. But when Bucky thought more of it, it reminded him of what he read in the book.

Talk to the stars and they'll talk back. Bucky groaned in annoyance. Was this what he was resorting to in a desperate measure for interaction? Talking to inanimate things. He let out a deep breath his chest rose then fell shortly after. He closed his eyes imagining Steve back in Brooklyn and all the mischievous things they did.

He remembered the day Steve got rejected and then Bucky being deployed the next day. The day that started it all. The downfall of Bucky's life. Bucky didn't know what he would say to Steve but he thought he started out well enough.

"Do you remember when we were kids and we'd always have to act like we were soldiers because of you. God Steve even when we were kids you had your mind made up. Always wanting to be something when I couldn't even choose what cereal I wanted,"

Bucky stopped and thought over the words he said. It was true. Steve was always headstrong about everything he wanted. Bucky remembered that Steve was going to create this comic of this monkey who shot bananas out of a bazooka. And Steve did.

It never took off or anything it was just the thought of if anything Steve wanted he would never stop until he got it.

While Bucky always had his priorities elsewhere, the majority of the time he made Steve do his homework so he wouldn't fail. Two opposite people were the best of friends, who knew that one of them would turn out to be the villain.

"You know Steve I enlisted because I felt like I had to prove something, I had to prove that I was better at something than you. Just that one thing I ended up not even being better than you at."

Bucky's voice was dry and raspy when he spoke. The screaming fried his throat when he talked. It burned like a good bottle of Shōchū.

He'd kill for a bottle right now. He was starting to understand that this wouldn't work but he grew angrier at the thought of Steve trading him out for some girl. Bucky knew how much Peggy mattered to Steve but he still never got why he'd trade him out for her. He was jealous in a sense over the life Steve got.

"If I could I would change places with you in an instant, to be at peace. You got to live your life and I had to decay for years without my best friend. Maybe this was for the best so you couldn't see me become who I am now. Someone that we swore to never be ever since we were kids, the bad guy."

Bucky chewed on his lip after that. Til the end of the line his ass. Bucky ran his hand through his hair, the strands comforting his hand. He got up from the window and walked over to his little bed and went to sleep. The night's toll took everything out of him.

The only thing he currently wanted was this thing he had with this girl to be good. How wrong he was.

He decided that he was going to go and return the book Yori gave him. He still hated what happened and he knew trying to fix it would make it worse. The least he could do is get him the book he wanted. So Bucky put on his washed-out jeans, his shirt he wore yesterday, shrugged on his jackets and slipped his feet into his boots, and a black glove to hide his metallic arm, and went to the Library.

The library was a little old place with the roof caving in not far from the complex building. He wondered why Yori didn't just go and get it himself, Bucky didn't really care about having to go but he just wanted to know if Yori was okay and doing well.

Bucky went down the stairs and found a few remaining pieces of the glass bottle he broke last week. The memory of him falling and breaking it etched in his mind vividly. He felt a chill run up his spine at the feeling of someone seeing him like that.

He hurried down the last of the stairs and opened the glass door and went outside. The warm air wafted itself around him in a soft summer breeze. It was warm but not hot enough for him to go without a jacket and the chilly breeze lightened it up. It felt relaxing since he forgot how long it's been outside of his apartment.

He took long strides on his walk. But he couldn't shake the paranoia of being stalked. He was about halfway when he saw a shadow mock him. He walked faster not wanting to have to deal with this today.

The other person's shadow grew larger and bigger as Bucky walked further. When Bucky saw the library and a few he nearly bolted to the building. When he was inside he saw that it was just a lost dog. He was losing it. He sighed his mind relaxing and then jolting when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay mister?"

A warm voice made his heart pump faster than it already was he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. When he turned around he was met by easily the most beautiful girl. It was you. He thought in that instant that everything about you was perfect the way your eyes looked at him, the way your face was adorable, the way your hair fell behind your ears, the way your lips looked the most perfect shade along with your eyes. He promised himself when he got home that he'd paint his whole apartment that color.

He went cross-eyed from staring at the shape of your lips and how they shaped around the words he couldn't hear from being so entranced by you. He started to feel his heartbeat out of his chest. When he thought of how you'd look with pretty lips wrapped around him and dull bedroom eyes looking up at him through thick eyelashes. He needed to stop, he just met you and now he's so hard against his jeans that he was sure that he was bruised.

And your hands on his shoulders shaking him wasn't helping him. His trance was broken when he realized what was happening. "Huh?" That is all he managed to make out through his lust-clouded mind. You did this face that made him die, it was when your eyebrows furrowed and your lips went to one side pursed together. Your eyes were cut at him and he knew he was in trouble but he just couldn't help being enticed by you.

