#which i would boil down to the word Fear. my read on robin is. a situation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yikesharringrove · 3 years

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Agitation (or disturbance of the mind)

Here is my piece for the Harringrove Big Bang!! I’m so so proud of how this piece turned out and I’m so excited to share it! @harringrovebigbang

Read on Ao3 (highly recommended. It’s over 16k).

Special thanks to my beta readers @thinger-strang @crispysteve without whom this story would’ve been scrapped in many fits of emotions.

Art for this story to be linked soon by @thedogsled

Check out this amazing moodboard by @memes-saved-me !!

Enjoy!

Steve Harrington is a liar.

He always has been.

Nearly everything about him is a perfectly crafted facade.

From the story of his family’s move to Hawkins when he was eight, to the smile that slides easily onto his face when he tells Robin I’m fine.

Steve is a liar.

But it's all out of necessity. All for the greater of some good he isn’t all that clear on anymore.

It was always about protection.

Protecting his friends and everyone in Hawkins from the truth about Hawkins National Laboratory.

Then it was about protecting himself from his powers.

From the way his words had a knack of worming their way into someone’s brain. Of setting up shop inside and clanging around until they could do nothing but bow to his suggestion.

Just because he could get his way with the right inflection and the telltale shiver down his spine, didn’t mean that that was okay.

It was drilled into him the first night he arrived in Hawkins.

After his file was stamped with a large red mark that read defective, he was given to one of the scientists and her husband.

The Harringtons.

A normal new family from Eastern Oklahoma.

That’s what they told everyone.

That’s what they made sure Steve parroted to everyone in his brand new school.

His new father took a cigar to the tattoo on his wrist, welting the flesh with an ugly burn. He ignored Steve’s screams and tears.

You have to fit in here, Steven, he had said, the cigar smoldering between his fingers, Steve clutching his wrist, eyes shining with tears. You have to fit in and be normal.

So Steve lied.

He smiled and told everyone he came from a normal family from normal Oklahoma. He said that he lived in a normal house, and read normal books, and played normal sports.

And he tried, and failed, to convince himself the lab was a dream.

“We should do something after this.”

Steve was careful to keep his voice casual. He didn’t want to let Robin in on how much he was dreading returning to his empty house tonight.

Robin didn’t acknowledge him. She was sorting the returned movies, placing them in piles of genre so they could easily be returned to their proper section.

Steve quietly lifted his leg, and lightly kicked her hip.

She glared at him.

“Quit ignorin’ me. Just say yes, or no.” It’s not like if she said no it would crush him or anything. No. It’s fine.

“I just have a bunch of homework that’s all, like, due tomorrow,” she said it slowly, as though telling him a beloved relative had died.

Was it that obvious how lonely he is?

“Don’t worry about it, Buck.” Robin took school real serious. She had perfect grades every year and had already applied to sixteen colleges and universities, including four Ivy League options.

So Steve didn’t blame her for not skulking around with him.

With college-less, nowhere bound Steve.

“I’m really sorry,” she began, getting that sad look in her eye like that night in the mall bathroom when Steve spilled his drugged-out guts. Literally, and metaphorically.

“Nah, I was just lookin’ for something to do. It’s okay, Robin. Really.”

And it was.

Almost.

It’s just that, Steve’s not got a lot going for him right now.

He’s got a big empty house, and a brain that likes to give him excessive nightmares, and one age-appropriate friend in the whole place.

But he doesn’t wanna talk about all that shit.

And Robin looked like there was something on the tip of her tongue. Something her teeth were barely holding back.

So Steve just scooped up the stack of neatly ordered Action films, and made his way over to the far shelf, taking himself out of the situation before it would get to a place that would only make him lie more and more.

Robin means well. He knows she does.

It just feels like a lot of her well-meaning chats end up with Steve lying through his fucking teeth and Robin nearly in tears of frustration at his lack of openness with her.

She feels like being tortured and drugged together gives them a close kind of kinship very few share.

Steve feels like he’s got just too much fucked-up baggage to dump on her.

Not when they’re trying to put the Upside Down behind them.

Not that Steve could ever put it behind him.

He felt something build in his gut. Something hot and heavy. Something that always meant his powers were scraping at the walls of the neat little cave he had shut them in. Something that meant his skin would burn until he unleashed some of his pent-up energy.

He took a deep breath, blowing out the air slowly through his nose.

He had rules to his power. Rules he had given himself, mostly. Things he’d never use his powers for.

He tried to avoid his powers at all costs, but he had seen what could happen if he tried to tamp them down. It was less dangerous to open the lid of the box just a tiny bit.

Especially if he did it right.

He made his way back over to Robin, finding that spot in his brain that made a shudder zip down his spine. The spot that was made of cold and electric heat.

It was always too simple when he let the power take over.

Locate her feeling. Let him consume him.

And then just, twist it as much as he wants.

“Robin,” he spoke slowly, honing his suggestion. “You don’t have to feel bad about not spending time with me tonight.”

He felt her sadness and guilt about the evening recede about as fast as the tide.

She really shouldn’t feel bad about ditching him, especially not when her education is the main priority.

He matched her lazy grin, wiping his nose discreetly, only a small drop of blood smeared against his hand.

The rest of the shift passed without incident, and the roaring feeling in Steve’s gut had been sated enough for the time being.

So he pushed it back out of his mind, and returned to his empty house.

He was saving up to get his own place. He really was. But it was easier this way. He didn’t pay any bills, had lots of space to himself, and a pool in the backyard (that he never used).

And it’s hard for him to explain, but there’s something tugging him back into this house all the time.

He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s the only home he ever knew after the pain and fear that was his childhood in the lab, or if it’s something else that makes him feel tethered to the too-big house.

Sometimes he thought there was a sense of safety in the old place.

With parents that spent excessive amounts of time doing research for things he didn’t understand but was sure were important, it was largely an emotion-free place.

Which was good for Steve.

High emotion situations made his power boil up and spill over the edge like a pot of water on the stove.

A place like his empty house, he could keep everything in check. Not get his feelings tangled with those around him. Not catch thoughts that were just beginning to be molded into something brand new.

He clambered into bed, punching his pillows around in a way that was decidedly not petulant.

There was a steady silence in the old house. A silence that was as depressing as it was easy on his brain.

And there wasn’t silence.

Creaks.

Creaks issuing from downstairs. From the floorboards in the hallway.

Footsteps.

Steve was out of bed in a second, bat held aloft in as close to ready position as he could maintain while bolting down the stairs in his socks and faded green gym shorts.

He knew how to navigate the house without a sound. Practice of tip-toeing around a volatile not-father kinda ended up giving him something useful.

The creaks were still progressing, moving up the hallway from the back of the house, where his parents’ empty bedroom sat still.

The person was getting closer, lumbering slowly as if they were trying to be quiet themselves.

Steve adjusted his grip on the bat, taking proper batting stance, ready for the intruder to round the corner into his section of the hall.

First sign of a person, and Steve would swing.

No questions asked.

The floorboard before the bend in the hall gave a loud sound, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone curse under their breath.

He closed his eyes, and swung.

His bat sailed through the air, and connected with, not an intruder.

And then he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear. A completely feral state of fight or flight made him nearly bare his teeth in an animalistic growl. He felt fear, and dread, and pure stubborn, stupid resolve.

It nearly blinded him, the emotions were so thick and clear.

And then there whooshed out of him, as though being sucked up by a feelings vacuum, leaving him empty and confused.

His top lip was covered in blood.

He had a lot of fucking questions as he stared at the bat, hanging by it’s long nails in the hallway wall, the ominous creaking moving past him towards the stairs.

The footsteps that were caused by no one.

It’s official.

Steve’s lost it.

He’s fucking crazy.

He’s hearing footsteps and voices swearing quietly, and he’s going mad and completely batshit and should be tucked away in a padded room for the rest of his life.

He didn’t even bother to wrench the bat out of the wall as he stumbled after the imagined footsteps.

He clearly needed to get a good night’s sleep, and to forget that anything happened at all tonight.

Billy hates Harrington’s house.

He doesn’t, really. It’s given him excellent shelter while he pulled himself together, and it’s out of town enough to serve as a good base for the little gang of Lost Boys he had accumulated.

It’s just that, the old house likes to make a lot of noise.

It keeps him on edge.

Every squealing door hinge, and every creaky floorboard sets his teeth on edge and makes him whip around in a frenzy, expecting to see a demogorgon snarling at him from the sitting room.

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard the thuds coming from upstairs.

He generally liked to avoid the top floor of the house.

Harrington’s bedroom was up there, and it wigged him out something fierce. He’d only been in the dilapidated version of it one time, his first night in the house he had claimed for safety.

He didn’t intend to stay the night in there, he had just stumbled upon it, and curled up in the bed.

He remembers not sleeping the entire night. He was so scared after coming to in the library, something slimy and disgusting slipping its way out of his throat.

The whole place had been screaming, as though the Upside Down itself was alive. Alive and being horrifically murdered.

He didn’t know what it was called then, all he knew was that Harrington’s house was the first one he came across, and that Harrington’s room was depressingly empty and impersonal.

But, there was a thudding coming from that general area, and if some kinda shitty creature was making its way into the house, he needed to hedge it off before it did any damage.

He took hold of his ax, never far from his side these days, and slipped out of his cot.

The floorboards in the hallway were creaky, and he tried to walk slowly, muffling his footsteps as much as he could in his heavy boots, not wanting to warn the monster he was coming for it.

He cataloged the crew in his head: Hopper had his troop of three in the basement where they were resting up for the supply run tomorrow. Timothy was on nightwatch with his team of five. Billy was in a pack with four others; Heather Holloway, her mother, Janet, and the two boys they found skulking around the library the same night everyone seemed to wake up. One of the boys was called Andrew. The other hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time they’d been trapped.

Billy liked to call him by different names each time he referred to the kid. Trying to get him to laugh. He couldn’t’ve been more than seven years old, and he was trapped in this fucking hellscape with the rest of them.

Andrew was thirteen. Billy didn’t like to look at him much. Andrew reminded him of Max. Which made Billy feel empty and achy in a way he didn’t think was very productive for survival.

But Andrew took a shine to Janet Holloway. Probably missing his mother and needing more comfort than his thirteen-year-old self was willing to admit.

The Holloway women were a hell of a lot feistier than Bill originally gave them credit for, saving his ass in a scrap just as often as he had been there for theirs. Heather and Janet were equal parts caring and soft, with the right amounts of clever and bossy to take point on their team.

Billy let himself be the muscle.

He let himself be the watchdog and attack dog. He took nightwatches and never let his weapons out of his grasp.

Everyone had a role.

And that was perfectly okay.

They had to keep together in this world. They wouldn’t survive it otherwise.

They’d all lost enough people to understand that.

One of the boards gave a hefty creak under his left foot, and he breathed a quiet fuck through his bandana, listening for more of the thudding.

It had stopped about forty seconds before, Billy had counted, and he couldn’t hear any other sounds of something forcing its way inside. Plus, the nightwatch hadn’t sounded any alarms.

He took another step, ax held ready and aloft in case he came face to ugly face with one of the horrible creatures that prowled the night.

He rounded the corner, and there was a loud bang on the wall next to his head.

He jumped as paint chipped off the wall and flew all over him.

He was hit with a feeling of intense fear, and adrenaline rush that caused all the blood in his ears to rush. He looked wildly around, seeing, nothing.

Billy bared his teeth, ready to go down fucking swinging.

As long as he took the fucker down with him, that’s all that matters.

Save the rest.

And he stood, ready to fight, ready to die.

And there was nothing.

Nothing in the hallway. He was all alone.

None of this shit made any sense. He hadn’t dreamed the wall cracked beside his head, and looking back, there were holes in the wall, and a big dent that had splinted the white paint and drywall beneath it.

There was some fucked up shit going on, and Billy didn’t like it one bit.

He continued down the hall, creeping to the stairs to check the original source of the noises that had woken him up.

Harrington’s room was pretty much just as he remembered it from that first night in the house.

It was sparse and sad-looking. The covers on the bed were all jostled and thrown around, the horrible spindle-like vines covering nearly every surface in the room.

They had cleared the tendrils in other rooms, cutting them and burning them back, ensuring the vines didn’t start creeping over them when they weren’t looking.

Billy didn’t fancy being covered and tethered by the slimy black vines. He was pretty much over all this Upside Down shit.

He took a cursory look around Harrington’s room, not noticing any signs of forced entry from a creature, really nothing was out of place.

The meager school trophies on the bookshelf next to the closet looked rotted and tarnished, just like everything else in this absolute hell called a parallel universe. There were few pictures in this room, much like the whole house. It had taken Billy a long time to notice the lack of inhabitancy the house had. The way it seemed to feel so cold and empty, it would be that way in the real world too.

His eyes swept over the dilapidated dresser, cataloging the room quickly for anything that should worry him.

Billy deemed the whole scene safe, and made sure to close the door tightly as he retreated back downstairs.

Steve’s going fucking crazy.

He was still in bed, his alarm clock ringing angrily at him as it had for the past six minutes.

He hadn’t slept at all last night.

Something just felt. Off.

The feelings in his chest were scrambled, and they felt foreign to him. Like he had taken in somebody else’s emotions.

But proximity was the key to his power, and he was alone. Alone alone.

Like, the closest person was Mrs. Gardfeld in the next house, all the way across their combined, much too big, yards.

It felt like. It felt like someone was in the house with him. Someone was in the house with him, and they were scared, and stubborn, and tired, and a flurry of things that made Steve feel ill.

And he couldn’t push them out.

He couldn’t find the chasm between this slew of someone else’s shit, and his own messy cocktail of feelings.

The other feelings were like those awful vines in the tunnel. Snaking around under his feet, wiggling up his ankles and keeping him stuck in the mud. Wrapping around his own emotions and squeezing until they just merged into one.

He’s lost the metaphor.

Doesn’t matter.

His feelings are fucked and his brain is fucked and his day is fucked.

And he has to work a double at Family Fuckin’ Video.

He found his way out of bed. Not going very far, just standing next to his warm nest of blankets, debating getting back in and hiding for the rest of his life.

He was going to be late for work.

He didn’t really give a fuck.

Keith would be all smug and probably make some remarks about Steve not even being worth the less-than-minimum wage he was making.

He took a shower, not so much cleaning himself as letting the lukewarm water cascade down on him and hope it got rid of the stench of sweat and anxiety and bad sleep that was clinging angrily to his skin.

His brain was empty.

Empty save for the pounding otherness that were these horrible fucking feelings.

Robin didn’t even have the heart to call him out for being nearly half an hour late.

“You look like shit.”

No, she just called him out for looking like shit.

“Y’know, it’s really wonderful to have such a caring and thoughtful friend in these trying times.”

She rolled her eyes. He always told her one day she was gonna get stuck like that. With her eyes permanently fixed towards the ceiling in exasperation.

“Drop the attitude, Steve Harrington. Just because you didn’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to suffer.”

Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was joking. Steve just clenched his jaw and stared at her blankly. Either she would get mad at him, or sigh and roll her eyes.

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

Bingo.

She wasn’t actually mad at him.

“You okay?”

“Jus’, some weirdness. Bad vibes.”

He couldn’t give her more than that. Couldn’t say I can feel someone else in my house and I don’t know if someone is hiding in my house or if I’m going crazy, oh and by the way, I was one of those freaky lab kids and I can manipulate and feel people’s thoughts and emotions, by the way.

That’s too much for a slow shift on a Saturday morning.

That’s too much for really any time of any day.

No, Steve fully plans to take all that shit to the grave. Like a real man, his dad would say.

“Well, if you could take your bad vibes back to rewind duty, that would leave all the good vibes up here to me.” She shooed him off with her hand, landing a quick slap square on his left asscheck when he groaned and dragged his feet dramatically on his way to the back room.

Not that Steve would ever actually complain about rewind duty. Steve preferred doing it to anything else in the place. Especially re-shelving. That was just asking for someone to come ask him for a movie recommendation. Steve only watched the same five campy old westerns and when he recommends any of those, people seem to wanna get out of his face right quick.

No, rewinding was dull and monotonous and solitary, all the shit that Steve really needed on a day like today.

There was a strict routine and he didn’t have to think or do anything.

Just sit. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. Put in re-shelve bucket. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. And again and again and again until all the tapes were ready to go.

Hawkins tended to take out a lot of movies on the weekend. Not much else to do when you aren’t sixteen and ready to hit up any party you could possibly weasel your way into.

So, Steve had about fifty some odd tapes to rewind from the past few days and he was feeling benignly excited about sitting in the small room for most of his shift.

It was easy to pass the shift like that.

Sitting with the quiet whirring of the tapes being tracked back to the beginning. Not having to deal with anyone’s thoughts except his own tedious ones about when he should take his lunch break and reminding himself to check the TV Guide for anything good tonight.

It was an odd emptiness that took hold of him throughout the day. And he almost felt, well.

Lonely.

He almost felt lonely.

Which is fucking bonkers because that horrible feeling of someone else had well and truly fucked him over last night, and well into this morning, but he kind. Missed. The other presence.

He’s officially crazy.

Someone find this boy a padded fucking cell because Steve Harrington has officially gone all kinds of batshit bananas wacky.

He’s feeling lonely because the horrible not his feelings of fear and anger and betrayal and desperation aren’t clogging up his little brain sink. Even when they were, the brain sink was threatening to burst and leak all over his brain kitchen.

Or something to that effect.

He let his eyes unfocus, watching Jaws at double speed and backward for the fourth time that day.

There was something about the foreign feelings he just couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

Something twinging in the back of his brain, screaming at him to open his eyes and pay attention.

But that’s never been Steve’s strong suit.

“Stupid. Fucking. Vines .”

Hopper muttered to himself a lot.

It was usually too muffled underneath his own bandana face covering and the hefty beard he had been sporting to discern whatever he was thinking, but it’s not like hating the awful black tendrils of gross plant/monster/everything-that-made-up-the-Upside-Down hybrid of vine-ish tentacles was something that just Hopper experienced.

It was a sentiment they all shared as they hacked away at the new growth in the dilapidated Bradley’s Big Buys.

They had already ransacked the general store five times over, and took as much as they could salvage from the wreckage of the other-dimensional mall.

Supplies were needed, and they had to be smart about it.

Things had been quiet lately.

Not many beasties out and about since the night they all seemed to come to.

Hopper had said something about the gate closing and the brain being cut off from the body.

Billy hadn’t listened.

He’d been scared off his ass and all that had really registered was clear for now.

So, they made supply runs. And poked around town for any survivors left to take back to Basecamp Harrington. Only Billy called it that.

They had the runs down to a system.

Pry away any vines they could, burning them back as they went, making enough room to slip into the bargain store, gather as much canned food and grimy medical supplies as they could manage, and book it back to the relative safety of the big house on the edge of the forest.

Nobody talked about what they’d do when they ran out of supplies. When they’d exhausted their resources and were stuck with nothing but the vines on the ground and the spores in the air.

Billy got it.

It’s not like he wants to hear he’ll probably die of starvation and/or a gangrenous infection before he’s eighteen.

They just. Make do.

Ration food and keep each other safe.

Always thinking about the minute they’re in and the minute coming up. Not looking too far forward.

There’s nothing to see too far in the future.

Billy crashed the blunt end of his ax through the sliding door at the front of the store, clearing away as much as he could.

Janet and Andrew would slip inside first go, taking as much as they could carry with them. Next round, Heather would take the little one and gather anything left.

Billy would keep watch.

He always kept watch.

Things had been too good for too long.

After the first wave of those who didn’t make it, the whole broken side of the Earth was too kind to them. Not sending horrible fleshy monsters to nearly suck out their very souls.

Billy didn’t think this could last for much longer.

Heather took the little one by the hand, rushing past her mother and Andrew as they returned with their supplies. Billy did a quick scan of them, noting no new injuries. Nothing out of the norm.

Supply runs were choreographed down to the minute.

Should the group not return in forty-five minutes, a search team was sent out.