"I asked if you needed help," You stopped and wagged a finger in his way "You're all sweaty." He looked down at himself and you were right, his hair stuck down and his shirt showed pools. Shit. Way to embarrass yourself, Buck. You're sweaty, you're horny for some girl you just met. He was a trainwreck embodied. "I'm okay, it's just the heat," Bucky spoke with uncertainty. He had no idea what was happening why he was acting like this. He usually never felt like this around a girl, especially one he just met.

Your face was still cut, your lips went back into the fullness of how they are naturally. "Weird but okay." You spoke under your breath since it wasn't sweating weather outside. You were going to be the death of him and thankfully there were only a couple of other people in the library since it was the morning of a weekday.

"There's a cool spot where the ac is over there." She turned and pointed towards the left somewhere. He couldn't concentrate in the slightest even if he tried. And god your body from just the standard shirt and jeans you wore he felt his turn into skinny jeans.

"But anyway if you need me just yell, its y/n." And you left and when you walked away to assist someone else he got the perfect view of your ass. He scurried into the thick of the bookshelves and triple-checked if anyone was around him and adjusted himself.

It was so painful to not jump your bones right there. He rubbed his face with his hands and groaned. Get it together Buck. He realizes that he was going to have to go and talk to you again since he had to check the book in. He mentally stabs himself in the neck.

He calms himself down enough so that he could talk to you again. He feels like a prepubescent boy talking to his crush. Bucky guessed that he lost his cool with talking to girls over the years since he stopped. This was hell. You were at the front desk, the one in front of the door. You were reading some book that he didn't know.

He took a moment to admire the way your hair frames your face, the way your ass jutted out so you could lean over the desk on your forearms. Your free hand, the one not holding your page was used as a support beam for your face under your chin. God you were so beautiful, he hooked his finger under the collar of his shirt and started to flick it back and forth to generate air.

He was the human-dog drooling over a mate. He hated himself for not getting to know you and he already felt like this towards you. He was a monster but he wasn't impolite; he drew the line there. He was in the clouds that he didn't notice you staring at him with squinted eyes. "Can I help you, sir?" Your voice hung on sir in his mind.

He couldn't help but envision you beneath him moaning sir. "Uh, yeah, there's this book" He startled himself when his voice croaked out a response. He patted the pocket of his jacket and had a crisis when he thought he left it at home. But when he shoved his hands into his pocket he let out a smile of relief and grabbed it and slid it over to you on the other side of the desk.

"I need you to check that in and then" He stopped and searched for the piece of paper Yori gave him. He found it crumpled as lint in the bottom of his other pocket and the words faded. "Shit, uh, and check out this." He shoved his hands in his pocket and looked at his feet afraid of confrontation. You silently grabbed the book and checked it in and grabbed the note. You couldn't make out a single letter. Your eyebrows pinched together and when he looked up quickly and then darted his eyes away. He knew that you couldn't.

He wanted a sinkhole to open up and swallow him whole. You scratched the back of your neck trying to decipher the note "I can recommend something similar to the book you turned in, I'm sorry but I can't read this." You spoke with sincerity. And walked out behind the desk and poor Bucky followed you like a lovesick puppy.

You cursed Jordan, another employee for putting the desired book on the top shelf. The bookshelves were very tall and you weren't short but you weren't 7' foot either. You pinched your nose shutting your eyes and put a hand on your hip. "Do you see the book at the very top with the red back?" You muttered and Bucky looked up and saw the issue. "Do you want me to grab it for you?" Bucky looked at you with the softest eyes and you couldn't help but admire them.

You shook your head and lord you were about to melt. His body was brushed up against yours, you could've moved but you really didn't. You could feel the texture of his jacket against your soft skin and you cursed yourself for blushing. He took notice and let a small smile creep on his face when he handed you the book and your head was hung low when you walked back behind the desk.

Bucky guessed that he didn't completely lose his effect on girls. When you were checking out the book he noticed the book you were reading. It was The hobbit. He actually enjoyed the book when he read it when it first came out. He didn't take an interest in fantasy and so he shrugged it off until he actually read it.

When you stamped the books inside the page and slid it back. Bucky smirked "You know they all die in the end." The pure confusion on your face was amusing and with that, he left.

When he got home he started to feel the metal of his arm become rusted and thinking back it had been a while since the last time he cleaned it. He was wanting it to fall off so bad that he forgot he actually needed it.

He wondered where the girl went that texted him before. He didn't want to bother her by texting her first that to him was unnatural. It didn't bother him that much since he used to. And that the date was tomorrow so she would either show up or not and he'd suffer the consequences either way.