The small group trudged back to the Harrington safehouse, keeping in the shadows, not a single one of them daring to speak. Billy walked slightly behind the others, never letting himself relax for a single second.

Things were too quiet.

The feeling hit Steve over the head like a sack of bricks being whacked against his skull.

Walking into his home was like walking into a stinking den of fear and anxiety. The air was clogged with so many emotions Steve felt like he was choking on them, slowly being crushed under their weight.

Whoever was emitting all these, Steve felt sorry for them. He can’t imagine living with this much bad energy taking up space in someone’s brain. He could barely cope with his own terrible bullshit. He doesn’t know how someone could cope with this.

He tried to move through his evening to the best of his ability.

He nearly set the house on fire when he left the tin foil covering on his frozen meal, causing the microwave to spark angrily at him, the potatoes underneath the corner of foil that had nearly caught fire to smolder and blacken.

Even in the shower, the water as hot and steamy as he could stand, he felt that prickle he couldn’t get rid of.

Like if he could just close his eyes and reach out far enough, his fingers would brush someone else. Someone nearby.

He’s felt it before. That there was a person just out of reach. A person he could feel clear as a bell, but couldn’t alter. Couldn’t manipulate. Just had to experience everything that was going on inside and try to hold on for the ride.

He wore headphones to bed, blasting a mixtape Robin had made for him last month. Something with a lot of heavy guitars and girls wailing about society.

He doesn’t think it was all that good, but it helped. Helped him feel like maybe the person wasn’t seeping into his own soul.

And the whining synth of Patti Smith finally let him get some goddamn sleep.

“Hello?”

It was his house.

But it wasn’t his house.

It was a blank void. It was nothing. It was nowhere.

But for some reason, his brain kept telling him it was his house.

“Harrington?”

It was Billy. Hargrove.

But it wasn’t Billy.

He was dirty, covered in soot and horrible black sludge that made Steve’s stomach churn.

“Why are you in my house?”

Billy looked around the blank void all around them. Water sloshed on the floor, lapping at Billy’s black boots. Steve observed his own toes.

He was barefoot, but he couldn’t feel the water.

“This is your house?”

Steve didn’t want to explain.

“You’re dead.”

“Could be soon.”

Nothing Billy said made any sense. But then, Billy never made much sense when he was alive, either.

He was an enigma to Steve. A big question mark all wrapped up with a gorgeous face and perfect body.

“Where is this to you?”

Why was Steve’s brain so adamant on declaring this place his house?

“Somewhere safe.”

So.

That’s something.

Dreaming about Harrington.

Not necessarily something that Billy wanted to have happen to him while he was experiencing the worst possible time in his life.

Or maybe he did.

He’d said it in the dream.

Somewhere safe.

It’s what he felt in that blackness.

Safety. Warmth. Hope.

All the shit he hasn’t felt since he opened his eyes in the rank-ass library.

That darkness was like a harness, keeping him grounded to something real. Tucking him in gently at night and kissing him on the head.

It made waking up that much shittier.

Knowing he’d be on nightwatch with Heather and Janet tonight, he used resting up as an excuse to lay on his cot, hardly moving in the clouded air.

He needed to process.

There was something so fucking weird about that dream.

It felt real in the moment, and he didn’t question anything that had happened.

Why there was water on the ground at his feet? Why Harrington was there wearing pajamas Billy could only describe as skanky? All of this made perfect fucking sense to dream Billy.

Awake Billy, had some fuckin’ questions.

Mostly, those previously listed. As well as: what the fuck?

He blames seeing Steve specifically on being in his house. That makes sense. You tend to think about a guy quite a lot when you’re living in the broken shell of his family home. He blames seeing Steve in those itsy-bitsy shorts and a homemade cropped t-shirt on the well repressed sexual interest he refused to admit he felt towards the guy.

All that made sense.

But everything else.

Steve said he was dead.

Was he dead?

Was this Hell?

Purgatory?

He’s read The Divine Comedy, and this doesn’t quite match up with any of the shit Dante waxed on about.

And dream Billy didn’t think that was a weird thing to say to someone. To accuse them of being dead. He just said could be soon and then acted like that was a normal fucking response.

His head was spinning out of control.

The only thing that made sense was when Billy said they were somewhere safe.

Because, they were.

Even in the void place, he knew they were safe.

There was a small tapping sound on the wall next to the open door frame.

The door had long since rotted right through.

“Miss Janet sent me to see if you’re alright.”

Andrew was always calling Janet Holloway Miss Janet.

It makes Billy wonder if manners like that were beaten into him by a father like Neil.

He hopes not.

He likes Andrew too much for that.

Andrew hovered around while Billy swung himself out of his cot.

He changed out the bandana over his mouth and nose.

Most of them slept fully dressed, even with their shoes and socks still firmly on their feet.

You had to be ready to go at the slightest sound of Bad in this place.

Plus, everything was so goddamn dirty, what’s a little mud in the sheets in the grand scheme of things? And the rancid rotting smell of the Upside Down did wonders to cover the smell of body odor.

Billy followed Andrew down the L-shaped hallway, to the sitting room where he found Janet and Heather huddled together on one couch, the little one between them.

“Apparently something happened on the run last night.”

Billy’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t make out Janet’s expression under her face covering. The little one got up from his spot on the couch, standing in Billy’s shadow. He liked to do that. Billy figured he felt safe behind someone so much bigger and stronger than him. Someone with a big fuckin’ weapon that was never too far away.

“Who’d we lose?”

“No one. Everyone’s okay. Hopper just called all of us for a discussion, then went to the basement.”

The basement was Hopper’s domain with his little chunk of the crew.

He had found some busted up H.A.M. radio from somewhere he refused to explain, and spent all the time he wasn’t watching over his shoulder for threats or gathering supplies from smashed grocery stores, trying to fix it up, tuning it to different crackling stations, and yelling into it.

El. El, I need you to copy if you can hear me. El!

The pillow was a mess of blood the next morning.

It was congealed and cracked and tacky against his face and made the pillowcase stick to his cheek and his bloody upper lip in a way that kinda made Steve wanna puke a little bit.

His nose had bled in the night.

He never got nosebleeds.

Unless he used his power.

And that dream.

That blank void space and that mucky scraggly Billy lookin’ like the hunky star of some apocalypse movie.

Wait.

Blood forgotten, smeared on his face and neck, Steve tossed himself towards the phone on his nightstand, smacking his shoulder against the wooden corner and tumbling to the floor, his legs still tangled in his sheets on the bed.

He couldn’t deal with anything, snatching the phone up and punching in the only number that was grinding through his head.

“ Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up, ” he muttered into the receiver.

His upper body was still flopped over to the plush carpet, legs twitching and shaking on the bed with his anxiety.

He’s had some massive fucking realizations and he needs backup.

“This is the Byers.”

“Put El on the phone.”

“Oh. Steve’s covered in blood again. The Upside Down must really be back,” Dustin said in complete monotone as Steve opened the door.

Steve couldn’t give less of a fuck right now.

He felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough, all coming in the neat package of a major breakdown.

He felt manic and shaky and so what if he forgot he was covered in the aftermath of a superpower-nosebleed-explosion?

“Shut up. Just get in.”

El had rallied the old troops from St. Paul, calling everyone at the ass-crack o’fuck in the morning and saying something about catching some weird Hawkins vibes all the way from Minnesota.

It was a fucking weak excuse, but explaining the whole Steve situation was just not really in the cards today.

He’s got an agenda and they need to stick to it.

Robin said she’d gather Max on the way to Steve’s place, and Nancy was probably hauling Mike and Lucas over faster than a speeding gun or whatever that expression is, so all Steve had to do was get his story straight.

“And maybe you should think about putting on a clean shirt? At the very least. I’d say, maybe just start over. Take a shower. Powerwash your face, even.”

“When the fuck did you become sarcastic ?”

“Right after you became friends with the coolest chick on the planet and then decided you’re too good for her.”

“ Chick. Don’t call Robin a chick. And I’ve told you, we’re just friends. I’m not too good for her.”

Really, Steve thought she was too good for him.

Well, that, and there’s the whole part where she’s super totally not into guys at all.

“So, what’s this all about, anyway? Mike said on the phone that El called him and left a really cryptic message.”

“Look. She called me to explain and ask if everyone could meet here,” Steve lied. “I’ll give you guys a recap once the rest of the gang shows.”

“But she thinks there’s something going on with the Upside Down? Again ?”

“I think she knows there’s something going on with the Upside Down.”

The more Steve sat with the memory of how Billy looked in that dream, the more he was certain of where he was.

Billy had been ratty. His normally perfect hair was long and limp, greasy on top and matted around his face. He was sporting a patchy beard, nothing like the fuckin’ pornstache the guy had been rocking all last summer.

And he was filthy. Covered in grime and dirt, and Steve’s sure if he’d looked harder, he would’ve seen traces of that viscous black goo that only meant bad news.

There was a squeal of tires, an alarm signaling the arrival of Nancy in her mother’s station wagon, toting her brother and Lucas.

“I’m in this now, Lucas Sinclair!” came Erica’s voice from the entryway.

Steve was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Erica, you accidentally found out about all this!”

“So did you!”

The Sinclair siblings’ bickering was only cut by the sound of the Wheeler siblings snapping at one another in turn.

“Am I the only one that thinks it doesn’t make sense to meet up this early? El and Will are like, seven hours away!”

“Mike! It doesn’t matter. We all have to talk and figure out what’s going on.”

The sounds of arguments all quieted abruptly as the four people rounded the corner and caught sight of Steve.

“Oh, Jesus. Who kicked your ass this time?” Mike snipped at Steve.

Oh, yeah. He keeps forgetting he’s covered in his own nose blood.

“What? It’s nothing. I kicked my own ass. Just take a seat.”

“I told you to-”

Steve didn’t wanna hear it.

He loves all these people, but his head kinda felt like it was full of mushy jelly and runny pudding and all the loud talking wasn’t doing much to help.

He stepped out onto the porch, snagging the pack of cigarettes he kept stowed in the flower box next to the door.

It took two to finally tame his nerves any.

Sitting there with all the people in his house waiting for an explanation, he kinda felt like his haphazard plan was shit and going to fall through immediately.

Just tell them El called. Tell them she saw Billy in the nowhere place and she thinks he’s alive. Easy as pie.

The tell-tale sound of a skateboard making its way closer and closer announced Max before he saw her.

Robin was pedaling next to her, helmet lopsided on her head and not buckled underneath her chin.

They were talking animatedly to one another, their laughter dying as soon as they saw Steve waiting for them.

“Fuck. So this is real.”

“Why does everyone think I got the shit beat outta me?”

“Your ass gets creamed every time some spooky shit goes down in this place, Harrington,” Max informed him.

She was a little Billy replica, all the way down to the way the corner of her mouth twitched up when she said his name.

It would’ve been sad. The way she tried to become her brother after losing him so violently last summer.

But something like relief settled into his bones, strong and real and wait ‘til I tell her Billy’s not dead and he was laughing. Curling in on himself cackling so hard his stomach had already begun to get sore

“Fuck. He’s lost it,” Robin sighed, ditching her bike next to Dustin’s and heaving Steve up, both hands underneath his armpits.

Nobody dared speak.

“And you’re sure? You’re positive you heard one of those things?”

Janet had her arms twisted over her chest, her jaw tight as she watched Hopper’s every move.

“It’s not really a sound you forget.”

Billy’s hand was shaking, he was gripping the ax so hard.

“So, we’re fucked,” Angela said harshly. Her cold voice sent ice down Billy’s spine. “If those things are back, we don’t stand a fucking chance.”

Hopper scrubbed his hand over his brow, sighing through the cloth over his mouth and nose.

“It just means I have to try harder. I can get to El, I know I can.”

Hopper said that a lot. But he never explained what getting to El meant.

Heather had explained she met El once, but she said it was weird and she only saw her like some kind of shadow, a figment in this dark empty place. Somewhere as cold and broken as the Upside Down felt.

The little one was leaned up against Billy, his left hand balled in the edge of Billy’s leather jacket. He stood like that a lot. It was grounding for Billy. Kinda like holding Max’s hand when she was young and still thought he was the coolest person she’d ever met.

“But, you only heard something, right? So it very well could be nothing.” Timothy was good at keeping mediator. He always kept a level head and talked slowly and calmly. They needed someone like him in this nightmare.

“They make this noise. This kind of wet chirping. Like this gurgle that just sounds like they’re watching you, ready to pounce out at any time, shrieking and attacking. It’s not a sound you forget.” Hopper had this horrible haunted look on his face, and Billy fucking believed him.

“Then we up nightwatch. Stick together,” Billy offered. He never usually piped up with strategy, but that’s the best he’s got, and frankly, he thinks it’s the only way they’d all be able to make it through.

“Exactly. We move in a pack now. Keep track of everyone together, and stay aware of what’s around us. I think we should do a major run and then lock up for a few days to see what goes down.”

Hopper leaned back in the ratty armchair he was taking up, looking around to see if anyone challenged his ideas.

Billy had given up his alpha male attitude the second Hopper yanked his upper arm and nearly screamed at him, asking Billy if he was ‘one of the flayed’ all while aggressively checking him over for injuries.

First time any of Neil’s lessons actually sunk in.

Respect and responsibility.

If that fucker could see Billy now, doing nothing but respecting authority and taking responsibility for all these peoples’ lives.

“We should rest up. Take a run tonight. Get a lay of the land,” Timothy said with an air of finality. Nobody argued.

Hopper nodded.

Everyone broke out from the Harringtons’ living room, milling around to get prepared for tonight’s run. Taking stock of what they needed to keep going for the next few days.

Billy was itching to slide back into his cot and try to seek out that space if he can. The empty space where Harrington and that warm feeling of safe existed.

The little one stayed clinging to his jacket, and Billy took a loose hold of his wrist, trying to provide some kind of basic comfort to the tiny kid.

“You wanna go raid the cabinet?” The kid stared up at Billy with big eyes. Billy could never tell what color they were in the gloom. He thinks maybe green.

The cabinet was a large door, built into the wall of the sitting room, and clearly where the Harringtons kept their games.

They had these excruciating couple thousand-piece puzzles, the pictures peeling and faded on the pieces. They had Trivial Pursuit and backgammon, and all kindsa shit.

The little one went and pulled out the checkers board. That was the only game Billy knew how to play anyhow.

He and Max used to sit for hours, playing with this dinosaur-themed checker game Max’s dad got for her one birthday.

It helped, playing a game. Helped pass the time. Help bait the anxiety.

Helped them all feel a little bit closer to human.

“I don’t. Get it.”

Apparently, Nancy was not the only one, if the blank stares Steve was receiving from around his living room were anything to go by.

“Yeah, why did she call you ?” Mike’s snitty tone was really grating on Steve’s fragile nerves.

“She said, she called to make sure everyone could come over here before she told you all to just show up this early on a Sunday morning and then she kinda explained what happened.”

Max was white as a sheet, tracking Steve like he was playing a horrible joke on her.

“And she saw Billy. Billy Hargrove .”

Steve nodded at Dustin.

“Why does she think he’s in the Upside Down?” Robin asked, perched on the coffee table, sitting closest to where he was standing nervously.

“She just knows .”

It was frustrating, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation without just spilling his guts.

He rubbed absentmindedly at the cigar burn on his wrist.

“I just don’t believe this. I talked to her three days ago, and she’s still having trouble with her powers. She can barely move a book, and hasn’t been able to get to the void since July, and you’re saying she accidentally saw Billy Hargrove, who we all saw murder a bunch of people and then get killed -”

“Shut up! He wasn’t himself!” Max shrieked out over Mike, the only time she’d even opened her mouth since Steve had mentioned her stepbrother’s name.

“Even if he is alive, El couldn’t have seen him! It doesn’t make sense!” Mike’s voice rose over Max’s, and Steve has a fucking headache and he’s over it.

“It was me! I had a dream. I went to the void. I saw Billy in the Upside Down. I called El to say she saw him.”

Everyone went dead silent, staring at him.

“Steve,” Robin began, searching his face.

It was like all the wind that had been filling up his sails, powering his energy ship, had suddenly quit blowing.

Steve was tired.

He sank to the floor, crossing his legs where he sat.

“I need you all to shut the fuck up for a moment and let me explain, because I only wanna say all this shit once.” He covered his bloody face with his hands. “I’m like El.”

That statement hung in the air for a moment.

And then there was a roar of noise.

“How could you keep this a secret?” Dustin shouted.

“Not in a million years !” Lucas decided. Erica yelled something back at him, vaguely defending Steve, which was nice.

“You mean you came from the lab?” Mike had a look on his face like he’d swallowed a particularly bitter lemon.

“Everybody, shut the fuck up!” Max roared, glowering at each person until they were silent again.

In all this Robin hadn’t said a word. She was pale, staring at Steve.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into it because it fucking sucks to think about,” Steve still hadn’t uncovered his face. “But yeah. I was in the lab. I got out because they decided I was a failed experiment. My mom worked at the lab and she took me and we pretended like the three of us moved here from Oklahoma and my dad told me never to tell anyone. And I haven’t. Didn’t even tell El. She recognized me from then. Don’t even know how, I left when she was like, three. Doesn’t matter. I’m a freaky lab kid and last night I fell asleep and saw Billy in that-what’d you call it? The void? Yeah, I saw him, and he’s covered in dirt and gross black Upside Down shit, and he’s fucking stuck there, and now we’re here.”

There was another silence.

Steve didn’t dare to look at any of them.

He didn’t want them to laugh in his face. Tell him he was making all this shit up and leave him alone to deal with Billy trapped somewhere else.

He wanted them to take his word for it. To quietly believe this crazy fucking shit of a story because the scared other feeling was back and clawing at his spine and making him want to burrow into the ground and find somewhere safe and secure and-

“Okay.”

Of course it was Robin.

It was always Robin.

Steve let himself look at her.

She was pale, but she was smiling at him.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Steve nodded once.

“Okay. Uh, great.”

“Wait, if you’re defective, no offense, then how did you see Billy?”

Steve stared at Max weighing his answer carefully.

“Because, well, the defective thing, that was all, I didn’t mean to, that was before I really understood what I could do. Don’t get me wrong, it really worked out, but it was an accident.”

“Spit it out, Sailor Man.”

“ Erica .”

Erica just rolled her eyes at Lucas.

“Okay. Uh, before I explain, just, just keep in mind that I have rules, and I don’t use my powers if I can avoid them, and I’d never use them to be a creep, but-”

“Steve!”

“Fine!” The words were right there, ready to tumble out of his mouth and ruin his life forever.

There was no going back after this.

The second they knew, everything would be different.

“I can feel other peoples’ emotions and, like, change them.”

Another silence.

“I don’t understand.”

Nancy was the last person he’d ever want to have this conversation with.

He knows what she’s thinking. He knows that the great anger brewing inside her is because she assumes he made her like him. Made her attracted to him.

Made her want him.

“I don’t use it like that. I would never, put something there that shouldn’t be there. It’s just, When someone feels something near me, I can tap into it. Let it become my own feelings. And then I just, change it. Just a little.” He cast around for a harmless example because so far, everyone was staring at him like a goddamn creep. “Robin!”

She startled slightly when he yelled at her.

“Okay, so Robin. I’d never, ever make you feel something not true to you. Like, I’d never make it so you were into me when you’re totally not, right?” He cast a glance at Nancy. “But, like, the other day, when you felt really shitty when I invited you over and you were studying, I just, I made it so you wouldn’t feel bad. I felt all this guilt you had for leaving me alone when you thought I was having a shitty day, and I made it so you didn’t feel guilty because you shouldn’t. That’s the kinda level I allow myself to work on.”

The look Robin was giving him was breaking his fucking heart.

Worse still, was the feeling of betrayal that began eating away at her.

“So, right now. You can tell what we’re all feeling?” Even Lucas, ever the level-headed one, couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I don’t want to. I don’t try to, but I can’t really avoid it. I just try to ignore it. But sometimes, sometimes if I bottle it all up for a while, it comes crashing out of me, and that’s when bad shit happens. If I don’t use it occasionally, it only wakes things worse, and I-”

“I can’t hear this.”

Robin’s anger crashed through Steve like a wave, nearly knocking him over. She stood, towering over him.

“When we were in that bathroom, all drugged out of our minds. I-” she sniffed, rage tears pooling in her eyes. Steve likes her eyes. So crystal blue. “Are we even really friends?”

Her last question was nothing more than a whisper.

And it made Steve wish he was never born.

He gaped at her like a dead fish.

“Rob, of course we are! I would never-”

“Because I hated you. And then one summer. Two whole months where we’re close enough that you can get all up in my brain, and suddenly I’m telling you shit I’ve never told anyone before.”

“It wasn’t, Robin I swear, that whole time, I never once used-”

She held up her hand, cutting him off.

A sob caught in his throat as she turned on her heel.

She slammed the door closed behind her.

Another fucking silence.

Steve couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Their feelings were enough for him now, betrayal and anger and disappointment rushing into his lungs, drowning him. Choking him.

“You’ve used them on all of us.”

It wasn’t a question.

It was just a statement. The coldest he’s ever heard Dustin sound.

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“Jesus, Steve. You realize that’s actually totally fucked up, right? You can’t just make us feel whatever you want,” Dustin bellowed at him, standing up like Robin had done, looking down at Steve where he sat pathetically on the floor.

And, when it’s put like that.

Sure.

It’s kinda fucked up.

But he’s only ever meddled in a way that’s good. He only ever tries to make his friends feel the positives. Hell, on the night of that stupid Snow Ball, he’d given Dustin enough self-confidence to make Madonna seem insecure.

All he does is try to help.

“All I do is try to help.”

More fucking silence.

Steve was so goddamn sick of silence. All he had was silence. He had the nothing, empty quiet. And he didn’t want it from the people who were supposed to make his life loud.

“El won’t be here until later tonight. I think we should just meet up then.”

Steve buried his head in his hands, biting back sobs as the small group filtered out of his house.

This is why he had wanted to take this secret with him to death.

He told everyone who he really is, and now they all hate him, and he’s completely alone, and wherever Billy is he’s fucking scared and-

“Steve?”

Max’s voice was small, mirroring the way she was curled in on herself in the plush armchair near the wall.

“Do you really think Billy’s alive?”

Steve nodded at her, desperately begging her to stay. To help him.

“I know he is.”

“I have an idea.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

Doesn’t remember much of anything in this place.

He studied the water lapping at his muddy boots, dragging his toes through it to make the water wave and ripple.

It didn’t make a sound.

“I want to help.”

Billy knew Steve was there even before he spoke.

Something about the warmth he brought to the void place.

The safety.

“Don’t know if you can.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile at that. His face was covered in blood, dried and flaking away from his skin, painted all the way down his face and neck, some staining the collar of his shirt.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“That happens when the only interactions you have with a guy are to beat his ass.”

Steve cracked a real smile at that. Something big and bright that made Billy’s gut twist in a way he didn’t quite like.

“You’re forgetting all those other times we spent together. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Yeah, Billy knows.

Mostly because he wasn’t trying to be subtle.

He had talked to Steve about his bitchy ex while they both had their dicks out in the shower. He was trying to be very much un-subtle.

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“I know.”

Oh.

Steve knows.

And all he had done was stare blankly at Billy.

Nice.

“I need to know where you are.”

“Why?”

“Because I can help.”

Billy just blinked at Steve.

“Do you know El?”

Something funny happened to Steve’s face. He kind of gave a little smile that flickered into a frown and landed on something a little pinched and awkward.

“Yeah. How do you know her?”

“Hopper keeps saying he needs to get to her. None of us know what he’s talking about.”

And with that, Steve’s eyes went huge, and his jaw dropped. The water at Billy’s ankles sloshed quietly.

“Hopper’s there? Chief Hopper? Jim Hopper is there?”

“Jesus, yeah. Been here since we all woke up.”

Steve acted like Billy had told him that Farrah Fawcett herself was on her way to shave his head.

Meaning, he looked struck fucking dumb.

“I’m gonna need you to explain.”

“I don’t know. Don’t remember much. Crashed my car on one of your shitty backwoods roads, and then everything is just, kinda, gone. I woke up in this shithole version of the library and Hopper found me here and we’ve kinda set up camp.”

Billy shrugged lamely. Something was dripping, he could hear the sound of it far behind him.

“There’s more of you? How many?”

“Not as many as there should be.”

Steve’s mouth pinched, and his big droopy eyes went all sweet and sad.

“Where are you? Where’s the camp?”

Billy was suddenly embarrassed. There was a sound like a stream flowing over rocks.

What’s he supposed to say? The hellscape skeleton of your house oh and by the way all your stuff is here and I slept in your bed once because I was scared and sad.

“Someone’s house. Don’t know whose.”

Steve huffed some air out of his nostrils, his mouth pinching again.

Billy hadn’t realized someone could make so many different expressions just by pursing their lips in different ways.

“Find out. We’re coming to get you.”

A crash of a wave, and Billy was back in hell.

Steve sucked in lungfuls of air, tossing the towel that had been covering his eyes to the ground.

“You saw him.”

Max was sitting in front of him, the t.v. playing static behind her.

“Yeah. He’s okay. I mean, he’s really gross. Like, he’s-sorry. He’s okay.”

Max was still staring at him like she didn’t quite know how to proceed.

“But he’s in the Upside Down?”

“Yeah. And there’s others. He said Hopper’s there, that he’s been trying to contact El.”

“Wait, Hopper? He’s alive?”

“Billy said all of the flayed woke up after the Fourth of July in the Upside Down. He doesn’t know anything that happened in this world, and Hopper was there and they’ve set up, like, some kind of camp, or whatever. He said they’re in someone’s house. He doesn’t know who.”

“ Fuck .”

Yeah, Steve agrees with that sentiment.

This whole thing was like, kind of a lot.

And deep inside him, those other feelings had yet to leave him alone all day.

There was some kind of disappointment knocking about in his brain.

He knows it’s Billy.

All of those other feelings, it’s whatever Billy is feeling right that minute wherever he is.

And it only happens when Steve is-

“Max, he’s here.”

She whipped around behind her, staring at the front door like Billy could waltz through it at any moment.

“No, no not here, here .” She clearly didn’t understand. He used the towel to wipe the fresh blood from his upper lip, still having yet to clean himself up any. “The camp, the safeplace, it’s here. They’ve set up in my house!”

It felt like a revelation on par with the greatest inventions. Steve felt like the scientist that landed the man on the moon or the very first person to melt cheese onto fries.

A genius.

“So, he’s, I mean, he could be, just, here .” She looked over the room wistfully, and Steve knew how she felt. Like she wanted to pierce her hands into thin air, tearing a hole in between the two worlds and ripping Billy straight outta hell.

(Really, she just filled him with a wave of fierce determination, but Steve likes to take poetic license on other people’s feelings sometimes.)

“And you can feel him.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he, okay?”

And he knows this question.

Not the okay he assured her of when he first saw Billy. Soothing that he wasn’t missing any internal organs or possessed by any monsters.

She wants to know if he’s held it together.

“He’s scared. He’s always scared. But he’s really fucking stubborn, and he- I don’t know why he feels these things, but sometimes he gets kinda sad. Almost like he’s lost something, and sometimes, it feels like he’s caught fire, and his insides are just going up in flame and he gets overwhelmed by them. And sometimes he feels-” He hadn’t meant to continue.

“Tell me.”

He’s pretty sure Max knew what he was going to say next.

She just wanted it confirmed.

“Hopeless. Sometimes he feels hopeless.”

She sniffed, her eyes shining as she looked anywhere that wasn’t Steve.

“But, we know now. He doesn’t have to be hopeless anymore. We’ll find a way in, and we’ll get him out.”

He didn’t want to manipulate her.

He didn’t want to cross the boundaries everyone clearly thought he already had.

But he was positive he would find a way to Billy. He was positive he would get him out and get him home.

He sent a wave of that determination and hope and conviction to her.

“Yeah. We’ll get him.”

“Hopper, man, some funky shit is going down.”

Hopper whirled around quickly, halfway to his feet and asking who's been hurt before Billy raised both hands, acting like he was calming an anxious horse.

“Nah, sorry, shoulda worded that better. I just mean, something’s happened to me. With me, maybe. I don’t know. Just hear me out. This shit’s gonna sound, insane.”

Hopper didn’t say anything as Billy explained, beginning with that night when the wall shattered next to his head, and ending with his most recent trip to the void place.

Billy shrugged lamely when he finished explaining.

“So, Harrington, huh? Never woulda guessed he was like her. You sure you didn’t see a little girl anywhere in the blank place?”

“No. It was just us. Both times.”

Hopper leaned back in his chair, scratching a hand through his thick beard.

“The first time one of the demogorgons showed up on our side was behind Steve’s house. Took Will Byers from his shed. They live some few miles away. Second time was in Harrington’s backyard. Took Barbara Holland.” Hopper sighed, looking in the direction of the busted radio. Billy could more or less see the cogs turning in his head. “If you see him again, tell him where we are. Tell him I think the walls are thinnest here. That maybe he and El could tear through. Better yet, tell him to find me if he can.”

He clapped Billy on the shoulder, looking right at him in that way he did sometimes. It always made Billy feel like a little kid.

“Thank you, kid. You might’ve just saved us.”

Billy felt awkward and didn’t really know what to do with his face. Thankfully, Hopper turned away from him, cutting the moment short and moving back to fiddling with the old radio.

Billy ducked his way up and back to the furthest bedroom on the ground floor, taking a seat on his low cot and digging his palms into his eyes.

He didn’t know how the void happened. If he could only get there in his sleep, or if it was Steve’s doing somehow.

“C’mon, Steve. Where are you? Come find me, Pretty Boy. We gotta talk.”

When he moved his hands away, he was in that blank place.

Billy was taken aback a bit, thinking somehow he had created the place around him.

Until he saw Steve, standing nervously and staring at Billy.

“I felt you. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, you felt me? What in the fuck’s that supposed to mean.”

“Don’t worry about it. What happened? Are you guys okay?”

Steve wasn’t covered in blood anymore.

In fact, he looked freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and soft-looking without product.

It’s how he always looked right after having a post-practice shower. Clean and warm. Soft and inviting.

“I talked to Hopper. He told me to give you a message.”

Steve’s eyes lit up, and he took a step towards Billy, the water rippling where his foot disturbed the surface.

“He said, well. He told me where we are. Apparently, we’re at your place.” Billy tried to smirk a little, act like this was brand new information to him.

“Yeah. I gathered.”

“He thinks the walls are thinnest at your place. Said that maybe you and El could tear through easily. That mean anything to you?”

Steve nodded so hard his bangs flopped right into his eyes.

He pushed his hair out of his face, tucking some behind his ear. Billy tracked the movement.

“We’re going to try tonight. Maybe around six. Can you guys be ready by then?”

“We don’t have any way to track time around here. Don’t even know if it’s day or night, really.”

Steve bit his soft bottom lip, looking at Billy like he wanted to cry for him.

“Then I’ll come and get you before. Warn you when we’re about to start. Make sure everyone stays close. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it sustained, and we want to get everyone out if we can.”

“Steve, man, what in the fuck is going on? I’ve been shut up in this place for, for I don’t even know how long, and all of a sudden, you just start showing up in my head and telling me that you’re gonna take point on this big fuckin’ rescue mission.”

Billy doesn’t want to admit it to anyone, least of all Steve Harrington, but he’s scared, and confused, and he genuinely wishes that he had died in that library instead of waking up.

“I’ll explain it when you get back.”

And Steve smiled at him and the corners of his eyes crinkled and Billy didn’t quite feel like he wanted to die anymore.

“Where are they?”

El didn’t even say hello when she pushed Steve’s front door open, just made straight for Max and Steve in the sitting room.

“They’re all being dicks,” was Max’s answer. “Steve told us about how you two know each other, and everyone kinda freaked.”

“I mean, it’s pretty freaky.”

“Yeah, sure, but they didn’t need to be such shitbirds about it.”

Somewhere between feeling harshly angry at Steve and his powers and hearing her brother’s voice crackle through the television speaker, Max had pretty much ensconced Steve as her sidekick.

Which he didn’t mind in the least.

It was kinda odd seeing the Byers in his house.

Jonathan looked. Exactly the same.

Like literally. His hair had grown out since his mother had taken a pair of scissors and a bowl to it last summer, and he looked just like the Hawkins Jonathan Steve was used to.

It was kinda nice.

At least one thing hasn’t changed.

Especially because Will is pretty much unrecognizable.

He had shot up, growing until he could nearly look Steve in the eye. And thank God, he must've followed Jonathan’s footsteps and stopped letting Joyce cut his hair.

It was longer, adn shaggier, but it made him look so grown up.

Nearly as grownup as El, her hair nearly down to her shoulder blades, the top of her head coming up on Steve’s chin, showing off the signs of her own growth spurt.

Even Joyce was sporting a new look. Longer hair with bangs that were swept off her face.

She gave Steve a comforting hug, and those were just the same.

Unease filled the room.

Nobody knew what they were walking into. El had to have given them the basics, and Steve figures she explained some on the long drive back to town, but there had been even more developments since the last they had spoken this morning.

Steve sifted through the borderline panic of Max and the Byers, clinging onto the fierce calm that El was radiating. Probably for his benefit more than her own actual experience.

“I know where Billy is. We talked. I have an idea.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the feelings. “Hopper’s alive.”

It took a second.

El’s carefully maintained calm wavered for a moment.

And then it crashed down.

Disbelief, relief, denial, anger, hope, joy.

Everything a person could possibly feel at once poured out of El and Joyce both, nearly knocking Steve off his feet with the sheer velocity of the emotions.

“Saw him?”

“No. But Billy mentioned him. He said he’s been trying to get to you.”

El’s eyes filled with tears, and Steve could feel the satisfaction, the pride, welling up in her that Hopper was still thinking of her. That he was trying to reach out.

“My powers,” she trailed off.

“Yeah. I know. But, he said, well, he told Billy to tell me, he thinks the walls are thinnest here. Maybe in the woods outback. He thinks we can do it.”

Sorry,” Joyce interrupted. She had gathered herself somewhat, but her feelings were still shaky.

She always felt like she was trembling emotionally. Joyce felt everything nearly as viscerally as Billy did.

“I think we’re not on the same page. Steve, you spoke to Billy? El said she sensed him.”

“Steve is like me. From Papa.”

“You mean, from the lab?” Jonathan clarified.

Everyone was staring at Steve again and he felt like burrowing a hole right through the floor and hiding underground forever.

“Yeah, I got out when I was a kid. My parents were pretty hell-bent on hiding it from everyone. But. You know. Cat’s outta the bag now. But yes, it was me who saw Billy. He’s in the Upside Down. A bunch of people are. Including Hopper. It sounds like they were all taken and the flayed people out here were like, fake. Like evil twin versions.”

Sure, it’s a shitty explanation.

It’s the best he can do, okay? Leave him alone.

“So, what’s his plan, then?”

That’s the good thing about the Byers, though. They get the whole, priority thing. Now’s not the time to focus on shit like Steve’s fake life. Not when the Upside Down is concerned.

“Billy didn’t say much. Just that he thinks maybe El and I could like, band together to open it. I don’t really know how, I mean, I haven’t thought about it much, I just spoke to him, but that's the idea. I told him I would meet him in the void or whatever before we go so he can gather everyone and get ready.”

“So, is it just us?” Will asked quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. He was disappointed. His friends not being where they were needed. Not being there to see him for the first time since his family moved away months ago.

Steve shrugged.

He was battling his own disappointment and hurt at everyone ditching him.

“No. Let’s start calling. We need to stick together for this one. Billy hasn’t said anything about how bad the Upside Down has been, and we need to be ready to fight off anything that tries to get through.”

“Max is right. They should be here.” Will was already making his way to the phone placed on the side table. “They need to be here.”

Jonathan caught Steve’s eye, jerking his head slightly to the hallway.

Steve followed him, already knowing the line of questioning that was about to hit him.

“I knew you called El. I picked up this morning. Now the story makes a lot more sense, I guess.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting this weird feeling for a couple months, but I finally put it all together. Probably would’ve happened faster it is was El.”

“I don’t know. She’s been struggling a lot. She practices every day, but,” he sighed” I don’t know if she’s strong enough to make this work.”

He’s worried, adn scared, and has that exact same tremble-feeling that his mother does.

“I know. I just don’t think we can leave them any longer. Billy said they’ve already lost people. I don’t know what it’s been like for them, but they’ve been stuck for fucking months, and-”

This time, it hit him so hard he really did blackout.

His vision clouded around him, and his whole body burned with the raging fear inside of him.

He could hear something, could hear someone screaming, adn something, something that sounded horrible, and so very very like a-

“Demogorgon!”

It’s like it had come out of nowhere.

This towering figure, long and thin in all the wrong fucking ways.

And the sound. Billy realized what Hopper meant about how it’s not something you forget.

They were in some form of a ready position.

Billy among the front of the group, holding his ax he had never let go of in the first place.

His heart was pounding.

We’ll be out soon. We’ll be out soon.

He didn’t believe it.

How could he?

How the fuck is Steve Harrington going to get them out of the worst place ever? No offense to him or anything, but the guy could barely make a goddamn milkshake without spilling something on the sticky tile floor of Scoops Ahoy! and now, Billy’s life is in this guy’s hands while he stares into the jaws of a monster that looks like it stepped right out of H.P. Lovecraft’s wettest dreams.

It’s not like this is the first time he’s had this realization, but he is in way over his fucking head.

“Steve,” Billy grumbled to himself through gritted teeth. “If you can hear me, get us the fuck outta here.”

The thing ahead of them wasn’t moving. It stood in the line of the trees behind Steve’s house.

It was staring down the clump of people on the other side of the backyard.

The air was still.

Billy’s ears were ringing.

He stared the thing down.

Its long fingers twitched.

Someone screamed.

And the thing charged.

It roared like nothing Billy had ever heard before. A shriek that seemed to vibrate Billy’s bones and tremble the earth underneath his feet.

It charged.

Sprinting forward on long thin legs, it loped with a grace that turned Billy’s stomach and made his knees wobble and threaten to give out.

Plant your feet.

It rang through his head, Steve’s voice from, some time Billy couldn’t remember. Or maybe Steve was just the little voice that commanded his bravery now.

Either way, he dug the balls of his feet into the cracked ground, and waited.

Don’t stop fighting.

He swung.

The ax clocked right into the side of the thing, barely cutting into its thick leathery skin, but it slowed it down.

Well, actually.

It made it change course from attacking the group as a whole, to honing in on Billy.

Which was less than awesome.

Billy wrenched the ax out of its tough body, thick, sticky black goo connecting the ax with its entry point as he drew it away.

He swung again, nearly hitting the same place.

The thing cried out, roaring over the sound of screaming and gunshots.

Hopper had his rifle trained on the flowered head of the one Billy was furiously chopping into like a tree.

There were two more, two he hadn’t noticed in his preoccupation with the one in front of him.

He didn’t know who was who. Which gunshot belonged to which gun, which shriek belonged to which animal.

He didn’t know if the cries of pain were from the awful beasts or the people in his camp. He was hoping the former.

He swung again. There was a sickening sound of the metal blade connecting with something solid. Something like bone.

Hopper shot it, once, twice in the head.

It was whining, making a high-pitched noise as it staggered about.

One last blow to the side of the thing, and it was finished.

The monster flopped onto the ground, dark liquid oozing out of it, its body nearly split in half where Billy had hammered it with his ax. A great gaping wound that showed sticky dark entrails.

Billy turned.

His brain was working in slow motion as he charged into the battle still raging.

He didn’t know how many of the things had arrived.

All he knew was taking them out.

His arms were sore from the force he was putting into each blow with his ax. His muscles threatened to give out at any moment.