He went to the bathroom to grab the grease and a rag he uses every time in the cabinet under the sink.

He stopped shortly catching himself in the shattered mirror. The bandage on his chin began to fall off God forbid it started to at the library. He took it off slowly, the hair of his stubble getting caught in the crossfire. There was a bright pink little scar where the gash was. His skin healed relatively fast but it never cured the scars. He figured if his chin was healed that his hand should be.

He unwrapped his hand slowly for some reason he was scared of what it looked like. When he finally finished unwrapping his palm was littered with scars ranging in size. He touched the scars to see if they hurt with his metal hand and nothing.

Just a scar.

Bucky grabbed the grease and took off his jacket and boots and the first time he moved in he sat on the couch.

It was stiff as ever and it never got out of the store phase. He poured some grease on the white rag and it turned brown and he started to put it in the creases where he noticed it too slow. His mind ran back to you that never happened to him. God he was caught red-handed too, he'd have to take a very long and cold shower when he was done cleaning his arm. The rest of the evening all he could think about was what would happen tomorrow and how he'd destroy the girl of his dreams.

Bucky spent Friday constantly checking his phone for two reasons.

1) to see if his admirer would message him and

2) always checking the time.

He honestly couldn't wait; it's been forever and he was excited about something new. For change. The only source of entertainment he had was the book he checked out earlier. It wasn't the book he was supposed to get. The book in contrast was called American Psycho.

Bucky was about halfway and he fairly enjoyed it. Although it disturbed him since he found similarities in himself with Patrick Bateman. Bucky laughed at all the dark jokes and liked all the points where Patrick lost all sanity; it was the highlight of the book.

Bucky flipped one of the knives carelessly in the hand that wasn't occupied by the book. Bucky loved the power a single knife had. A single slip of the wrist could end something as fast as it began. Time flew by when simple hobbies turned into jobs. He cursed himself because it was seven o clock and he had only an hour to go to the restaurant which was the sushi place that he and Yori used to eat at.

He texted the directions to the girl, he grabbed his glove and jacket and shoved the knife in the back of his belt and fled down the stairs and out the door, and ran the rest of the way.

You sat at the small petite table, your phone clutched in your hand carefully watching the time. When it turned to 8:55 your gut twisted. Maybe he didn't like you as much as you liked him.

The waitress came by once again asking if everything was okay and if you'd like to eat and each time and you'd have to politely decline. You crossed and uncrossed your legs, they grew numb from you sitting in the wooden chair for the past hour. You didn't know what to wear so you opted for a sleek white dress and some heels.

You hoped you didn't overdress and make the wrong impression. You sipped on your water looking through the window to find any hint of your lover boy. You knew what to look for since you knew who it was. But maybe he didn't come and you were set up. How embarrassing this was. Yori told you that he was stubborn but he seemed pretty into you at the library. You know Yori through Leah, an employee at the restaurant who was a friend of yours.

She promised you that she would pay for your meal every time you ate there. How could you refuse? You sighed and began to get up and leave since you thought Bucky gave up on wanting to go on the date. You quickly sat down when you heard the bell of the door ring open and then there he was in all his glory.

Bucky Barnes, in the same leather jacket but you couldn't believe how good he looked underneath the dim light. His bandages were now gone and his face was sullen and structured from the shadows that made his face deepen. You smiled your ruby lips catching Bucky's attention and he hadn't seen something so pleasing to the eye in ages. Although he was confused since he didn't know that it was you who he was texting was there something going on that he didn't know about?

He pulled out the chair and sat across from you with his face stern. "Why didn't you tell me it was you that I was talking to?" He spoke slowly and his head tilted in question like a puppy's. "Yori told me about how you are with dating and he was afraid of you always being alone, and he gave me your number, I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

You fiddled with your fingers when you talked you were nervous about his reaction. You knew all about Bucky's reputation and embarrassing enough growing up you developed a crush on him, so you jumped for this opportunity.

You loved how strong and brave he was and even though he was brainwashed you thought of him as a good person. He chewed on the inside of his cheek thinking of what were the right words to say. "Just no more secrets from now on." With that, he waved down the waitress for a bottle of Shōchū.

After the half, the bottle was gone you couldn't help but be in wonder from how he managed to be able to drink all that meanwhile you were still sipping on your first shot. Every sip you took you gagged and your face turned into a kid who took their first sip of alcohol which made Bucky laugh.

Dinner was going along nicely there were many jokes and stories shared but Bucky couldn't help but be skeptical of how this could work. Bucky was severely messed up and couldn't care for another. He wanted to but he was just incapable, maybe he could just live this lie and things could be normal.