Drive them back. We’re coming.

The thought was shoved into his head. He didn’t know where it came from but he believed it.

“Help is on the way!” He shouted to no one and everyone.

He had taken down two more demogorgons with the help of the others. One was missing its body, a petal head lolling on the ground, getting trampled on in the fight.

Steve had felt the demogorgon before Billy saw it.

It was an odd feeling, almost like it was a black hole sucking up everything he thought and felt before he could cling onto it.

It made him feel cold, and empty, and just like the Upside Down felt.

“We don’t have time!”

El was insisting on contacting the others. She was livid with them for abandoning Steve, but things were taking a turn for the small group trapped in that hellscape.

“Steve’s right. If there’s a demogorgon there, that means the Mind Flayer has gotten some strength back, wherever he is.”

Steve nodded at Will gratefully.

“But, what’s the idea? You two open the gate. Then what? We wait for those things to come through to our side?” Jonathan asked, kinda harshly, if you ask Steve.

Steve rubbed his eyes, his fists pressing against them so hard he was seeing odd shapes.

“No. I go through. I get them. I bring them back.” His head was a fucking mess. Billy was all over the place. Fear, desperation, and a horrible calm that only came when things looked like the end. Plant your feet, he thought, trying to get his feelings to Billy through the thin dimensional wall. Don’t stop fighting. “For the past few days, all I’ve been able to feel is somebody else’s fucking fear and this stupid stupid stubbornness and I know it’s Billy, and I know he’s in trouble. Like right now. The demogorgons are coming for them, and he’s so scared. He’s so fucking scared and he thinks he’s gonna die, and he’s trapped .”

He looked at each person individually, glaring at them all in the eye.

“We don’t have time.”

So it was decided.

He brought El outside, and stared into the shimmering water of the pool.

The pool where a demon came out and dragged Barbara to her death.

It gave him the fucking creeps. Well, it more gave him the severe anxiety, but there was something about it that made it seem like it was the best place to try and rip the fold between himself and Billy.

Drive them back. We’re coming.

He wanted Billy to have some hope. Something like a lifeline that would keep him fighting the monsters.

He had wrenched his nail bat out of the wall it was still planted in from a few nights ago, and stood next to El, ready to try.

“To be honest, I don’t know how to help you.” It was the only thing that scared him about this plan. “I don’t have the same powers as you. The telekin-the moving stuff around. I don’t know how to open this.”

She looked at him thoughtfully.

“In Chicago. Kali. When I’m angry my powers are better,” she took his hand. “Make me angry.”

Steve closed his eyes.

He tried to push Billy to the side, clinging onto the first bit of El he could sense.

Her anger was like a melted core running through her. Driving her in a lot of ways.

He grabbed onto it.

Papa. Everything he did to your mama. Being locked in isolation. Fights with Hopper. Being trapped in the cabin. Feeling alone and not knowing how to fix it. New kids at school being mean. Techs in the lab that treated us like rats. The smell of skin burning. Parents that called you a freak.

He didn’t know when he had stopped using El’s ready-made rage, and began siphoning his own straight into the beating heart of her fury.

His gut began to feel white-hot, and he could feel the blood dripping down his lip.

Lying to everyone. Being abandoned for the truth. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

Steve was livid.

He’s never felt an emotion consume him like this. Felt one feeling take over so completely it’s like there was nothing else in the world.

He opened his eyes.

There was blood flowing steadily from El’s nose, and he knew his was doing the same.

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, his body going into overdrive to divert all of his energy to his powers.

The rift glowed red through the clear pool water, splitting open like a seam on a well-worn shirt.

The burn on his arm ached, and he pushed into it.

He remembered being held down on his father’s desk. Remembers the cigar being forced against his skin, bubbling up and disfiguring the tattoo beyond recognition.

He remembers his father, this is for your own good, Steven. You’ll tell everyone you had an accident. People won’t question a burn like they will a tattoo.

Like no one would take one look at the quarter-sized mark and know what would make it.

He remembers getting the tattoo.

It was nearly the same process.

He was strapped down in a chair, his screams going ignored as the needle drove into his skin over and over, leaving a neat black number behind.

001

Number One.

The first in a series of children bred for something more, and beaten into acceptance.

His head felt like it could explode. He didn’t know what was going on around him, was barely aware of El’s sweaty hand in his, and the bright red light coming from the cracked bottom of the pool.

It was open.

Number One took a deep breath, and dived into the pool.

It was the little one that noticed it.

Billy had been trying to yell at him to get back inside, to keep himself out of harm’s way.

They had killed six demogorgons, and more were certainly coming.

The trees in the forest were rustling in a way they never did on their own.

The little one was pointing frantically, his eyes wide and scared.

Billy turned, and his blood ran cold.

Something was moving in the pool.

It was making the thick non-water slosh around dangerously, the dark liquid lapping over the sides and staining the concrete.

There were vines crisscrossing over the surface of the liquid, and Billy approached it carefully, hoping whatever was coming out would be trapped underneath them.

“This is the last fucking thing we need,” Hopper gritted out, cocking his rifle and aiming at the sludge.

And then Billy’s head felt like it had been cracked open.

He was blinded with pain and rage and

Help me, Hargrove!

He started swinging his ax wildly at the vines. Trying to break them apart enough for a body to fit through.

His heart thundered in his chest, and he dropped to his knees, ripping at the slimy black tendrils.

He shoved his left arm in.

It was like dousing his arm in ice. Like the liquid was made from the purest essence of cold.

He searched frantically with his hand, finding something solid and yanking with all his strength.

He had to put both arms in, grabbing hold of whatever he could, using his body weight as leverage to extract Steve from the cold.

He was limp when Billy finally got him out, but breathing heavily.

He opened his eyes, wiping his face free of the goop and blood covering him, and grinned at Billy.

“Told’ya we would get you out.”

They shepherd him inside, most of the gang speechless and struck dumb from the events of the past while.

Steve was given a change of almost clean clothes, and allowed to use some of their bottled water ration to clean the freezing black fluid from himself.

He wasted little time, and was down in the Upside Down version of his living room with everyone else.

“We can’t be long. El had to use a lot of strength to open it, but she’ll need her strength to close it, too.”

Nobody knew what in the fuck Steve was going on about.

Nobody but Hopper, that is.

He still had disgusting pool sludge all over his front from when he pulled Steve into a tight hug when he had gotten his bearings back from his journey through the rift.

“We can’t send people through that shit. It took all of Billy’s muscle to get you outta there.”

“So we drain it,” Steve insisted. “My parents drain it sometimes, I know how to do it.”

“I’ll keep watch. Make sure nothing tries to make itself known.”

Billy had barely wiped himself off.

He didn’t care anymore about how freezing that shit was, he just wanted to surge forward, and get back the fuck home.

Hopper studied them both.

“Bring weapons. Yell if you need help.”

Billy nodded once, and turned on his heel, following Steve out the back door.

Steve led him to a wooden shed on the side of the house. Billy had to clear the vines away from it before Steve could pry open the doors.

It was full of pool equipment, and it didn’t take long for Steve to locate a large grubby pump. He knocked it against the wall of the shed until the filter attachment clattered off, leaving bigger openings for the sludge to, hopefully, run through.

“Shit. This thing is electric. You got electricity?”

It was the first time Steve had really gotten a good look at Steve since being in the Upside Down.

He looked exactly as he had in the void place. His hair had a lot more disgusting black fluid in it, and he overall looked kinda shitty with the flecks of grime and blood on his face, but he looked bright. Alive. Strong.

“How did you do it? Take me to that place. Figure out we were here.”

Steve flushed. Billy had become overly aware that his face was completely covered under his bandana. Steve should cover his face.

He drew another one of his back pocket, and, he didn’t know why, but he tied it around Steve’s face.

Seriously, he could’ve just handed it to the guy and called it good there. But no. He had to set his ax on the ground, propped against his leg, wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and tie the bandana like this was some intricate ritual.

All while Steve just stared at him with those fuckin’ eyes of his.

“It’s a long story.” Billy could barely hear Steve speak through the dirty cloth now covering his mouth and nose. “I’ll tell you when we’re back. When we’re safe.”

“I’m holding you to that, Harrington. Can’t have a guy poking around my dreams and shouting in my head without knowing his intentions.”

It was as close to flirting as Billy dared right now.

Right before they tried to journey between worlds.

“Good to know you heard me. I was trying to give you something of a pep talk.”

“Well, it worked. I would’ve just put my arms out and let those things rip me to shreds if I hadn’t have known.”

Billy didn’t know what Steve’s face was doing behind the cloth, but his eyes dropped, and Billy imagined that little cinch of his mouth that he had noticed Steve doing so much in that void place.

Billy meant it as a joke.

He really did.

And the Billy that was torn to bits in the mall wasn’t this Billy. Wasn’t the real Billy that was made out of real Billy materials and real Billy personality.

But it still made Steve feel queasy, thinking about his arms spread wide, black goop pouring out of his mouth and nose as the Mind Flayer decimated him.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Billy. Just, not now.”

And Steve turned off, hauling the pump back to the pool and taking calming breaths.

The pump sank without much effort, like there was some kind of gravitational pull at the bottom of the pool.

Steve had connected the thickest hose he could find, adn sent Billy off with the extension cord to find an outlet that didn’t spark and threaten fire.

Before no time, the pump was humming, and pushing black slime through the hose and onto the dead grass.

They didn’t need to get it all out, just as much as they could shove everyone through.

Steve closed his eyes, trying to reach El like he had Billy.

We had a hold up. Shouldn’t be long.

He could feel her on the other side.

She promised she would stay close enough to the rift that Steve could get in touch with her.

He could feel something slither down his spine, a wordless confirmation from her.

The liquid in the pool was slowly edging down, leaving a stain on the once-white walls of the pool.

“Gather everyone up. Tell ‘em to meet out here. Tell ‘em to leave it all behind.”

Billy was still staring at the edge of the forest when he commanded Steve.

It was odd, being in his house that’s not his house.

Everything was so. Wrong.

From the way the house seemed to be crumbling down, reduced to its studs in some areas, to the way it was still clearly his house. Paintings his father had bought. Elegant furniture his mother selected.

It was all there. Just under a thick layer of dirt and nightmares.

He thought idly about his bedroom, wondering if it would look like it did on his end. A little messy, the sheets typically rumpled and unmade.

He resisted the urge to wander upstairs, reminding himself he was on a mission.

“It’s time. Don’t bring anything. It’ll probably be ruined along the way.”

Everyone looked grave. Steve tried to smile at them, tried to push through some calmness to them all. He had forgotten Billy’s bandana was tied around his face. He sent one last wave of quiet confidence around the room, and led the group through the kitchen.

They had barely rounded the corner of the kitchen island when they heard a strangled yell from outside.

Steve put his head down, and sprinted through the shattered glass doors, skidding to a halt in the threshold.

Billy was staggering backward, his ax forgotten on the ground and his left hand was clinging wildly to his right shoulder.

His jacket was in tatters, thick blood dripping bright crimson down his arm, standing out like neon against the dark, dirty ground.

Steve didn’t feel himself moving forward. He didn’t feel his hands raising in front of him.��

He just felt anger. The same anger from before that had ripped through him like a raging forest fire and straight into El.

The thing shrieked.

It backed away from Billy, twisting and writhing as its horrible screams filled the air, making the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end.

Fierce fury was exploding out of him, and he grit his teeth against the pounding in his head.

“You don’t get to hurt him,” Steve barely barked out.

All went still, and the demogorgon snapped into pieces.

Steve felt like he could pass out where he stood.

He had never felt so wrung dry.

His vision was waning at the edges, and he felt an arm around his waist, coaxing him toward the red light now barely shining through a thin layer of slime in the pool.

“Hold your breath, Pretty Boy.”

Steve was limp against him, and Billy was doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his right shoulder as he held Steve close to his side. He had fumbled off both of their face coverings, moving clumsily through the pain of his injury.

He took one last breath, and jumped into the rip between worlds.

He plunged into the water, the crystal blue of a chlorinated pool.

It was the best feeling in the world.

Being covered and surrounded by clean. The heated water doing more to soothe Billy’s frayed nerves than anything in his life.

He kicked hard, swimming one-armed to the surface, Harrington a dead weight in his injured arm.

His head broke the water, and he took in deep lungfuls of clean, crisp air.

Someone was tugging at Steve, and Billy, for the first time in his fucking life, was glad to see those kids Max was constantly hanging around.

A woman Billy didn’t know was fawning over Steve, feeling for a pulse, and looking relieved when she felt his hot breath against her palm.

“There’s more coming,” Billy coughed.

He barely managed to get the words out, dripping muck and grime on the cement by the pool, when it felt as though he was hit from the side by a speeding train.

He buried his nose in bright orange hair, hugging Max back as tightly as he could manage.

He was exhausted, and feeling her there, alive and okay, was all that was keeping him standing.

“I thought, I mean, we all thought you were dead. We saw it. That thing killed you .” Billy realized, with a whole lotta horror, that she was crying. Sobbing outright into his dirty chest.

“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” How could they have seen when that monster just came at him?

“Oh, you’re bleeding.”

And if she only just realized he was hurt?

Max frog-marched Billy inside, to a very pale-looking Nancy Wheeler, sitting ready with a first aid kit.

Billy had to peel his clothes off his body, the fabric stuck to him like a second skin.

Nobody was speaking, and more of the people locked in the other place came traipsing into the room, fluffy towels wrapped around their shoulders.

Hopper was the last to come in, holding the woman tight to his side underneath the striped pool towel.

“Steve and El are closing it back up.”

There was a quiet murmur around the room.

Nancy patched up Billy’s shoulder, Max still stuck to his side like glue, the little boy from camp pasted to his other side.

He had no idea how much time had past when Steve finally came traipsing into the room with Max’s little friend, both of them sporting matching bloody noses.

Steve looked like shit.

His face was covered in blood, old and new, and he still had some of the gross not-liquid in his hair from the Upside Down.

But Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see someone in his life.

“I’m sure everyone has questions,” said the woman tucked against Hop’s side. El, Billy assumes, had taken her place on Hop’s other side, wrapping the towel around her shoulders as well.

The woman launched into a story that made Billy feel like his brain was oozing out of his ears.

A monster. One they had all met before. Playing body snatcher in their sleepy little town.

Apparently, one had been wearing a Billy meat-suit and wreaking havoc around town, which made Billy wanna throw up until he died.

Which, not-Billy, had died. Fuckin’ brutally. And in front of everyone. Which sure as shit explained why Max wouldn’t let go of his sweaty hand.

The story made Billy queasy, and he took to studying everyone in the room instead.

All the kids were there, even the one that had been following Steve around like a little shadow, but they were all glaring in the very much opposite direction of Steve.

Steve himself was pressed almost against the wall, looking like he’d collapse if the wall weren’t supporting him.

“What’s up with the cold shoulder?” Billy muttered to Max.

“They’re mad at Steve right now. He’s been lying to us all.”

It was all he got out of her before everyone started moving around.

The woman, Joyce Byers, he’s learned, had finished her story, and the group from the Upside Down had begun clamoring for rides home, or maybe something to eat.

Billy just saw Steve manage to slip away before he followed him.

It took some doing, shaking off the little one, who still wasn’t speaking, and looked ready to burst into tears when Billy told him to stay behind in the living room.

But Janet Holloway took the kid’s other hand and gently led him back into the living room.

Billy nodded at her, and sped up the stairs.

It was weird, being in Harrington’s actual room.

It was messy, and looked like Steve spent most of his time here tossing clothes on the ground or twisting up in his bed covers like a tornado.

But it was oddly comforting.

Being in Steve’s real room, and not some perverse dirty copy.

Steve was standing, facing the bed, peeling his borrowed jacket from his shoulders and leaving it there on the floor.

“I never said thank you.”

Steve startled at Billy’s voice.

“Yeah. No problem.” Steve’s tone was light and airy, but Billy heard him sniff.

“Max said the little shitbirds are mad at you. Something about you lying.”

Steve turned around, giving Bily a watery smile.

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

So Steve told him.

About the lab.

About the experiments.

About the torture.

He explained that he had rules. Never making anyone feel something they already didn’t. Never altering someone’s opinion of, or feelings towards him.

Billy grit his teeth as he imagined Wheeler giving Steve a hard time about that.

Steve was silent for a moment, not looking at Billy.

“It’s okay if you hate me. I mean, everyone does now.”

“You'd be able to feel if I hated you. You and those powers of yours just saved my life, Pretty Boy. I’m pretty sure I’m feeling the farthest thing from hatred just about now.”

It was as close to a confession as Billy would let himself get.

But if Steve knows what he’s feeling at any given moment, then that means that he knows, and he didn’t-

“Quit it. Insecurity isn’t a good look on you.”

Steve sounded tired, and he flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms out.

At first, it didn’t sit quite right with Billy.

He had barely even begun to identify what he was feeling when Steve swooped in and just point blank told him what the emotion was.

Billy spent nearly all of his time being a big fuckin’ facade.

He tried his very best to hide any emotional tell from anyone around him.

He prided himself on being a chameleon. That nobody would ever truly know how he felt in any given situation.

And here’s pretty boy Steve Harrington. Who is feeling just as, if not more, strongly as Billy is.

But, it takes out all the parts of emotions that Billy hates dealing with.

Showing them. Talking about them.

He’d never once had to grapple with the words to explain how he feels to Steve.

Steve would just.

He’d know.

And god, that’s kind of a nice idea.

Billy sat down gently on the bed.

“Alright.”

Steve’s head popped up to stare incredulously at Billy.

Billy just grinned at him.

#this fic is named after kind of a throwaway line in rocky horror but thats my favorite movie and i thought it fits :)#i worked so hard on this and i'm really proud pls like it i'm begging #yikes writes #yikes gets pathetic in the notes #harringrove #harringrove big bang #harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrovebigbang2021 #harringrovebigbang #also look at me writing something in-universe for fucking once #steve harrington #billy hargrove #powers!steve #experiment!steve #i hate using the ! like that but whatever

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danny-chase · 3 years

Note

Based on your readings of NTT and overall knowledge, how would you characterize Donna (core personality traits, goals, fears). She’s always been a hard character for me to pin down a characterization for so I’d love to hear your thoughts

Anon, I get what you mean because Donna is an incredibly hard character to pin down, because she is pretty much the poster child for convoluted DC origin stories. There's also a lot of messed up writing surrounding her (aka her relationship with Terry, which is technically not illegal but that I find creepy because of the 10 year age gap, and the narrative never addresses it as problematic/creepy, because Terry is Wolfman's self insert character, and warnings because this will bring him up in relation to Donna's characterization). She also suffers from starting out as the only female character in the og Teen Titans, so it wouldn't be unfair to say that some of her personality traits just boil down to "generic girl character" at least in earlier comics. But anyways, here's my take on, who is Donna Troy 😂

Core Personality Traits:

1. Motherly

It's easiest to see her acting motherly to Dick, but this isn't something exclusive to their relationship, and comes out with Kory and Lian as well. She frequently uses terms of endearment like Honey when talking to Dick and Kory in a motherly tone, and teases them saying things like "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." In NTT #28. In said issue, she also gives Kory advice, and she even tucks Kory into bed in NTT #16 and gives her a forehead kiss.

With Dick, she worries about him (he's going through it after Brother Blood starts brainwashing him) and is willing to call out his self destructive behavior "Dick, there's absolutely no one I'm closer to in the Titans than you, I can't let this go. I care too much. You're driving yourself insane. You're trying to do it all, but you can't. I hate to let you in on this, pal -- but you're only human. You've got to stop. Working with us. Working alone. With the Batman. Going to school... you've set yourself an impossible challenge." NTT #29. It's kind of ironic because she advises Kory to stop worrying over Dick, but yet, she can't help but fuss over him in later issues. I would say the best example of her motherly behavior with Dick comes from The Batman Chronicles #7, where she says "You know with all this running around, we haven't had a chance to cover the important things yet. How's your love life? Had any heart-to-hearts with your mentor lately? And what about sleep? Are you getting enough sleep?"

There's so many more examples throughout comics, she's the one to comfort Wally in NTT #36, she's a natural with Lian - playing Wonder Woman's lasso with her in The Titans #5 and telling her bedtime stories in Titans Secret Files #1.

2. "Perfect"

"How'd you get to be so perfect?" - Roy Harper, The Titans #13

There's a tendency in part because of how motherly Donna acts, and because her advice is generally really good, for the Titans to assume that Donna is perfect. She often hides/ignores her own personal problems in favor of helping other members sort out their own issues.

One example of this comes early in NTT, where Hyperion, one of the Titans of myth, causes Donna to fall in love with him using his powers (issue #12). She's pretty upset by this incident, but won't talk to the other Titans about this (leaving Kory and Raven without a word). She does cry and recieve comfort from Terry (ew), but she never opens up about it to her friends, despite their efforts to help.

Transcript from NTT #14:

Dick: "Something wrong, Wonder Girl? Something bad happen on Paradise Island?"

Donna: "Something I'd rather not talk about, Robin. It was personal."

Dick: "Listen, we've been friends probably longer than anyone else here... and I think we've been good friends. If there's anything bothering you, or anything you want to talk about -- I'm here really. Anytime."

Donna: "Th-thanks... I may take you up on that... someday."

Of course, Donna's not obligated to share her problems with her friends, but her unwillingness to do so along with her tendency to give advice to the others causes them to believe Donna doesn't have any problems. "I guess we're all insecure about ourselves. But if Robin's worrying surprised me, Wonder Girl's sent me for a loop." - Wally NTT #20

Even when opening up to Terry (ew again), Donna tries to downplay her issues. "It's really insignificant, Terry." NTT #20. Even when just thinking about her problems, she downplays them. "Still, I guess I have the least to complain about." NTT #29. Ignoring personal problems is something a lot of the Titans struggle with.

Transcript from Tales of Teen Titans #45

Garfield: "Hey, don't sweat it. I understand. You had better things to do. So did Donna and Kory and Dick and everyone else, too. All to busy to talk to me. You all have your own lives."

(Later) Vic (thinking): "Blast! Don't you see how wrong you are? None of us wanted to talk about Tara."

And this is something that can be a downfall to Donna and the others. Because they hide their issues, from Garfield's perspective, he's being ignored, because he's used to characters like Donna always being there for others, but now that he needs a shoulder to cry on she's not there and he can't understand why. This again happens to Donna in issue #13 of The Titans, where multiple members try to come to Donna all at the same time, but Donna's upset due to relationship issues with Roy and she finally snaps at them "Stop it! I am not a guidance counselor! We all had a very rough day -- including me. I cannot be available to you people twenty-four hours a day!"

The comparison to being perfect is also a bit of a sore spot for Donna in The Titans due to her convoluted history (in this case because she was recreated using Wally's memories, yeah i know, comics are weird, and she wonders how much of herself is this idealized notion of her that Wally had in her head and how much is really her).

3. Optimistic

I don't have specific quotes or references for this one, but generally Donna's on more of the optimistic side of things, and keeps things in perspective.

Goals:

1. Work-life balance

Donna has probably one of the best-work life balances out of all the Titans. She has a career as a photographer and actually started up that business with friends from college (NT #50 details this). I would say one of her goals is to be able to pursue and keep this career while still working with the Titans, because it's something she enjoys and tries to share with the others (Kory).

2. Family

In The New Titans #88 it's revealed that Donna's pregnant, and one long convoluted plotline you should skip (that includes the mirage incident) later, I believe she ends up retiring from the Titans to raise her child. Marriage and raising a child seems important to Donna, so I would say it's sort of a goal for her although I can't think of a time she explicitly states it, but she does talk about how it helps her for her future to be clear even though her past is muddled.

Expanding on this, though, one of her goals is keeping the Titans together as a family, and helping them with their various issues (as discussed previously). She loves her friends deeply and offers to help them throughout the run and sees them as family. I can't recall the issue, but she has called Kory like a sister to her, and she had Dick walk her down the aisle at her wedding in NTT #50. I believe she's referenced the Titans as her first family before, and in some continuities they pretty much are - in Teen Titans: Year One, she literally lives in their clubhouse starting at age 13-14 which is the case when she tells her origin in The New Titans #50.

3. People-pleasing

This goes along with some of the quotes in the motherly section, but Donna 100% is a people pleaser. She goes after people when they're upset to comfort them, and tries to keep everyone on good terms and talk through conflict.

This can be to her detriment sometimes, especially when she prioritizes the wrong thing. "The world goes to hell in a handcart but you stay at home helping someone write a lousy story!" - Dick, The New Titans #19. It especially hurts her as a leader in this scenario, and she struggles leading the Titans in this arc, and looks to a young Jason Todd for guidance despite the fact he's like 14.

Fears:

1. Identity Issues

"It's birthdays, Terry. No, just birthdays. I don't know when mine is. How could I when I don't know who I am? I don't know my age, or even my real name. I don't think about it often, honey, but at times like this... well, I can't avoid thinking. I've tried everything to get the truth, and I've failed. And sometimes it really hurts not knowing. Sometimes I wake up crying..." - Donna NTT #20

Donna is the rare exception in that she's allowed to grapple with just how convoluted her comic book backstory is. Her past is a big source of insecurity and anxiety for her.

Transcript from NTT #31

Kory: "You didn't tell us -- when's the happy day?"

Donna: "Hold it... I haven't given him my answer yet."

Dick: "Something wrong?"

Skipping ahead Donna: "It's me, Robin -- I -- I always hoped I'd find out who I really was before I got married... I -- I don't know what to do."

Dick: "Hey, it'll work out. Maybe I can help, okay?"

In true to Donna fashion, even after Dick offers she lets the issue slide, and it ends up being Terry that seeks Dick out and asks him to investigate Donna's case in NTT #38. It's pretty clear she's anxious throughout the issue as she and Dick investigate together, going as far to say "I wish you hadn't started this." And "My insides are doing the tango, what if I learn something I'd be better off not knowing?" Every time she learns something new about herself in the issue, the relief is clear on her face and it moves her to tears. She values having tangible information about her past and it causes a noticeable change in her.

Transcript from NTT #38

Dick (narrating): "We left and drove to a nearby restaurant. All of a sudden, Donna was famished. I don't think I've ever seen her eat so much."

Donna: "It's over, Dick. All my questions are answered. I know who I am. My real mother died. My adoptive parents died in the fire."

Dick: "I guess so."

Donna: "I've never been so... happy before."

Dick (narrating): "Happy? She was positively giddy."

Again, as in previous points her identity resurfaces as an issue in The Titans, and it messes up her friendship with Wally for a while. It's again a plot point in Titans Rebirth, and again in The New Titans, and at some point it was revealed she had lived thousands of lives (after she dies) and taking all that in would be incredibly overwhelming for anyone.

2. Her friends dying

This kind of goes for all the Titans as well. But like yeah. A lot of them die, and she's seen the impact of friends dying on the group before. She herself saw the impact of her death on the Titans - i mean it literally broke up the Titans after Graduation Day.

There's a flashback in Titans 2008 #23 (another comic i don't recommend) where it's revealed that she turned down Roy's marriage proposal because of a prediction from Lilith saying that the person she married would die. Even though she loved him, she wasn't willing to take that risk.

This doesn't really neatly fit into this category, but death before the reboot was very real for Donna. We joke that everyone comes back to life, but that's not true for Donna - even though she herself came back. She lost both Terry and Bobbie (her son) in a car crash, and there's moments throughout Titans comics that show her grieving them (Titans/JLA #2, The Titans #15, and Blackest Night: Titans #2). Neither character ever came back (and were subsequently forgotten in the reboot), so even though death might not seem real in the DC universe, it can still be permanent in her mind.

In conclusion, Donna's one of those characters that seems to get lost without the Titans, because they're such an integral part of her life and I don't think she's ever gotten a solo run, so she pretty much lives and dies by them. She's also a character that's similar to Dick in that she grew up in the hero-ing world, and is well loved and respected by long-standing heroes. She can fall into the "girl next door" trope, but I really love her deep and meaningful platonic relationships with Kory and Dick and the rest of the Titans, though it would be nice to get to see Donna on her own a bit more, and see her pursuing her photography career again, rather than just seeming to float around when the Titans break up. I hope this isn't too long or confusing.

#donna troy #character meta #asks #anon

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obsessivelycapricious · 3 years

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18+ Jason Todd x fem!reader fic ramble.

Hey, so this is a idea i've had in my head for a while, but it won't leave me alone. I've kinda written the first part of it already? But idk if I'll finish it. I haven't worked out the ending yet either but a couple of lovely people were interested in hearing it so here goes! Thanks for the support! I'll tag you all separately.

Warnings: excessive torture, manipulation, gaslighting, rape, violence. kidnapping, interrogation, Stockholm syndrome, abuse. I dont specifically mention how old the characters are, but B-Man likes to pick them young so use your imagination to age them up a bit if you like. It's dark folks, and a super slow burn, though it might not be so bad written in brief here, but if those bother you it might not be a good idea to read it. (its hidden under the cut - PS it got super long - 2.5k words.)

You are Robin. Or, you were at least.

Batman picked you up out of crime alley, gave you a home and a purpose and trained you up to be one of the best deterrents to the crime in Gotham. You lived in the manor, and thought of Bruce and Alfred (even Dick) as your family. It's awesome and you love it!

Almost two years after donning the cape, something goes wrong. You get split up from Batman and taken by Jokers men. That night is the last night you see the sky for years.

Over the next three years, you are systematically abused, manipulated, gaslighted and tortured until you are a shell of your former self. Conditioned to obey his every whim, you micro dose of the small crumbs of affection Joker has to offer you. He gives you test after test, pushing you to your limit always in new and horrific ways. You don't hesitate when he asks you to shoot someone in the head or to beat someone to death. The consequences of fighting against him aren't worth it, you have learned that the hard way. He even doesn't always lock the door behind him and yet you don't try to escape.

You hate batman with a passion now, you regret ever having met the man, he has ruined your life and it's his fault that you are where you are now. He abandoned you. Used you for his games and then replaced you like you were nothing to him. It broke your heart when Joker showed you the footage of another Robin running along the rooftops. Your replacement. Heartbreak boiled over to fury and rage.

He passes you around his acquaintances, particularly Johnathan Crane who is eager to test his new strain of fear gas out. Under the gas you see the Bat sacrificing you again and again to get what he wants. If Scarecrow takes advantage of you while he has you in a vulnerable state, no one cares enough to stop him. He wants to know who the Bat is, but you know that telling him will put Alfred in danger and you'll do anything to avoid that

(Thankfully the joker doesn't want to know who the bat is, you're not sure you could defy him like that anymore.)

Then one day, a body gets thrown into the small cell you are kept in when joker doesn't want to play. Its a Robin. You panic, fear and anger confusing you while joker laughs in your face. You know it's another test but you can't figure out what the rules are.

This is where the fic starts. It's about Jason Todd's slow descent from a vibrant punk who loves being Robin to the dejected, abused shell of a boy who hates the caped crusader and will do anything Joker tells him. You know it'll happen, because that's what happened to you.

Only, Joker never does the same thing twice. Even if it works. You don't want to get attached to the boy, but birds of a feather and all that jazz.

Highlights (or lowlights) include:

Having to share a small confined cell with Jason.

Arguing about the Joker and escaping

"Don't you want to leave? Crazy bitch."

Finding out that Batman didn't even tell Jason about you:

“Why would he come for you anyway, huh? What makes you so special?” “I’m Robin. We’re partners. We’ve been through all kinds of shit together. We’re like this.” “Pah. You really believe it too, don’t you? Ya poor sap.” “What do you mean?” “Why go to the bother of finding a dumb punk like you when he can just make a new shiny Robin instead?” “He wouldn’t do that.” “He’s already done it. You ain’t the first.” “That Robin moved away, he’s doing his own thing now.” “I wasn’t talking about him. I meant the other one.” “What other one?” “The other one.” “There aren’t any other ones – I’m the only other Robin that there’s ever been.” “You motherfucker!”

Beating the shit out of Jason in a blind rage because he won't stop talking about how Batman will come for him.

“How long have you known Batsy for huh? If you know him so well.” “Nearly three years. How long have you known him huh? Oh that’s right – you don’t” “What? Three – Three years?” “That’s what I said. Look, I know this is scary, but I trust B-Man. He’ll come for me, we’ll kick all these guy’s asses, take Joker back to Arkham and get you out of here too. It’ll be okay, you’ll see.” “B-Man?” “Yeah, Batman.” “Shut up.” “What? Why?” “I don’t want to talk about him anymore so shut up!”

Jason finally figuring out who you are when Joker comes to punish you for denting his new toy.

Joker calling you pet names while manipulates you and you being terrified the Joker is going to replace you too

“Oh. Pumpkin, it’s alright. I thought we agreed we were over this, no? Batsy kicked you to the curb a long time ago. It’s old news! This shiny new toy of ours is your replacement.”. “What? You’re replacing me too?” “No, no no. I’d never dream of doing something so barbaric, Sweetheart. That’s the Bats’ M.O. You’re mine for keeps. I would never be that cruel, would I?”

Jason taking his anger out on you:

“Why do you hate B and not the Joker? He’s the one that’s doing this to you. He shipped you off to Crane and you didn’t even fight back.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” “No, I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re screwed in the head. You’re a joke, you’ve given up. Some Robin you are. A real Robin fights back. You don’t deserve the title.”

Joker making you put your Robin suit back on to fight Jason for his amusement. Jason hesitates in the beginning but kicks your ass every time.

Jason trying to comfort you but being bad at it.

Joker asking your opinion on you what you think will break the boy:

"When he gets replaced. Show him."

Weeks of being beaten then long stretches of being left alone with Jason with no instructions.

Catching Jason staring at you when he thinks you're not paying attention.

Joker being caught and taken to Arkham so you both get knocked out and transported there too.

Joker ignores you the entire time he's there as he's being watched to closely, the separation sets you off into a panic when you think about it too much.

Most of Arkham is in on you being kept there. The prisoners who know about it are paid off by being able to play with you - and now Jason too.

Jason thinking in Arkham he would have more chance of being able to escape.

You being subjected to more of Crane's abuse and different types of gas.

Jason being brought back to your cell after being tortured by calendar man and offering him comfort for the first time.

Being cut open and tortured by Zsaz.

Huddling up in the abandoned wing of Arkham for warmth and comfort.

Remembering that you had met before, years ago in the Narrows before Batman took you to be his adopted daughter.

Jason taking care of you while you recover.

Giving Jason advice on how to cope and get through the different villains taking revenge on you.

Jason being hurt and tired and snapping at you, causing an argument where you lash out at him:

"I had to go through this all on my own, dickweed. I didn't have anyone to hold my hand and tell me I wasn't going to die. So fuck you! God forbid I try and help your sorry ass."

Jason being tortured by two-face and seeing Batman and a new Robin visiting Arkham. They don't hear him scream for them to help. It breaks his heart and his will to fight.

You knew it would happen, but seeing it first hand makes your heart break for him. You didn't want to be right. You hate Batman more for what he's done to Jason than what he's done to you.

"I was right there (y/n)! Right there and he didn't even look at me."

Talking about Alfred and how much he means to you both.

Thinking you might actually have feelings for Jason after all.

Being transported back to the compound when Joker finally breaks out of Arkham again only to be in separate cells.

Having major separation anxiety from not being able to tell if Jason is okay.

Joker being jealous of your attachment to Jason and doubling down on his control over you.

He tries to take you outside and you panic so badly you beg him to take you back because you're terrified of what being free will mean.

Joker telling you that you failed his test by getting attached to the boy. He tells you that he's going to kill Jason to teach you a lesson.

Being put back in a cell with Jason to find his face has been branded and he's just so utterly void of any hope or any life.

Sitting next to Jason in the cell with your head on his shoulder.

Jason knowing he's going to die without you having to tell him. His voice is quiet and resigned, almost with a shred of relief when he says:

"He's going to kill me soon, isn't he?" "I'm going to miss you, Jason Todd." "I'm glad I got to know you, (Y/N). I'm sorry I couldn't get us out." "It's okay."

You kissing his cheek as you drift off huddled together for the last time.

Joker forcing you to watch as he beats Jason repeatedly with a crowbar, ignoring your defiant cries and struggles for him to stop.

"Which hurts more Little Red? Hmm? Forehand? Or Backhand? I think (Y/N) would like to know!"

Joker blaming you for having to kill Jason:

"And all because of your silly school girl crush. What a waste. I'm very disappointed in you, Dolly."

Being dragged away screaming from his lifeless body and thrown into the back of a van just in time before the building explodes.

That's the first half. For the second half to the ending, I haven't quite figured out yet. I've got a few ideas, but I can't decide what would fit better, feel free to help me out here.

Batman could find her after all this time, new evidence being uncovered during the explosion and in his grief about finding Jason's body he could question that he never actually found yours. Of course then you'd be homicidal and try to kill him, resulting in you being locked in another cell, this time in the Batcave. You'd get to scream at him about all his failings and what a terrible person he is though so that could be cathartic. Alfred (And Dick a little) manages to talk you back to some kind of sanity but you are forever changed by this. You meet Red Hood at a later date: on your way to find an egg and cheese sandwich when someone pulls a gun on you. Seeing you again jars him out of his own homicidal rage long enough to care about the girl who he couldn't save, giving the BatFam an opening to reason with him some.

-Or-

Joker keeps you hidden away and the Bat still has no idea you even exist. It stays that way for two more years where you eventually become completely numb to everything he or his acquaintances do to you. Joker eventually gets bored at the lack of reaction and in his boredom he gets careless. A new vigilante takes it upon himself to blow up to compound and best all Joker's men, he escapes but the vigilante doesn't chase after him and instead he finds you. You resist his attempts to save you, knowing how angry Joker will be so instead, Red Hood punches you in the face, knocking you out. He carries out into the night and you wake up somewhere new and he tries to help unravel the fuck ton of issues you've got while dealing with his own. He'll probably enlist the BatFam to help once he's done wanting to kill them, unless you can talk him into killing the Bat together, after the Joker dies of course.

-Or-

One day, maybe a year after Jason dies, Joker decides he's bored of you and gives you one last curveball. After more than 6 years of being isolated and abused, you wake up in an alley on the streets of Gotham, alone. Abandoned again. After several panic attacks and not knowing if it was a test and that you should run back to the Joker or going to find Alfred because he's the only person in the world left that you trust, you decide to leave Gotham altogether. You make it out and somehow navigate your way to having an apartment, a job and even a quiet life in Bludhaven, away from the Bat and the Clown and the nightmares. Except that one day, while you're drinking your morning coffee in a café, Dick Grayson sits down opposite you. You're stable enough not to react immediately, and Dick seems to really care that you're alive and well. Turns out that the Bat found out about you and decided to leave you alone this whole time (which only serves to double down on your feelings of abandonment) Only the joker is out of control and they think that you could help them by giving them an insight into how the joker works. They've got a new Vigilante to deal with too so they're stretched pretty thin. You flat out refuse which is when it turns out it really wasn't a request. You are taken back to Gotham and confronted with the BatFam, helping them reluctantly when Red Hood breaks into your new apartment, demanding information. You argue, and it feels too familiar, setting off a panic attack when he ribs you about your complicated relationship with the Joker. Identities are revealed and you work together to take down the Joker.

The epilogue to this saga would be some time after any of those options.

Both you and Jason finally in a healthier place where you can actually acknowledge what has been growing between you two since you were paired together all those years ago. It's not a neat and tidy happily ever after, it's messy and full of arguments, fears and misunderstandings but it's also full of tenderness, softness and love. And the sex is really good too.

If you got this far, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think? Come chat to me anytime!