When they called for closure Bucky finished laughing at some remark you made, you and he were sat there talking for a couple of hours. It was just so easy to talk to him. Although you did notice a few times he would wince in pain and put his face in his hands. You thought it was odd but shrugged it off from his excessive drinking. Speaking of the devil he asked

"Do you want to go to my place. There have been complications with my tv so we can't watch a movie, but I can keep you company." You smiled a drunken buzz of Shōchū. Not nearly did you drink as much as Bucky but it was still written across your features. Your face flushed pink and your body made of jello hung off of Bucky's arm the whole walk to his house and Bucky every now and then had to pick you up.

Bucky didn't want to do anything rash to you but in the back of his mind, something kept itching it made it so painful that he couldn't ignore it. It kept making him shake his head and wince it was like a headache but much more painful. When he got into his apartment you took notice of what he meant by complications of a totaled tv. You shed off your heels and sat on the tv nervous to be in Bucky's house, your form off-putting to Bucky.

He sat down across the couch from you and he became hurt by you sitting so far away from him. "Are you scared of me or something?" He spoke grimly staring at the floor, his face holding no emotion to his words. "What? no!" You were shocked by his words. How could he assume that you were scared of him? Bucky looked your way and a strange look appeared in his eyes.

"Then why are you sitting so far away from me?" He gritted his teeth and his hands turned into fists, they were clamped tightly together on his thighs and this side of Bucky did scare you. He wasn't Bucky, he looked like him but his whole persona changed in the span of minutes. You wondered if it was something you said or did.

You became fearful when he fell off the couch onto his knees his head clutched in his hands. He started to scream not like the ones before this one was full of pain and torment. The moon's light made this scene unfold a lot more sinister. What was happening to him, why was he acting this way? Then all of a sudden he grew very quiet nothing could be heard other than your breathing.

You were confused and scared but you did care for Bucky and in his position, you assumed he was in serious need of help. You walked carefully taking notice to not step loudly to provoke him. You crouched down your dress falling over your feet, you reached your right hand out hesitant towards Bucky.

You stayed with your hand on his shoulder

"Bucky?"

You whispered softly, scared to disturb him. Everything was at ease at a calm one that felt too unrealistic.

That was true because a few seconds later Bucky grumbled out

"Who the hell is Bucky."

He slung around his body twisted and grabbed a knife from the back of his belt and stabbed you straight into the heart with it. Before you could even have time to run it was over.

The white of your dress now became a soaking deep red. The way your eyes forever open to the moon the way the moon took your life. And that day was when Bucky Barnes lost his sanity and forever came the winter soldier.

*A few months later*

She sat with her legs crossed, her hair tied up perfectly.

Her posture evenly to the ceiling while sitting. The only one that a soldier would perfect. She read over his portfolio over and over to get every last detail to stick in her mind so she wouldn't forget.

She breathed heavily finishing the last sentence. She took off her glasses and shut the case file on her lap, and put her right elbow up on the white seat, her glasses in the same hand.

She pursed her lips staring at the man in front of her and sat on the white couch in front of a forest mural. He was in all black a blank face, his hair a little longer and his stubble now thicker.

He played with the pink protruding scar on his right hand. Pushing and watching the blood rush to it. She wrote that in the notebook.

When he caught notice he stopped and tilted his head slightly. He narrowed his eyes and stared at her.

He was convicted of third-degree murder and numerous accounts of other convictions.

She thought over all the things that were stated in the portfolio but what struck her the most was that he drank excessively and faked being drunk just to feel

"more human."

She thought of a way to form a sentence to not upset him about what he's telling her to see if what he recollected matched what was in the documents but there was no easy way to do that.

She listened to him finish the last of what he was telling her:

"And that's how the story ended."

Fin.

87 notes · View notes

clynnra · 3 years

Text

Strongest Together

After that disappointing last ten minutes of the series finale, I didn't think I would ever write for my beloved boys again. But, thanks to binging lots of episodes of the show on ion since it started airing there (happy to post this story on one of ion's Five-O Fridays) and reading many fix-it fics, I had to do this for Danny. I will be forever bitter that our last glimpse of him ever was hurt (physically and emotionally) and alone on Steve's beach. So this is my way of fixing that sad image. There's background (literally, just a few minor mentions) Steve/Catherine and Danny/others, but this is a McDanno story. I didn't want to vilify Steve, since he should take care of himself and find peace, so I hope that comes across. Finally, eternal thanks to my beta PhoebeMiller for making my story way better than it was with her fantastic feedback about story line, diction, and all the grammar. She's an awesome writer in her own right - go read her wonderful stories! And always thanks to SheppardMcKay for inspiring me to post fic.