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #dc imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd #dc comics #dark fic #18+#joker #TW

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 1.5}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 3.8k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

Previously:

While Snape moved back to his chair and his desk, Robin remained standing in the middle of the room. "Thank you, professor… For the Wiggenweld potion, and the spells. And especially for believing me when no one else would."

"I'm the head of this house, Miss Mitchell. That means it is my responsibility to look after you, whether you are guilty or not, which in this instance wasn't for Professor Morgan to decide."

"Will you be talking to him about this?"

"Would you like me to?" Again, an honest question. The difference was visible in his eyes more than in his tone even, and for a short moment Robin wondered what else she might find in there if she paid attention to it from now on.

"Not really." She sighed at last, then gave him a crooked smile. "I believe fighting him by his own means would only end at my disadvantage yet again. I want to be better than that."

And for once, Robin got an actual smirk in return, a real one that wasn't mocking or sarcastic. Only humored, and a little bit proud if she squinted enough. It was a beyond relieving sight, one she made sure to remember.

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

That was when a loud knocking on the door disrupted the comfortable silence of the office, of the dungeons as a whole, and his face went back to cold annoyance in an instant as he jumped back to his feet and answered the door a second later, while Robin went to collect the borrowed book she had placed on the desk earlier. Before she could pick it up however, her thoughts were drawn elsewhere.

"Severus, I've just heard from Minerva that… that you have…" The voice on the other side of the door was unmistakable, and Robin almost wanted to roll her eyes in return. Of course he would make an appearance now… what kind of pain in the ass would Professor Morgan be if he didn't show up at all the wrong times indeed?

"That you've taken the liberty to interfere in an issue of mine." Professor Morgan finally finished, but Robin still had no sight of him as Snape was strategically blocking the doorway. Maybe she should be glad for that. Silently, she moved back from the desk and further into the shadows.

"Interfere?" Snape's voice was back to that mocking and passive aggressive tone it sometimes took on during class, when students had gotten themselves into unusually big trouble. "And why would that be the case?"

"Well, uh, I would have liked to deal with the… the audacious intrusion of my office myself, for once." He stated in a feignedly confident manner, and Robin's jaw dropped. He actually had the audacity to pretend that none of this had happened and that McGonagall's version of the story was true?! Thank goodness Robin had had physical proof for Professor Snape to believe the punishment part of the story without a doubt.

"I know of no intrusion, Damion, and I can assure you I wouldn't dare to interfere in any of your affairs." The sarcasm was so strong in this statement that Robin had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from giggling. Obviously the rumors didn't stay within the student body only.

"What did you do with Miss Mitchell then, after Minerva brought her down to this… charming place?"

"It isn't of your concern." The mock was gone, but the bite so strong that Robin shuddered. Even from back here, she could faintly see the muscles in Snape's jaw clenching for a moment, and the hand he had wrapped about the edge of the door was white as a sheet from his grip on it. Obviously he was as done with Professor Morgan's attitude as Robin herself was, and the sight pleased her immensely.

"Not of my… Well, but Severus, I was clearly in the right here, and-…" Morgan didn't get to finish, as with a start both men disappeared from the door and into the hallway. Bloody hell… her potions professor obviously wasn't only as quiet as a snake but also as fast as one. Robin continued to hear muffled voices, and inched closer to the door while staying on the safe side, hidden away behind the heavy wood and long shadows.

"Your right does not include the judging nor the torture of MY student." Snape's hissed words were so dangerously low that Robin had to press her ear to the gap where the door met the wall in order to hear them at all. "You had no right to lock her into that room nor to approach her with your accusations in the first place."

"You-... You know?" Morgan's whine sounded small and scared, and Robin revelled in the sound more than she should.

"Yes, I know what you did Damion. And you would be well advised to make sure it never happens again. Otherwise, I'm certain the headmaster would be curious to hear about the incident."

"Are you threatening me, Severus?"

"Obviously."

"It's… I- I… Miss Mitchell, she…" Morgan sounded irritated, if by fear or something else Robin couldn't tell. But it sent a shiver through her body just to imagine what exactly was happening in the hallway and out of her sight.

"Yes?" Snape asked in a drawled manner, and Robin could almost imagine his eyebrow lifting with the question.

"You don't believe her, do you?"

"Every word."

"I didn't take you for the kind of man who would be fooled by a little girl." Morgan definitely laughed now, but without humor.

"Curious… I took you for exactly that kind of man." Snape's cold reply was followed by a pause that was filled with only the silence of the dungeons.

At last Morgan spoke up again, now sounding a lot less torn than before, and also a lot less mocking. Robin wondered what had changed. "I apologize for skipping over your line in command. I should have… consulted you about the issue before I approached the girl. But she cleaned the room, didn't she? Her detention is served and all is well, so where exactly is your issue?"

"My issue is that you let harm come to my student while she was supposed to be under your however illegitimate supervision!" Snape replied in yet another of his growls that broke over the ones addressed like lightning but struck deep like thunder.

"I swear, Severus, I didn't… It was just…" The whine was back in Morgan's voice, and Robin came to realize that even when she had still been only pretending to be braver than she was around Snape in the beginning of the year, she had never been quite as pathetic as her defense against the dark arts teacher was acting right now. The thought made her feel proud of herself.

"You didn't what?"

"I didn't know anyone could be stupid enough to get themselves hurt in an empty classroom!" Morgan finally pressed out, and Robin's feeling of confidence was replaced by a sudden anger that made her blood boil, right until she heard another startled yelp from the hallway.

"You-... Wh-…" Morgan croaked out, but it barely made for more than noise of pure discomfort. The whimpers continued on for three more seconds, then a loud thud put an end to it and Morgan took in a sharp breath at last.

"I apologise, Damion… Following your logic, I didn't know anyone could be stupid enough to get themselves hurt in an empty hallway." Snape stated as indifferently as ever, and Robin's jaw dropped in astonishment, but she didn't allow herself to be too impressed just yet. There was still a conversation to eavesdrop on.

"If… If the headmaster hears about this, he will…" Morgan huffed in exasperation, obviously still out of breath after whatever it was exactly that had happened out there. It couldn't have been of the pleasant kind.

"I can hardly believe that he would put more weight on a conversation between colleagues than on your wilful negligence of your duties as a professor."

"Very well then." Morgan said in an almost pouting tone, followed by more rustling of fabrics. "He won't have to hear about either of it, will he?"

"That is not for me to decide."

"Oh come on now! You cannot seriously want that child to decide over your future!"

"As it appears, about yours as well."

Morgan scoffed. "You bloody better make sure she makes the right decision." Then, after a short moment, he added, "You won't lose a word about this conversation though, will you, Severus? I can hardly imagine you wanting her to know either."

"Obviously." Snape replied in mocking lightness and innocence, and Robin had to bite her lip to keep from snorting yet again. Obviously the possibility to keep it from her had long passed.

"In that case, I believe we are done here." Professor Morgan sighed almost happily, and two seconds later Professor Snape came walking back into the office, slamming the door shut without another word, only to spot Robin standing right behind it.

"Not. A. Word." He gave her a pointed look, but his admittedly poorly hidden not-even-smirk told a different story.

While he made his way back to his desk, Robin followed to the middle of the room, then stopped and simply observed him. The not-smirk was gone, and the frown had returned to his face as he obviously avoided her eyes now.

"I won't tell." Robin said suddenly, so quickly that he had no chance to interrupt her. But her words at least made him look at her once more. "Not the headmaster, and not anyone else. I promise that."

"Miss Mitchell, the-..." Snape started ever neutrally, but Robin cut in for once.

"No. Sorry, I really don't mean to interrupt you or cut you off like that, but please let me say this…" She searched his eyes for a moment, biting down her arising nervousness for a greater good. He needed to hear this. She needed to say this. But only once he motioned for her to continue, Robin spoke on. "I know this whole… situation probably didn't really go as you intended. I know that we both made an enemy today. But I really meant what I said earlier, I don't want to play this bloody game by his rules anymore, and I don't want to play games at all. I'm not going to give him any more reason to hate me, and I certainly won't give him any reason to hate you, professor. I don't want him to get you into trouble over this nonsense. After everything you did for me, you just deserve better than that."

He actually looked quite surprised by her words for a second, but then his frown only deepened and his features hardened. "Don't."

"Huh?" Robin's confidence washed away like chalk in the pouring rain upon his grim tone.

"Don't speak to me like we are equal." He hissed at her in a sudden hostility that took her breath away. "Don't pretend to be so pathetically grown up, don't believe you know even a single thing about me, and most importantly, don't ever believe that I need pity from someone like you."

He glowered at her with a strange yet unreadable look in his eyes, and Robin suddenly felt dangerously close to crying once more. What had she done wrong?! What had she said to upset him? She had only meant to express her gratitude, to prove to him that his efforts and advice hadn't been wasted on her…. Why did he act like this now? Robin didn't understand. She didn't understand at all.

This entire night was just too much. She'd been done with the day before Morgan had approached her already, then again after the cleaning rush, once more when McGonagall had refused to believe her. This mess of emotions and reactions she didn't understand now was just the final straw to her complete and utter misery. Tears spilled down her cheeks before she could bring herself to stop them, and she knew that whatever it was that was happening right now, she had to get away at once.

"Thank you for your help tonight. I'm sorry to have bothered you." She heard herself say in the numbest tone she had ever been able to make herself use. "Goodnight, professor." With that she simply turned on her heels and left the office without waiting for a reply, without waiting to be told she could go. To hell with it, he could still give her detention tomorrow if he fancied it. Right now she only wanted to find a dark and desolate spot where she could cry her eyes out, and then to finally fall into bed.

… … …

Two hours. That's how long Robin got to sleep before the other girls in her room started getting ready for breakfast. She'd never gotten along particularly well with them, and thus it didn't come as a surprise that they made absolutely no effort to be quiet and let her sleep. Instead, it seemed rather like they made an effort to be as noisy as they possibly could be, which in return made it impossible for Robin to go back to sleep. Thus she tried to ignore her headache and tired eyes, and went ahead to start with her day as best as she could.

Once in the great hall, she luckily spotted her study group at the Ravenclaws' table soon enough and thus she was able to at least sit with someone who didn't despise her. For a while Robin simply listened to the other girls talking while she munched on her toast in tiny bits, however soon enough the conversation was stirred into her direction.

"You look awful, have you been studying all night again?" Marleen asked with a slight scolding tone, and Robin just sighed for a moment as she dropped her toast onto her plate.

"Something like that…" She murmured in return, and went to swirl her juice around her cup instead.

"What is it that you've been reading lately?"

"Oh, just… a book about mandrake."

"Mandrake? Isn't that only covered in second year herbology? Or was it in first year? I can't remember..." Jessica asked with a frown at Robin, then looked at Marleen who only shrugged. "Honestly Robin, where do you get those odd books all the time? They hardly sound like school books, leave alone books anyone would actually want to read!"

"I enjoy them…" Robin simply returned, with no intention of telling them that she was borrowing the books from Professor Snape. She had long before discovered that her study group didn't like the potions professor, and since she didn't share that sentiment at all, not even after his hurtful words from last night, she generally refused to bring him up in conversations. This way she at least wouldn't feel the need to defend him in front of other people, which would only lead to both his embarrassment and her own.

"Aaaaanyway…" Jessica tried to fill the awkward pause in conversation, "Have you guys noticed how Professor Morgan hasn't even shown up yet?"

"He never shows up for Saturday breakfast, Jess, you know that as well as I do, and..." Marleen's voice suddenly trailed off as she stared at something behind Robin's back, and Jessica's eyes followed soon after with the same odd expression in them. Robin didn't care enough to waste energy on turning around only to see someone snorting out their milk through their nose or letting their plate float, and thus she simply continued picking up the tiny crumbs that had fallen off her plate and putting them back into their place in silence. Maybe she should just leave and go to the library… or for a nice long walk down to-

"Miss Mitchell." Professor Snape's deep voice sounded from right behind her, and Robin felt both dread and relief at once. Holding her breath, she turned around to see him standing in the middle of the aisle between the tables, looking down at her as stoically as ever. Before anyone could question what he might possibly want from her, she rose to her feet to take the two necessary steps to stand in front of him.

"Professor…" She greeted him quietly, politely, but without the usual smile. For the briefest moment, she saw that inexplicable expression flash through his gaze again, the muscles in his jaw clenching, then his eyes flicked over to the Ravenclaws for a broken second and back to Robin.

"You forgot this in my office last night." He simply said, in calm neutrality instead of indifferent neutrality for once, and handed his book on mandrake to her with a look that said more than his words did.

"Thank you, sir." Robin replied quietly, and a small smile fell onto her lips at last as she realized that this might just as well be his way of not-really apologizing. It was his book after all, he had no reason to return it to her unless he cared enough to realize that she would appreciate the gesture.

"How is your… reminder of yesterday's detention?" He asked so quietly that hopefully only Robin would hear, instead of all twelve students who were currently listening in on their conversation. Seeing the feared potions professor actually talking to a student outside of class, while not yelling at them for once, must have been a surprise to most of them.

"My… oh!" Robin breathed, and a crimson heat rose to her cheeks upon the realization that she had entirely forgotten about her hands from the point on when Morgan had shown up last night. As subtly as she could, she shifted her hands around the book so that Snape got a clear view of them as she did as well. "All good as it should be."

"Very well then." He mused and looked past Robin towards the head table for a moment, then turned back to her with an odd frown and his voice even more quiet than before. "I would greatly appreciate if you could refrain from reading at breakfast today."

"Of course, sir."

Professor Snape gave her another silent look for a few seconds, then turned around on the spot and headed back towards the grand doors with his black robes flying behind him at each one of his quick strides. Wherever he passed by the tables, the students fell silent in respectfulness or intimidation, and quite a few of them turned their heads to stare at Robin who only then realized that she was still standing in the middle of the aisle. Quickly but without a haste she sat back down in her spot, placed the book in her lap, and picked up her discarded toast from her plate as if nothing had happened. Maybe one day she would get an actual apology from him for the hurtful things he had said… if she had understood his behaviors correctly and he was somewhat sorry for what he had said, that is. For today however, this had already been more than she could've hoped for. She hadn't expected him to lend her books at all anymore, leave alone actually find her to return the one she had started.

"So… are we just going to pretend that this didn't just happen right there?" Jessica finally asked with a small laugh, and the conversation started back up from there. Robin didn't comment on any of it, nor did she tell them what had been said between her and Professor Snape. She had promised it to him, and Robin always kept her promises.

… … …

As soon as it was socially acceptable to excuse herself from breakfast, Robin went to take a walk down to the black lake. She had discovered the shore, just where the forest met the edge of the water, to be an oddly calming little place, and since nobody ever seemed to come here, it had become her refuge for those times when even the dungeons were too crowded. It still was the middle of March, cold wind and dark clouds and all, but Robin had always enjoyed the gloom more than the sun anyway.

With a content but tired sigh she sat down in her usual spot, a large log from where she could overlook the lake, and opened her book at last. That was when a small piece of parchment came tumbling out of the pages and onto her lap. A frown creased her forehead, and her heart skipped a beat at the familiar spidery cursive.

Miss Mitchell.

You did a very foolish thing in promising your silence on the events of last night, however you need to know that it does not go unappreciated. You were right about one thing: both of us did make an enemy. However you should also remember that he made two in return. I don't have to tell you that having me as an enemy is not advisable, but I am led to believe that the same can be said about you. Still, if the events of last night lead to any disadvantage for you, now or at any point in the future, I expect you to find me immediately. Continue to be better, Miss Mitchell.

Professor Snape

Robin read the note twice, then smiled to herself for a moment as she looked out over the lake. This was as good an apology as anyone could probably get from the potions professor, and Robin was led to believe that not many people had ever actually received one in the first place. More and more with every encounter and every class, she was getting the impression that the cold and indifferent Professor Snape wasn't all that indifferent in the first place. That he actually cared more than he would ever admit to anyone. That there was way more to him than he let on, and all those inexplicable expressions and hidden smirks were only the peak of the iceberg. And while Robin didn't know any of that for sure, only had a vague idea at this point, she most definitely knew that she wouldn't tell anyone about her observations. But she would pay attention, and try to find out more about his many hidden expressions. She had six more years to figure him out after all, and she was sure that eventually she would.

Foremost, she also had six more years of studying potions, and she was absolutely determined to learn and improve. It was slowly turning from a favorite school subject into a real passion of hers, and a book on mandrake was merely the start to that.

With another smile and every intention to keep it for a long time to come, Robin tugged the note away into the deepest pocket of her robes, and finally opened her book on the page she had left off on the night before.

______________________________

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punksarahreese · 3 years

Note

would you.. maybe write a reesker au where you use the 68. “I don’t need help! I just want the pain to stop!”?? like, Ava is s*icidal or s*lf-h*rming and Sarah is just trying to help but Ava doesn't like to feel "weak"... only if you feel comfortable of course

Uh oh you got it <3

CW: Suicidal themes, self harm, sexual assault mention; this could be majorly triggering so please take care <3

This is from the same universe as this oneshot. Yes Connor is the bad guy but so is Cornelius :/

***

“Sarah?”

The resident looked up at the call of her name, seeing April waving her over. She had been heading to the lounge, intending to grab her bag and pick up lunch on her break. Still, the look April gave her had her a bit worried; the nurse had never looked this nervous before. Deciding her lunch could wait, Sarah crossed the ED and was a bit concerned when April immediately grabbed her sleeve and dragged her to the supply room.

“April, what’s wrong?”

Her friend sighed shakily and Sarah could see that she didn’t know how to say what she needed to. She waited, patiently urging her to tell her, not sure what to expect.

“It’s, uh… Have you seen Ava today?”

“Doctor Bekker? Not today no, why?”

April looked close to tears and that scared her, “She.. um…”

Sarah was not expecting her to hand her her phone, hands shaking more than she had ever seen. The screen was open on a message conversation, the subject of which immediately set anxiety flaring in Sarah’s gut. She must have read the texts five times before replying, trying to wrap her head around what was going on.

“Is she..?” her question died before she could finish the sentence, a billion thoughts rushing through her mind. Is she okay? Safe? Home?

“I don’t know,” April admitted, “She told me something the other day and I urged her to get help but this is… not what I expected.”

“April, what’s going on?”

“I don’t think she would want me to tell you…”

“April,” Sarah grabbed her hand gently and the touch made her make eye contact, “If she’s in danger I need to know.”

Sarah and Ava weren’t too close but they were friendly. They had had many morning coffees together while working with Robin and Ava always had a kind greeting when she passed by the ED. She liked the surgeon, considered her a colleague she could trust, but she never expected this behaviour from her. She also knew she was supposed to be at work today and it was very unlike Ava to miss a day of work, which only amplified the anxiety she felt.

“She… um… It’s about Connor.”

“What about him?”

“He… He’s been hurting her,” April mumbled, “Not physically exactly but… she said he’s been pushing her to sleep with him and being really manipulative. She sounded so scared, Sarah; it didn’t even sound like Ava.”

That sent Sarah’s blood boiling. She knew Connor could be an asshole and had a ridiculous God complex but this was way past what she expected from him. Ava wasn’t one to show fear so if she sounded scared and was confiding in one of the nurses then it must be a big deal. The text conversation was rushing through her mind again, terrified for her colleague’s wellbeing at that point.

I can’t do this anymore, April.

I don’t want to see him ever again.

It hurts too much.

April grabbed onto her wrist, staring at her friend with tearful eyes, “I’m covering for Maggie today, I can’t leave. I’m scared, Sarah, I don’t know what she’s going to do.”

Sarah nodded, checking the time on her watch, “If you cover for me I’ll go check on her, okay? Don’t tell Doctor Charles where I am… Just say I had to go take care of something.”

The nurse sighed shakily, agreeing, “Let me know, okay?”

“I’ll do my best to keep her safe.”

***

Sarah drove to Ava’s apartment purely from muscle memory, having only been there a handful of times. Her mind was racing, praying that her friend was safe until she got there. She didn’t know what to expect, terrified that Ava would do something rash before she could talk her down. Sarah wanted to think that Ava wouldn’t do it, part of her saying that the surgeon was way too smart and level-headed to do anything permanent. Still, the texts she sent April and the things she had told her Ava said made her think otherwise. The other woman was clearly terrified and in pain and Sarah genuinely wasn’t sure what she would be capable of in that mindset.

Sarah knew her apartment door would be locked and she was sure that Ava wouldn’t unlock the door if she was preoccupied or upset. Luckily, she knew that she kept another key taped onto the inside of her mail slot, which gave her some hope that she would get to Ava in time. She did still knock, calling out to her and waiting for a moment. When she didn’t hear a reply or footsteps after five minutes, Sarah knew she couldn’t risk waiting any longer.

“Ava, I’m coming inside!” she called out again as she wrestled the key from its hiding spot and unlocked the door. She slipped into the apartment, finding the immaculate kitchen and living room to be spotless and void of any sign of the surgeon. She felt her anxiety rise as she walked down the hallway, flinching when she heard a familiar voice muttering to herself, tone thick with what Sarah could only describe as agony.

“Disgusting…” Ava was saying from inside the bathroom, “How could you let this happen again? Why did you do this?”

“Ava?” Sarah nudged the bathroom door a bit so it swung open partially, her words catching as she happened upon the sight in front of her. Ava was in the bathtub, in her scrubs as if she had completely planned to go to work that day. She had a loofa in her hand and was scrubbing aggressively at her arms, which were covered in open wounds and bleeding heavily with each movement. Sarah wanted to cry at the sight, realizing her friend hadn’t acknowledged her presence yet because she was stuck in her own head.

“Oh my god, Ava…”

The surgeon finally did look up at her, cheeks stained with mascara and tears, “Go.”

“No,” Sarah was on the floor beside the bathtub in seconds, trying to keep both of them calm, “Ava, you need help.”

The blonde shook her head aggressively, her curls bouncing, “I need to get rid of him,” she continued scrubbing her skin raw as blood mixed with the bath water.

“What happened?”

“Men,” she spat tearfully, “All they do is take and destroy. I can’t believe I fell for this again. I can’t… why did I let them touch me again, Sarah?”

“Who, Ava?” she asked gently, trying to approach the situation gently. She wanted to keep her talking, keep her distracted so she could reach for the scalpel balanced on the edge of the bathtub. The blade was bloodied and evidence of its razor sharp cuts littered Ava’s body. While her chest was still covered by her scrub top, her legs were bare in the water and her thighs bore just as many cuts as her arms, if not more. This was bad, Sarah knew it was bad, and she didn’t know how long Ava would have lasted if she hadn’t arrived when she did.

“Connor… Cornelius… m-my dad…”

The words had the blonde shaking again, the sponge back to tearing at the surgically precise slices in her skin. The water was almost completely opaque and Sarah knew her cuts were too deep for her to stay there, she needed medical attention and stitches, sooner rather than later if they were going to avoid a major transfusion. This was horrible, worse than Sarah had thought. She didn’t want to press her, didn’t need to bring up the trauma now, but she could only assume the worst. April had said Connor hadn’t hurt her physically that she knew of but Sarah was totally blind to what had happened with his father or Ava’s.

“Ava… I’m so sorry,” Sarah murmured, “It’s not your fault.”

“I l-let them…”

“No, if you said no then you didn’t. If you revoked consent at any point then they should have stopped.”

She looked up at Sarah, eyes unfocused as if she couldn’t force herself to look at her properly. She was lightheaded, losing her alertness, Sarah could tell the lack of blood was getting to her.

“I can’t get clean,” she interrupted herself in a heart wrenching sob, “I s-still feel him… everywhere.”

“Ava, come here,” Sarah offered her a hand carefully, “We’ll go to med and get you cleaned up, okay?”

“No!” her screech was bloodcurdling and she was immediately drawing away from her colleague, “I c-can’t… he- He’s there, no. I can’t see him again.”

Sarah tried to hush her, apologizing softly, “No, he won’t be allowed near you. I can even ask Kim to come stand outside your room, okay? He’ll never touch you again.”

“No… no no no.”

“Ava, you need help; let me help.”

Ava was shaking her head fiercely, the sponge dropping into the reddened water, “I don’t need help! I just need… I need the pain to stop!”

Before Sarah could even blink she was scrambling for the scalpel, bloodied hands gripping the thing shakily. She didn’t listen to Sarah’s pleading and just swatted her hands away, pressing the blade to her neck just enough for a red mark to become readily visible.

“Ava, no. Please,” Sarah was crying, begging her to stop. She knew if she tried to grab at the thing the surgeon would only slice through her carotid before she could stop her. She had never been in a situation like this before, not with someone actively threatening her life. She remembered the aftermath of Jason’s death, the evidence of his end all over the sidewalk. That had been hard enough, knowing she hadn't been there for him when he needed someone the most. If Ava did it now, when she was right there, Sarah wasn’t sure how she would react.

“I can’t do this, Sarah…” she was still sobbing, blade pressed to her skin a bit harder, “My life is ruined.”

“No, it’s not. Ava, please.”

Ava pointed to the toilet, making Sarah turn to see what she was shakily gesturing to. Balanced precariously on top of the lid was a piece of plastic and Sarah could see two more in the trash can. The doctor in her knew what it was immediately but she didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want it to be real for Ava’s sake. Upon further inspection, she saw two little pink lines on the thing, finally cluing in to what was going on. She wanted to cry even more, her heart breaking for Ava. She didn’t know if it was Connor’s or Cornelius’, didn’t want to ask, just knew that neither option would be good.

“I-”

“I’m s-sorry, Sarah…”

Before Sarah could even properly react, before her eyes even caught sight of the motion, her ears were filled with a cry of agony. She couldn’t reach Ava fast enough, the scalpel doing its job too well as it slid easily through the skin on the left side of her neck. Sarah screamed, she must have because her throat ached immediately, but she barely heard it. Her hand was pressed to Ava’s wound immediately, hands scrabbling to grab at any towel or fabric nearby. She was crying so much she couldn’t see, vision cloudy as she tried to staunch the flow of blood from the wound. She was pleading with Ava, begging her to stay with her even though deep down she knew she wouldn’t be able to. A part of her wished she would fall unconscious, not wanting her to experience such pain, but that would be worse. She knew she screamed for help and then yelled at her siri to call 911 because she couldn’t fish her phone out of her pocket with one hand. It was all so fuzzy, her memories clouded by pain and fear. She was trying so hard to stay focused, to save Ava, but she was shaking so badly she just wanted it to end.

I just want the pain to end.

#GOODBYE IM SO SORRY FOR THIS #PLEASE DONT HATE ME I MADE MYSELF CRY AGSJDKD #I kinda moved away from your prompt I hope that’s okay #ava bekker #sarah reese #rhekker #connor rhodes #cornelius rhodes #self harm tw #suicide tw #ask to tag #asks #anon #my-writing #recovery #trauma!au #my aus

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years

Text

Sins of the Past Pt.25

Wonderland. Town Square. (Lizard and Will walk together down the busy streets.) Lizard: “Why risk your life going back for Ella? I mean, you promised you'd help her find answers and now she has them. And how does she thank you? She jumped on a dragon and hightailed it out of Wonderland.” Will: “You've got a point there.” Lizard: “I'm just saying you've been through a lot, fulfilled all your obligations. Don't you think you deserve a little ‘Knave time’?” Will: “Well I could use a chance to catch me breath.” Lizard: “Exactly.” Will: “If it weren’t for the fact that Ella’s probably on her way back to kill whomever it was that killed her mother! So why don’t you tell me where you found this Oracle and what she looks like?” Lizard: “Okay, calm down. The Oracle found me.” Will: “What, she came to your house?” Lizard: “Yeah, I had just come home to grab a quick shower when there was a knock at my door.” Will: “And she told you she had the answer to Ella’s quest?” Lizard: “No... I’m not exactly certain how it happened come to think of it, but I took Ella to see the Oracle, sure.” Will: “All right, so what did she look like, this Oracle?” Lizard: “Tall, blonde - your basic nightmare. She wore this red dress with silver trim and her eyes glowed like nothing I’d ever seen before.” Idirsholas. (Morgause walks behind tall cobwebbed figures in the chamber of an empty old castle and lights a fire in the middle of the circle of figures. Positioning herself above the Cup of Life, Morgause slices her arm, allowing the blood to trickle down into the Cup. Raising it high with both hands, she begins to chant.) Morgause: “Cnihtas Medhires, éower sáwla sind min sáwla. Onwác and cóm hér eft. Rid eft ond forsliehð eft!” (The stone figures begin to move.)

Storybrooke. Will & Tiana's Apartment. (Ella stands whisking eggs absentmindedly, staring off into space.) Tiana: “Okay, I don't mean to micromanage you, but...” Ella: "What? (Sees Tiana take the pot next to Ella off the boil:) Ooh. Thanks.” Tiana: “Mm-hmm. Let me guess. Writer boy's on your mind, not baking.” Ella: “I’m sorry, I’ve got a lot going on.” Tiana: “I know you do, which is why I was surprised when you turned up here offering to help with dessert.” Ella: “I just needed to get out of the house, you know?” Tiana: “Sure. Any word from Henry?” Ella: “No, nothing yet, but the plan was simple enough. Switch the tiara’s and let the truth come out.” Tiana: “So I guess that’s not what’s bothering you?” Ella: (Sighs:) “I found out something back in Wonderland, something bad.” Tiana: “Ruh roh.” Ella: “And I keep going back and forth on whether to believe it’s true or not. What would you do if someone you thought you knew did something unforgivable?” Tiana: “Okay, Miss non-specific, how bad of a thing are we talking?” Ella: (Shakes her head:) “I can’t say, at least not yet.” Tiana: “Hm. Well, if it were me, I’d confront this person. I’d hear their side of things and if I didn’t like what they had to say, I’d chop off one of their favourite body parts, (Puts her arm around Ella, making her smile:) deep fry it and serve it to them. But you know, that’s just me.” Ella: “Yeah.” Tiana: “Hey, whatever it is, you’ve got to face it head on. You know, like an adult. No more games. Life’s too damn short for games.” (Ella nods, watching Tiana retrieve more eggs from the fridge, still unsure what she intends to do.) Swan-Mills House. Kitchen. (A montage of cooking scenes. Emma chopping and slicing, Zelena stirring and tasting, Regina stuffing and cooking. The counters are covered with flour, cooking utensils and baking trays. When Emma tosses an egg to Regina, she effortlessly catches it and cracks it into a bowl. Everyone works in harmony with each other, until Emma's phone rings.) Emma: "Hello? Yeah, I'll be right there. That was David, he's over at the campsite, there are a few drunken stragglers giving him some trouble, I better go help him out." (After leaning over the counter to kiss Regina on the cheek, Emma leaves the kitchen.)

Hallway. (Brushing flour off her jeans, Emma heads towards the front door when Regina calls out to her.) Regina: "Hey." Emma: (Turns:) "Hey." Regina: "Seems our plans for retirement are going to have to be put off for a little while, huh?" Emma: "Yeah, I guess. But Lily's tough, she'll bounce back quickly." Regina: "Hm. Speaking of bouncing back, you just make sure you're back by curtain time, all right?" Emma: "Are you kidding? 'Gina, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Regina: (Smiles:) "Well you better not. I don't care how many people are there tonight when I'm performing, as far as I'm concerned I'm dancing for an audience of one." Emma: "I will be there, front row center. I promise." (They kiss.) Regina: "Good. Now go round up those drunks." Emma: "Will do, Superstar." Arendelle. (Lily is laying on her side on the bed when Elsa enters. Standing over her, Elsa tenderly strokes Lily's hair which brings her out of her reverie.) Elsa: "Are you okay?" Lily: "I'll live. (Pats the bed beside her:) Come lay with me awhile." (Elsa nods and crawls up the bed towards her. Nestling in behind Lily, Elsa places a protective arm around her waist and Lily takes Elsa's hand, lacing their fingers together.) Camelot. Morgana's Chambers. (Morgana enters her room and finds her window open and a little box on her window ledge. She opens it and reads the note placed inside, her hands obscuring pieces of the message.)

“My dearest Morgana, Meet me tonight after sundown in …outside the castle gates. I will…the marked and distinctive… Until then, keep…”

Guinevere: (Standing behind her:) “Are you all right?” (Morgana crumples the note and turns to face Guinevere.) Morgana: “Yes, just a little cold.” Guinevere: “Do you need something warmer?” Morgana: (Smiles:) “No, thank you.” Guinevere: (Watches Morgana close the window:) “I’d like you to join me in the council chamber, if you’re feeling up to it?” Morgana: “Of course.” Council Chamber. (With several courtiers, knights and Xena and Gabrielle gathered, a man with a heavy bag over his shoulder stands before the Queen.) Joseph: “I’m a herder from the northern plains, Your Majesty. We were camped beneath the walls of Idirsholas.” Guinevere: “I’m not sure I would’ve chosen such a place.” Joseph: “Good pasture is scarce at this time of year, Your Majesty.” Guinevere: “And what is it you have to tell me?” Joseph: “While we were there we, we saw smoke rising from the citadel.” (Guinevere glances at Lancelot who looks unnerved by this.) Lancelot: “And did you see anything else?” Joseph: “No.” Guinevere: “Did you go inside?” Joseph: “No. Nobody has stepped over that threshold for three hundred years! You must know the legend, Your Majesty.” Morgana: “When the fires of Idirsholas burn, the knights of Medhir will ride again.” (Guinevere stares at Morgana for a moment then addresses one of the knights.) Guinevere: “See to it this man is fed and has a bed for the night. Take a ride out there.” Morgana: “No. (Corrects herself:) I mean, why do such a thing?” Guinevere: “So we can put people’s minds at rest.” Morgana: “Surely this is superstitious nonsense?” Guinevere: “If our experiences with dark magic has taught us anything, it’s that anything is possible. (To Lancelot:) Gather the guard.” (Lancelot nods and leaves. Guinevere stands and the courtiers begin to disperse leaving only Xena, Gabrielle and Morgana that remain.) Gabrielle: “Why is Lancelot so worried?” Guinevere: “Because the Knights of Medhir are a force to be reckoned with.” Morgana: (Cutting in:) “Don’t tell me you believe the story as well?” Guinevere: “It’s more than a story, Morgana. Some three hundred years ago, seven of Camelot’s knights were seduced by a sorcerer’s call. One by one, they succumbed to her power. At her command, they became a terrifying and brutal force that rode through the lands leaving death and destruction in their wake.” Xena: “What happened?” Guinevere: “It was only after the sorceress herself was killed that the Knights of Medhir finally grew still. Xena, if what Joseph says is true, then something has awoken them, and I fear for each and every one of us.” Gabrielle: “Don’t worry, your highness, Xena and I will ride out with Lancelot and the others.” Guinevere: “Thank you.” (Guinevere leaves the room. Before Morgana can follow her, Xena draws her sword and blocks Morgana’s path.) Xena: “A sorceress huh? Now who do we know that fits that description?” Morgana: “You cannot detain me like this! Move out of my way.” Xena: “You may have Guinevere fooled, but not me. If I find out you or any member of your family is behind this, I won’t hesitate.” Morgana: “My sister’s actions are her own. They’re nothing to do with me.” Xena: “Right.” (Xena re-sheathes her sword, allowing Morgana to pass and leave the room. Sharing a knowing look, Xena and Gabrielle hurry from the chamber to catch up with Lancelot.)

Storybrooke. Woods. (Walking through the woods together, Emma and David search for any troublemakers still making camp in the forest.) Emma: "You'd have thought with Guinevere back on the throne the people of Camelot would want to be there for her coronation. Or re-coronation, if that's a thing." David: "Once is usually enough for a coronation, but Camelot always has done things differently. As far as Guinevere's concerned, no ruler is universally liked, maybe people were looking for an excuse to leave and the recent upheaval was their chance?" Emma: "Maybe, but I doubt camping in the forest is a much better alternative." David: "Well, we've combed every part of this area. Want to meet up with Robin Hood and his men, see if they've noticed anyone?" Emma: "Sure, why not. Just as long as we're back before dark." David: "Oh that's right, Regina's performing tonight. That reminds me, Snow asked if it would be appropriate for us to bring Neal to the show?" Emma: "Is it ever okay to bring a minor into a bar?" David: (Chuckles:) "I think you can trust us not to give him any alcoholic beverages. He's bad enough with sugar." Emma: "I mean, I don't have a problem with it. I just don't think my brother needs to be there to see me throw my panties onstage during Regina's performance. But it's your call." (Emma keeps walking while David stands stock still, trying to shake that mental image out of his head.) Kingdom of Valencia. Hall of Ceremonies. (In what has turned out to be a busy day for Geoffrey of Monmouth, the hall is filled with onlookers as Catrina's coronation is about to take place.) Geoffrey: “We are gathered here to bear witness to the naming of Queen Catrina as the rightful heir to Valencia. (Turns to her:) Are you willing to take the oath?” Catrina: (While Gareth looks on smitten, still wearing the amulet, Catrina picks up the tiara from the ceremonial cushion and places it on her head:) “I am.” Geoffrey: “Do you solemnly swear to govern the people of Valencia, to uphold the laws and customs of the land?” Catrina: “I…do.” (Scratches her arm.) Geoffrey: “Will you, to your power cause law and justice in mercy to be executed in all your judgments?” Catrina: (Continues scratching:) “I will.” Geoffrey: “Will you, to the utmost of your powers… (Catrina checks her arm and sees troll skin:) …maintain the laws…” Catrina: “Yes, yes.”

Geoffrey: “I’m sorry, you-you must let me finish. The wording must be exactly right to be binding.” Catrina: “Well, get on with it then. I mean, really, where did you dig up this old crone from?” Gareth: “She’s right. Get on with it.” Geoffrey: “Will you, to the utmost of your powers…” Catrina: (Scratching even more:) “Yes, yes.” Geoffrey: “…maintain the laws and customs…” Catrina: “I will, I will.” Geoffrey: “…of the land, and serve the people of Valencia?” Catrina: “Yes! Just shut up and get out of my way!” (The court gasps while Catrina runs out of the Hall of Ceremonies.) Gareth: “Catrina!” Corridor. (Gareth follows her into the corridor followed shortly by Roberta, Richard and Henry. Catrina tries to find a way to escape.) Gareth: “Catrina!” (Guards point him toward the throne room.) Camelot. Upper Corridor. (Morgana sneaks through the castle and peeks around the corner at some guards. She descends to the burial vaults, sets fire to some brush and places it in a notch in the wall to create smoke in the corridor above. The guards investigate, leaving the corridor empty. Pleased that her plan worked, Morgana continues along the corridor undetected.)