Steve and Danny. Danny and Steve. Steve left Danny. Danny was alone.

Sighing, Danny knew he had his kids, his family and the team. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt so fucking much. Days like today, it still hurt to breathe.

Danny didn’t begrudge Steve finding his peace. Or his taking care of himself. Hell, he tried to instill self preservation in his Neanderthal time and again. But when Steve finally took his advice and put himself first, it had ripped Danny’s heart to shreds.

It still hurt so damn much because of the way Steve left. The timing sucked. Just out of the hospital, Danny could barely walk even with his cane. This proved Steve was hiding the depth of his own suffering. Normally, he'd never leave Danny when he was injured. Danny smiled and remembered Steve raiding his house for cookies after he'd been shot in quarantine. The fondness bubbling up just about killed him.

More memories of this year from hell came back, and Danny had to sit down. He'd moved himself into Steve's house after Doris died because he sensed Steve needed him. The loss was just too much after Joe's death. When Joanna had died, Steve was there for him, cooking him eggs most mornings, claiming routine was good. Danny knew Steve was talking about himself, too.

They'd fallen into something Danny dared call a relationship when he was awake late at night, insomnia raging. He and Steve lived together. They ate meals together most nights. They walked Eddie, locked up the house and said good night like a couple.

A couple of idiots, Danny grumbled now. Or was he the biggest idiot? He'd made this huge leap into what proved to be a lonely abyss.

What hurt the most was Steve pretty much rejecting the idea of the two of them growing old together on that beach. Danny didn't know for sure when his best friend would return from his Kung Fu adventures. He'd only counted on Steve coming home at some point. Now, when he replayed their last conversation, the dagger twisted in his chest even more.

The sad fact was - Danny loved Steve. Not just like a friend. He loved him like I want to spend the rest of my life with you even though you drive me crazy, you caveman. He never told Steve he was in love with him. Danny was scared and convinced such an admission would be suicide. Because he feared their friendship would be over, was so sure of it, in fact, that he kept all of his feelings locked away. He didn't want to fuck up the best friendship he'd ever had.

Not to mention, Steve was straight. He'd never given Danny any hint that he was interested. Unless you counted Steve's octopus arms and his total disregard for Danny's personal space. Which Danny did not dwell on. No way could he let himself go there. That's why he'd pushed Steve into dating. First Brooke and then the vet. Neither had really worked out, and Danny did not allow himself to question why. He would have kept on searching for the perfect mate for Steve, too, if he hadn't left. Even though Danny wanted it to be him.

No one knew Danny's secret. Although he mostly dated women, he had a few relationships with men while at Seton Hall. He kept his attraction to men close to the vest. He'd thought his college experiments were in the rearview mirror until the giant goof stole his crime scene.

To distract himself from the heartbreak over Steve’s dating, he’d focused on reconciling with Rachel in a vain attempt to stitch his family back together. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, it just didn’t work since he was in love with Steve. When they finally figured out they were better as friends, Rachel shocked him with advice to stop dithering and tell Steve. He was so taken aback by Rachel’s accurate insight into his heart, past all his bullshit, he’d gone to that bar and met Joanna. Like so many other things in his life, hooking up with her to forget Rachel and Steve had ended all kinds of bad. Spectacular didn't even cut it. Joanna's death wasn't his fault. This he knew. But he couldn't stop feeling guilty. She was with him in the car because of how he'd chosen to mend himself, and she'd died after everything he'd done to try to save her.

And of course, there was Catherine. He envied her for having Steve the way he wanted. She knew every inch of him. She knew so many more secrets. Steve had opened his heart to her - and what had she done? She'd pulled a Doris. More than once. And the idiot took her back.

Weren't they a pair? Danny knew he was a hypocrite for being angry with Steve about getting back with an ex time and again. He didn't care. He couldn't help feeling upset that Steve was with Catherine (probably this very minute) and not him.

+++++++

Three months had passed since Steve left, and Danny’s PT was coming along well. He texted Steve a few times a week to check in, while Steve returned his texts within a couple hours. They’d spoken on the phone a few times, and Danny lost himself in the comforting cadence of Steve’s voice. Their calls ranged from about 20 minutes to almost an hour, and their talks were nice. But during one of their conversations, as he listened to Steve chatter on about what he did in whatever destination he was currently staying, Danny realized that Steve’s journey to find himself didn’t include him. Steve didn’t need him like Danny needed him. And that revelation punched the breath out of him. He tried to cover it, but Steve, with his keen SEAL senses, heard it.

“Danno, you okay?” Steve interrupted his story about what he saw in Scotland.

“Yeah, babe, I’m ok. Just still get tired sometimes. Had PT this morning and energy kinda zapped. You mind if we pick this up some other time? I’m gonna have a lie down.” Danny chewed his lips as he lied. It was a white lie, but still.

“Ok… you take care buddy. I love you.” Steve said with a note of concern.

“You too.” replied Danny. He couldn’t tell Steve he loved him on their calls because he didn’t want Steve to hear how in love with him he was. Texting “love you, too” was fine, but when he said it, he felt his heart in his throat.

Putting his phone down, Danny glanced around himself. He was still at Steve’s house sitting on his couch. Eddie was laying on the floor nearby. And Danny came to a decision. Steve was out finding himself, and Danny really needed to do the same. He had spent so much of the past ten years being part of Steve and Danny that outside of being a father to Grace and Charlie and being on the task force, he‘d kinda lost himself. He felt like his life wasn’t making sense after deciding to just be friends with Rachel and then the tragedy with Joanna. He knew that in order to move on with his life, he had to make a change. He would always be there for Steve, but it was time he was there for himself.

A few days later, Steve called again. This time he was in Ireland. He told Danny about the beautiful scenery there, and after he was done, he asked, “So, what are you up to now, Danno? PT almost done right?”

Danny took a deep breath and started. “Funny you should ask that. I, um, I’m gonna move back to my place, Steve.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Why? Danny, is something wrong?” Steve replied, trying to keep a lock on his emotions.

“No, babe.” Danny grimaced and continued. “I just, uh, think it’s time to move back. You know, you’re out there trying to find yourself and your peace without me…”

Steve gasped, “Danny…”

Shaking his head, Danny kept going. “and that’s fine, Steve. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. You deserve to find the peace and happiness you need. I just need to find myself again a bit. After Joanna died, I felt sorta lost. And I was starting to make sense of my life again before Daiyu Mei swooped in…” He didn’t mention and when you left me. Danny shook that thought from his head.

“So, I need to do this. To remember who I was before I was part of Steve and Danny…” he finished with a fake chuckle.

“Danno, are you sure?” Steve asked, a note of sadness in his voice.

Danny nodded even though Steve couldn’t see him. “Yes.”

There was another moment of charged silence.

“Ok, Danno, I got it. You need this, so I got your back. Whatever you need. Hey, I gotta head out, but I’ll call again, alright?” Steve sounded like he was happy for Danny but wasn’t quite believing it.

Danny replied, “Sure. Bye, babe.”

Steve said clearly, “I love you, Danny.”

“You too.” Danny croaked out. When the call ended, he dropped his phone next to him and covered his face with his hands taking in a few deep breaths.

It was time to find who he was again without Steve.

+++++++

Danny finally completed his eight weeks of PT, and his doctor okayed his return to light work aka paperwork. He still had to check in each month since it was his second gunshot wound in his chest in two years. As part of his process to return to Five-O, the governor mandated Danny to complete visits with his therapist since he survived such a traumatic experience. At first, he was annoyed he had to go to therapy again; he’d rather eat pineapple on his pizza. But during the couple of months of sessions about his kidnapping and near death at the hands of Daiyu Mei, he found himself working through various issues including the death of his partner Grace, his guilt over Matty, his complicated relationship with Rachel, Grace’s kidnapping and almost fatal car accident, Charlie’s paternity and medical condition, as well as other work related stresses and traumas. The governor’s directive for Danny’s therapy was once a week for two months, but he continued past that, and for a few weeks, he was going twice a week. He just unloaded whatever was burdening his mind and heart. He felt stronger for it. He even told the therapist about his feelings for Steve, and she suggested that to find closure or peace about it, he should consider discussing his feelings with Steve. Danny knew she was right but wasn’t ready yet. However, talking things out gave him the perspective he needed.

With the end of PT and his ongoing therapy doing well, he told the kids first he was moving out of Steve’s house. They were shocked, Tani near tears while Junior took the news stoically. But once Danny told them why, they were very supportive and helped Danny move to his now renovated place over two weekends. Lou, Quinn, and Adam also chipped in their time to help with Danny’s move. Since Junior moved in with Tani, they figured out a schedule of who would check on Steve’s place and when including the upkeep of the grounds. Junior and Tani told Danny once he was cleared for regular work, he could share some of the maintenance duties. They'd take care of it for now. Tani joked that maybe they could get Kamekona to hire some of his family. Danny rolled his eyes and smacked her. None of them had enough money for that enterprise.

Eddie was another story. Poor guy was just adapting to his master being gone. Now they were relocating him. Danny decided Eddie would live with him, and Junior would take him as time allowed since he loved Eddie, too. It was a good arrangement, as the loyal dog loved each of them. And he enjoyed the extra attention he was getting.

Danny felt like things were starting to get back to the new normal without Steve while he was at work doing paperwork and running point for any cases from HQ if needed. He surprised himself that he got the hang of the HQ computer table after getting lots of help from the team. Quinn was especially patient, and he appreciated it.

While Danny settled back at work, he still kept in contact with Steve. His best friend would mostly text him to check in with how things were going and send some pictures of gorgeous landscapes and appetizing food. When they did talk on the phone here and there, Steve would catch Danny up on things with him. Danny winced when Steve spoke about Catherine, but tried to sound as supportive as possible. He had to keep reminding himself that if Steve was happy with her, he would just have to accept it. And during one of these phone calls, Danny promised himself that he needed to start dating again. He may be in love with Steve, but he also owed it to himself to move forward and not spend the rest of his life pining after his best friend who was happy with the love of his life.

In a bold move, he asked Adam to be his wingman, explaining he needed to shake things up. He wanted to reclaim who he was before Daiyu Mei and even before his last disastrous attempt to get back with Rachel. What he left unspoken was his need to reinvent himself without Steve.

Adam didn’t even raise an eyebrow and had replied, “You got it, brother. You were there for me when I was lost without Kono, so I’m here for you.”

Danny was so grateful. They went to nice bars, the types professionals patronize. Danny did score dates with some doctors, lawyers, and accountants. He surprised Adam by dating both men and women, but after that initial shock, Adam supported his choices, even offering to set Danny up with friends. He even went on a few double dates with Adam and Tamiko. The companionship was nice, and the sex even nicer, but Danny didn’t feel like any of these people would help him get over Steve. At least he felt like his life was more balanced and not just focused on Steve all the time.

When he first mentioned to Steve that he was dating again, there was a silence long enough that Danny thought the call dropped. He could easily FaceTime Steve but just could not find the courage to see his beloved face again. The phone calls offered distance, a buffer. And Danny needed it so he could continue to support Steve and survive his updates when they included Catherine.

Just when Danny was ready to ask his best friend if he could hear him, an exaggeratedly upbeat Steve jumped back in.

“Hey, buddy, I’m glad you’re getting out there again. You deserve to be happy, too.” His voice cracked on the last bit.

After that last odd tone from Steve, they continued like normal when Danny filled him in on the latest with Grace and Charlie. The rest of the call was pleasant with some of their usual teasing.

But on the next call when Danny mentioned how he and Keith went on a double date with Adam and Tamiko, Steve choked and started coughing on the phone.

“Hey, babe, you ok? Don’t choke on the butter in your coffee, alright?” Danny joked.

Steve got his breath back and said, “Sorry, went down the wrong tube. Wait, so you’re dating guys now, Danny?”

Danny didn’t care for Steve’s tone, but answered, “Well, I did date a few guys back in college, but just stopped once I met Rachel.” He didn’t mention and once I met you. “Is that gonna be a problem for you, Steven?”

Steve quickly responded, “Of course not, Danny. I’m just shocked you never told me this in the over ten years we’ve known each other. And for the record, it’d be hypocritical of me if it was.”

Now it was Danny’s turn to gasp. “Wait, when the hell were you dating guys, Steve? In all the years we’ve been together, you’ve only talked about women.”

Sighing, Steve said, “Well, I didn’t really date guys, Danny. When I was deployed, I helped my teammates out like they helped me. So to be more specific, I’ve had sex with guys, but not actually dated them. I enjoyed the sex and was even attracted to some of the guys, but DADT kept me from being open about being sexually attracted to men.”

Danny couldn’t help himself. “Did Cath know?”

Steve chuckled briefly. “Of course, man. I told her I slept with several men and was attracted to some. She was cool with it since she had some bi friends and family.”

Danny admired Steve’s honesty, and he wanted to be honest, too.

“Steve, dating these men and women - it’s nothing serious. Don’t get me wrong, the company and sex are great, but they don’t compare to you.”

It sounded like Steve sniffled on the other end of the line. His voice was slightly hoarse. “And just so you know, partner, no one will ever replace you. No one can. Hey, we gotta grab some food…”

Danny teased, “Try not to ruin your food with pineapple, you animal. Enjoy your meal.”

Snickering, Steve added, “Copy that.”

Steve’s voice became sincere again. “I’ll call you again soon, Danno. I love you.”

Automatically, Danny replied, “You, too.”

Steve’s breath hitched before saying, “I miss you, Danny. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Danny exhaled, “I miss you, too. Bye, babe.”

Once Danny placed his phone down, he was like, good going Williams. You almost told him you’re in love with him while Cath was right there. Don’t be an idiot next time.

+++++++

It had been a week since that eye-opening phone call and about six months since Steve left, Danny had been back to regular responsibilities at work for about a month. His therapy sessions were twice a month now. He was still seeing people but didn’t feel the desperation to date like when he first started a few months ago. He felt confident in his own skin again, feeling better both professionally and personally. But he was still in love with Steve. Danny finally decided. Fuck it. I’ll always love the maniac, I just have to live with it.

And it came to a head during one of their phone calls almost two months later.

Danny couldn’t keep himself from asking, “You happy with Cath, Steve?”

There was a pause before Steve said, “I wouldn’t know. She left about two months ago on another CIA assignment. She offered to come back when her job was over, but I told her that I need stability and consistency and her work didn’t provide that. I said I was proud that she found her way and happy for her that she loved her job. I told her that I would always love her, but she deserved someone who was in love with her.”

Danny’s heart sped up with hope. “So, what are you saying, Steve?”

Steve pushed air through his nose. “I’m saying that I couldn’t commit to her because I’m in love with you.”

“Steve…?” Danny’s voice shook with emotion.

“Danny, every time I told you I love you when we ended our calls, I meant it as I’m in love with you. You never repeated it to me so I assumed you didn’t feel the same way. But once you told me you dated guys, I got hopeful again. And after that phone call, I stopped sleeping with Cath. And she knew something was up with the no sex but never called me on it. That’s just not what we do. Things are easy for us, and when they’re not, we still pretend that they are. But my heart couldn’t just be satisfied with what was easy and familiar anymore. I needed the challenge and passion. I need you.”

Danny confessed, “Babe, I’m in love with you, too. I just couldn’t tell you since I thought you had your happily ever after with Catherine. When I figured you guys were permanent, I dated to move on without you. But it’s no use, Steve. I want you. I want everything with you.”

Choked with emotion, Steve whispered, “Danny.. I’m coming home.”

“I’m so glad, babe. I love you.”

+++++++

Two days later, Danny was at baggage claim. He spotted Steve immediately, tall and gorgeous with a full beard and short but longer than military regulation hair. Steve saw him too, and his face lit up with a huge smile that crinkled his eyes. They moved quickly through the crowd to each other. As he got closer, Danny spotted the specks of white in Steve’s hair and thought it just made his big goof even more handsome. Finally, they were in front of each other. Dropping his duffel, Steve wrapped his arms around Danny hugging him tightly. He tucked his face into Danny’s hair and inhaled deeply.

“Danno, I missed you so much.”

Danny just squeaked out a “me too” while he hugged Steve. He was too busy inhaling the travel worn scent of Steve. He couldn’t get enough of the man he loved. He rubbed his face into Steve’s chest, reveling in the physical presence he had wanted so much all these months and at long last had.

They moved so their foreheads were resting against each other. Breathing the same air, not aware of the bustle of the people around them.

Danny broke their peaceful bubble by moving his face away so he could look into Steve’s eyes. “Did you find the peace you needed, babe?”

Huffing and licking his lips, Steve shook his head. His left hand held Danny’s face as his gaze never wavered. “Not yet, but I’m working on it. I know I’ll get there with therapy and what I need most.”

Danny tilted his head questioningly at Steve.

“You.”

Then Steve kissed Danny. Eyes fluttering closed, Danny returned the kiss. Like this thing they were doing happened every day.

Feeling a surge of joy, Danny broke the kiss with a smile. Smiling himself, Steve opened his eyes.

“I think I need you to repeat yourself, I didn’t quite hear you,” Danny said with a smirk as he pulled Steve down again. This time, the kiss was firmer. Danny nipped Steve's bottom lip and he opened his mouth. Always the control freak, Steve cupped Danny's face so he could move him where he wanted. He hummed contentedly as he tasted Danny. A couple times, their teeth clacked, but their tongues soothed the minor mishaps. The frantic exploration continued until they needed air.

Eyes opening and panting a bit as their lips parted, they grinned at each other goofily.

“I think we gave the airport enough of a show, babe.” Danny joked.

Steve chuckled. He sobered a bit and said, “Danny, I love you.”

Danny smiled brightly as his heart thudded happily. “I love you, too, Steve. Let’s go home.”

“And where is that exactly?” Steve asked mischievously.

“Wherever you and I are together.” Danny replied quickly.

Appeased, Steve grabbed his bag and slung it on his left shoulder. He pulled Danny under his right arm as they walked to the car.

Danny with Steve. Strong on their own. Strongest together.

FIN.

#H50 #McDanno #Hawaii Five-O #hawaii five 0 #i made this #spoilers #Fic

38 notes · View notes