Kingdom of Valencia. Throne Room. Gareth: “Catrina!” (Richard and Henry close the doors so Catrina can’t escape.) Gareth: “Whatever’s the matter?” Catrina: “I’m sorry… (Hides troll arm:) I don’t know what came over me. I, I just suddenly felt so hot. I, do you know, I think I need to be on my own, alright?” Roberta: (Innocently:) “Are you alright?” Catrina: “Yes, yes, I’m, I’m fine. Really, thank you. I just… (Richard locks the door:) Oh come on. Come on. (Her voice rough and raspy:) Open!” Gareth: “Let me. (Gareth sees Catrina’s troll arm and backs away:) What’s that?” (Catrina begins to transform.) Roberta: (Dryly:) “Oh my, what’s happening?" (Catrina completely transforms into a hideous creature.) Richard: (Pointing:) “You’re a troll!” (The Troll gasps and Gareth’s reverie is broken.) Gareth: “How dare you speak about her like that!” Richard: “What is wrong with you? Look at the state of her!” Henry: “I don’t believe it.” (The troll rips open the door and exits with a snarl.) Richard: “She just ripped a door off its hinges. Doesn’t that tell you something?” Gareth: “Enough!” Richard: “She’s a troll! A giant…grey…” Henry: “Stinking.” Richard: “Stinking troll!” Gareth: “Stop it! Haven’t you hurt her feelings enough? Insult Catrina again, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” (Richard, Roberta and Henry stare slack-jawed at Gareth as he picks up Catrina’s shoes and exits.) Gareth’s Chambers. (Gareth follows Catrina to his chambers, before he can enter however, Roberta catches up with him and snatches the amulet from around his neck.) Roberta: “I’ll take that, thank you.” (Roberta shoves Gareth through the door. No longer under the amulet’s control, Gareth stares at the Troll for the first time.) Gareth: “Catrina? What kind of trickery is this?” Troll: “How I’ve suffered these last few days. Allowing you to touch me! Having to share a bed with you!” Gareth: “Ugh.” Troll: “It’s repulsive.” Gareth: “I know the feeling.” Troll: “Ooh, I’ve been looking forward to this.” Gareth: (Feeling nauseous:) “Guards! Seize…it!” (The Troll throws Gareth aside then fights off Richard and the guards. Jonas arrives and goes for Henry, but Henry runs him through. The Troll attacks Roberta but Richard literally pulls the rug out from under the Troll; she lands on her back and, recovering, Gareth takes his sword and finally runs her through.) Storybrooke. Forest. (Still searching in the woods, Emma stops for a moment to answer her phone.) Emma: (To David:) "It's Regina. (Answers:) Hey, babe. (Looks at her phone:) Huh, that's odd. (Phone beeps:) She left me a video message." Regina: (Via message:) "Hi, sweetie. I hope you've had a wonderful day tracking down troublemakers, but as you can see by the view behind me, the sun is setting. Which means it will soon be dark and time for my performance. Now while you did promise me you'd be there and I trust you with all of my heart, just in case you're stuck at the station I wanted to give you a little preview in the hopes it might... focus your mind on what's important." (David watches Emma while she watches Regina's message. Noticing her cheeks get redder and her jaw drop, he takes pity on his daughter.) David: "All right, no need to say anything, just go and I'll finish up here." Emma: (Tearing herself away from her phone screen, smiles at him:) "Thanks, Dad." (Without another word, Emma waves her hand and vanishes in a cloud of smoke.) Camelot. Woods. Sundown. (Morgana rushes toward Morgause who waits for her in the forest.) Morgause: “Where have you been?” Morgana: “I am watched closer than ever in the castle. The Warrior Princess does not trust me.” Morgause: “Do not worry. The Knights of Medhir have been awakened and are under my command.” Morgana: “Then it is time?” Morgause: “The knights are mighty, but they cannot bring down the city on their own. You, too, must play your part.” Morgana: “Tell me what I must do.” (Morgause holds out a staff.) Morgause: “It’s carved from the Rowan tree that grows at the very heart of the Isle of the Blessed. Only the High Priestesses and their Bloodguard have ever set eyes on it.” Morgana: “My magic is... do you believe I have the strength to wield such an instrument?” Morgause: “Do not worry. The staff will guide you. It carries its own power.” Morgana: (Takes the staff:) “I will not fail you.”

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

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persephonescat · 5 years

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Birds and Other Supernatural Phenomenons

Hiiii! This is… long. Probably the longest chapter I’m going to have, but it’s all only one scene and I just couldn’t cut it in half. Thank you for your comments! They make my whole week! Some of you pointed out a few mistakes in the last chapter, I hope it’s all good now! ^^ And please tell me if there are any weird sentences or typos or anything. Multiple people told me that the last chapter’s storm came very suddenly, so I re-read the sixth chapter and as it turns out, the sentence about the weather was lost in the editing. It all looked very dark and moody in my head, so I didn’t notice there was no description of it. Thank you for telling me, I’m definitely going to correct that.

(I think we should call this fic BaOSP in the future when we’re just talking about it in the comments or on Discord or just in general, bc this title is really long… The title and the tags will stay the same of course, it’s just that from now on, BaOSP is the official (???) shortened version of it.)

Damian meets Marinette, I REPEAT, DAMIAN MEETS MARINETTE.

Ch. 1 Previous Masterpost AO3

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Ch. 8: Lord Annoyance

It was Monday night and Damian Wayne already hated the week.

Tim finally passed out on Saturday and did nothing but sleep all weekend, so on one hand, now he was capable of speaking in full sentences. On the other hand, all of his sentences were about the process of etching and nobody knew why, so it wasn’t any less problematic.

Dick came home with several holes in his shoe and refused to speak about it.

Jason didn’t eat anything but pork for a week straight and this morning he swore to go vegetarian.

Bruce was in the process of finding new hobbies - Tim said it was midlife crisis, Jason said the old man was finally going crazy and Cass was out of town, so she just yelled at them via video chat. Barbara and Steph laughing their asses off every time the topic came up didn’t help either, but after seeing the anvil in the living room while going to get breakfast, Damian was starting to agree with Jason.

On top of it all, some idiot under the name of Dark Nomad killed a chicken, painted obscene pictures on the walls of one of Bruce’s apartments with its blood, then for some reason, they stole some garden interior and part of the fence. Just fantastic.

And guess who had to track him down and arrest him? Robin. Because his family was a bunch of freaking sadists.

On top of it all, when he finally arrived on the rooftop where the petty villain was spotted two days in a row, the idiot wasn’t alone.

Robin landed quietly, hid behind a metal staircase leading the upper parts of the building and stopped to listen to the conversation going down between the two shadowy forms. He was already planning revenge in the back of his mind - it would’ve been ridiculously easy to poison at least two out of his three brothers. Not too badly but enough for them to have an unpleasant couple of days.

“Did you manage to sleep during the day, or should I be worried about you suddenly falling down from here because of exhaustion?” one of the forms asked flatly, a young girl sitting on the edge of the roof. She looked tiny compared to the Nomad sitting beside her, but she didn’t seem to be afraid at all. Her body language was taunting and open, her dark hair shimmered in the light coming from the streets below as she turned her head towards the boy. She had a slight French accent.

“Nah, I had double English in the afternoon, so I’m good,” the Nomad said, playing with a stray thread on his hoodie. “You?”

“I slept on the bus…” the girl started, trailing off. She tilted her head, concentrating on something. “Could you give me a minute?” she asked, standing up. For a moment, Damian felt relieved. She was already leaving.

Then she turned towards him.

She could’ve just heard something. She could’ve just checked out the area. It could’ve been a coincidence, but she was staring right at him, even though he was sure he wasn’t visible in the dark.

She walked towards his hiding place with no hesitation or fear. He was standing there motionlessly as she got closer. He studied her form, looking for weapons and weak points. She was wearing a warm cardigan with jeans and dark boots. He eyed her scarf and gloves suspiciously. It wasn’t that cold, but he didn’t see anything hidden in them.

Her red lipstick matched her scarf, her hair was tied into a loose braid coming forward at the side of her neck, dancing gracefully when a light breeze caught it. Her body language was still way too open and she foolishly grabbed the railing of the staircase before peeking behind it, leaving her torso even more vulnerable.

If he was ever planning on confronting her, he would’ve changed his mind after that. She was clearly harmless when it came to physical combat.

What the hell was she doing here, then?

“Can I help you?” she asked, looking at where his mask covered his eyes. Her voice was toneless and her accent was gone. Robin wondered if he was just imagining it earlier. Maybe he was too deep in his thoughts to pay attention.

It happened a lot nowadays. Him, getting lost in his thoughts and not paying attention. At first, it annoyed him - and scared the living daylight out of him, not as if he was about to tell that to anyone. Now he knew it was part of being human. It meant he was getting healthier, as Alfred put it. Making mistakes was part of life and he wanted to have a life, right?

Yes, he did.

Sometimes he looked at Bruce and his sorry brothers and realized that he already had a one. It made him feel weird. Happy, probably, but it was a new kind of happy. It made him want to smile at the most random times and help Alfred with chores. It made him have this… desire to go after Bruce when he disappeared to his garden to calm down, to bring home some donuts for Dick every time he passed that shop he liked, to take Jason to Disneyland on his birthday, to make Cass smile more often, to pull up the security footages from the Cave on his computer, so he could check on Tim without him knowing.

It was terrifying and he wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the world.

“Robin?” the girl asked impatiently. Damn, he zoned out. He cleared his throat, trying to find the right thing to say.

“Errm… do you realize you are sitting with a criminal?” Good job, Damian, your brothers would be proud. Why not ask her her favorite color too, maybe that will help. He was prepared to hear Jason’s amused words through the comms, but surprisingly, his brother stayed quiet.

“Are you concerned about my safety?” The girl narrowed her eyes.

He straightened his back and cleared his mind.

“Actually, I’m here to arrest the Dark Nomad,” he told her, trying to sound professional. Not as if it mattered anymore.

“Why?”

“Damaging private property, theft, and vandalism.”

“Could you elaborate? Picking flowers in a park could be considered all three of those.” Her voice was mocking now.

Damian stared at her. She was at least a head shorter than him, with no weapons. He was Robin. She was either incredibly dangerous or very stupid, and he had a hard time believing in the first scenario.

“He killed an animal, draw obscene pictures on the street with its blood, did damage that’s repairing will take hundreds of dollars, stole garden interior… should I continue?”

“When did he do all that?” the girl asked. She didn’t seem surprised at all.

“Why would I tell you?” frowned Robin. “I’m here to arrest him, that’s the only important thing.” Harmless or not, she was getting annoying.

“Well, you can’t legally make arrests given that you’re not a police officer, which means that you have absolutely no reason to be here. You might as well go home,” she explained simply. Her voice was toneless again, she spoke as if she was just stating facts, - which she did, after all.

Damian’s blood was starting to boil. Did the psychopaths roaming this city have a right to murder people? No. Did they have any right to hurt civilians? No. Was any of the things they did legal? No.

Who was this kid to come and tell him about rights, when his family seemed to be the only ones protecting them?

The girl was looking at him as if she was staring into his soul, then suddenly, she smirked.

“Not as if that would stop you,” she said, and Robin looked at her quizzically. “But I have a feeling that you’re after the wrong guy, so if you told me when he did all that, it would clear a few things.”

He was lost. What did this girl want? She was too weird to be stupid. She let the railing go now and was standing with her arms at her sides, her head slightly tilted.

“Today, between two and three AM,” he told her finally, curious about her reaction.

She stared right into his eyes, even though his mask was hiding them and said, “He was with me.”

Robin didn’t see anything about her body language betraying her, but she must’ve noticed he didn’t believe her because she continued.

“We were talking about Tamás Vekerdy and Bruno Bettelheim. They’re psychologists who often write about children. He arrived around midnight, and when he left it was already past five in the morning, so there is no way he could’ve done anything unless he has an evil twin.”

He scoffed angrily. When he spoke again, he was hissing the words from behind his clenched teeth.

“These things don’t take long. He might’ve just slipped away for a few minutes and came back, unless of course if you were in the same position for five hours.” He might’ve also growled a little. He was standing only inches from her now, looming over her.

“That’s not too hard to check, your Highness.” She cocked her head and held his gaze fearlessly. “Where did all this happen?”

He was about to bite back but he stopped abruptly.

Okay, so he might’ve been a little wrong. If the girl was telling the truth, the guy should’ve disappeared for at least one and a half hours to get to the scene from here. Not as if that meant anything, she could’ve easily lied. He just didn’t notice it.

A voice saved him from having to answer.

“Marinette? Is everything okay?” The Dark Nomad was walking towards them. When he noticed Robin, a terrified expression took over his confused one. He was about to go and stand between the girl and the vigilante when she lifted her arm to stop him, not moving her gaze away from Robin. The Nomad looked like a caged animal but didn’t try to fight her.

“Lord Annoyance here states that last night, you cloned yourself between The Book of Diaries and NurtureShock, and went to draw booties and steal a bunch of garden gnomes.”

The Nomad opened his mouth to say something but Robin beat him to it.

“Okay, so first of all, it wasn’t just "booties” and they were drawn with blood, which makes it considerably worse.“ Jason, who was listening to everything he said trough the comms the whole time, chose that moment to burst out laughing. He did his best to ignore him.

"Second of all, a lot of things were stolen, not just…” yep, that sentence was a bad idea, “Garden gnomes.”

“Why do you think he did it in the first place?” the girl, - Marinette cut back.

“It was private property. There was a camera.”

“Whose?”

He took a second to consider the possible fallback of the answer. The existence of Bruce Wayne wasn’t a secret. Neither was the fact that he owned multiple buildings around the city. Maybe it was going to scare the villain enough that he confesses.

“Bruce Wayne’s,” he said finally. The girl’s undisturbed expression made him feel uneasy. “Have you heard of him?”

“Oh, you mean that’s who the big ass tower in the middle of the city is named after? I thought it was the ship name of watery rain or way of pain or something.” Her words were dripping from sarcasm.

‘Who are you talking to? What did they say?’ asked Jason like an excited child but Damian once again ignored him.

“Well, I’m sorry, but his alibi is pretty shaky, you know. Villains can be very convincing here, in case you didn’t notice.” He didn’t think this guy could convince anyone, but it was possible.

“Yeah, his ski mask really makes me shake in fear,” Marinette said flatly.

The villain finally got a chance to say something but his moment didn’t last long.

“It’s not a-”

“Yes, it is. Shut up.” Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose. “He is wearing a hoodie and a mask ever since… birth, probably. How did anyone recognize him?”

“He left his signature,” Robin told her. He wasn’t even angry anymore, he was just very annoyed.

Marinette froze. She almost seemed to forget about Robin as she finally broke eye contact and turned around.

“You… have a signature?” she asked the Dark Nomad, who was still standing behind her, ready to jump at any moment.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. It reminded Robin of a distressed duck.

“Kinda,” he said quietly.

“Why would you do that?” asked Marinette, gesticulating wildly.

“It’s part of the aesthetic, okay?” he explained with a hurt expression.

“Hey, I’m accusing you of a crime here!” reminded them Robin. This was taking way longer than he wanted it to.

Marinette once again turned to him, let out a deep breath and arranged her face into a more professional expression.

Finally.

“Right,” she started seriously. She gave him a second to compose himself, then continued. “Boobs.”

The Dark Nomad snorted, but Marinette just gave him an unimpressed look and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Okay, so tell Mr. Wayne, that he should be looking for another idiot because I was looking after this one at the time.”

Before he could answer, he heard Jason’s voice in his ear.

'There is a robbery going down at Chucko’s. I’m going in.’

Damian cursed quietly.

“Don’t. Wait for me. I’ll be there in two,” he told him, placing his fingers on the comm so the two people standing in front of him knew he wasn’t speaking to them.

“I have to go,” he told them quickly, then took off before they could do as much as blink.

***

Marinette ran after the vigilante but stopped at the edge of the roof. She saw a dark form jumping over rooftops. After a few seconds, it disappeared and relief rushed over her body.

She was way too tired to think about how she just got into an argument with one of Gotham’s heroes.

She closed her eyes and turned to go back to her room. She needed to sleep. A lot.

“You’re kinda terrifying when you’re sleep-deprived, did you know that?” said Jeremy, coming out from behind the metal staircase.

“I always am,” answered Marinette, still not opening her eyes.

“Do you mean terrifying or sleep-deprived?” asked Jeremy confusedly.

Marinette gave him a small wave, then climbed back to the hotel without a word.

________________

*Quiet chanting* comments, comments, comments

*Chanting intensifies* comMEnts, COMments, coMMENTS

*Thunder*

*The flattering of wings and the sounds of scared birds*

*Chanting* COMMENTS, COMMENTS, COMMENTS, COMMENTS

Ch. 1 Previous Masterpost AO3

Tag list: (You want to get on the tag list? Send a comment! You should be on the tag list but you aren’t? Send a comment! You would like to discuss world peace and/or brownies? Send a comment!)

@northernbluetongue @vgirl-10123 @theatreandcomicfreak @interobanginyourmom @crazylittlemunchkin @zerotosiki @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @my-name-is-michell @shreky-boi@coltaire @7-sage-7 @kris-pines04 @winter-gardenflower

#Birds and Other Supernatural Phenomenons #Lord Annoyance #maribat #marinette x damian #marinette dupain-cheng #damian x marinette #damari #damiette #daminette #damian wayne #batman #dcu #writerblr #fanfiction #mlb

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once-upon-a-ouat · 5 years

Text

“Cast a Light in the Darkness Wrapped around My Heart”

Archie wakes up to find the bed empty and the worries running rampant in Zelena’s mind as they are both faced with the issue of good parenting. A Wicked Cricket AU for @intothewickedwood who introduced me to the concept of this ship.

Read FFN or AO3

Archie jolted awake from a dream he could barely remember. It had to do with an empty bed in the next room and an out of control flying broom and that was still enough for him to figure out the worries that his mind was occupied by but he preferred not to lose sleep over self psychoanalysis for which the morning was as good a time as any other.

He reached for his wife in the darkness of the night but his hand was met with cold sheets instead of her warm sleeping form. That was enough to make him forget sleep and toss the covers aside to get out of bed and go look for Zelena.

He saw light coming from the kitchen when he stepped out of the bedroom and headed there to find her boiling a pot of tea. At three in the morning. She was losing sleep even without self psychoanalysis as the cause for it. Or maybe that was exactly what was keeping her awake. She was so lost in thought that he could tell he was preoccupied with being hard on herself and that was why she didn’t hear him approach.

He knocked lightly on the door frame to snap her out of her thoughts as gently as possible.

She turned around to look at him, no surprise in her eyes since he’d made it very clear it was him and not who she really wished to see.

“Hey,” he greeted. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked the obvious because he didn’t want to force her to talk about something she didn’t want to. It was clear to both of them what was on her mind–on both their minds, really–so he left her the choice whether to discuss it.

Zelena sighed and leaned back on the kitchen counter behind her. “I’m worried about Robin,” she said, looking distressed enough to actually admit it.

“You know she’s safe with Alex and her family,” Archie said, not trying to dismiss her worries but to reassure her. Ella had called earlier to tell them that Robin was at their place and would stay overnight. She’d ran away after another fight with her mom and Archie and Zelena had agreed that it would be better to leave her be now that they knew her whereabouts rather than drag her back home where she’d hole herself up in her room, not missing the opportunity to slam the door on her way in.

“I know,” Zelena said as she crossed her arms. Her concern hadn’t completely dissipated but that was to be expected. She was a mother who’d had her daughter storm out of the house in the middle of a fight. She’d only truly calm down when Robin was safe and sound in her arms. But it was apparent that that wasn’t the only thing on her mind. She would’ve fallen asleep by now otherwise. As unpleasant as it was to acknowledge, that was far from the first time Robin had run away during an argument with her mom. And knowing Zelena, that was exactly what was keeping her up.

“Or do you mean that you’re worried about her in general?” he asked, nudging her to talk, get it off her chest. But only if she wanted to. Forcing her to be vulnerable could have a counterproductive effect when she was already upset.

“We don’t stop fighting,” Zelena said, unfolding her arms in a frustrated gesture before letting them fall at her sides. She held his gaze. “Am I a bad mother?” she asked, the words throwing him into shock with their bluntness. And the straight face she popped the question with seemed convincing enough of a facade if not for her eyes to give away how scared she was of the answer. Yet, that also told him that she trusted him to tell her the truth and the knowledge washed over him with the warm security that he’d be able to help her.

“No,” Archie stated firmly. “Never think that,” he said as he crossed the room and grasped gently at her upper arms, hoping that his touch would give the words tangibility and gravitas. “Do you hear me?” he asked, eyes locked with hers.

Zelena nodded slowly, uncertainly.

“You’re a great mother,” he continued as he wished she could see herself through his eyes. He’d seen all the smiles on her face every morning after she’d sent Robin off to school and all the tears falling from her eyes after a fight between the two of them that had escalated. He’d seen all the emotions she’d kept from Robin to protect her from them, all the fears and worries about the future, and all the encouragement and support she’d shown her. And he wished she’d see them, too, but the darkness in her mind was too thick for her to see through. “It’s just that both you and Robin are strong-headed,” he tried to battle the doubts by giving them a sense of normalcy to shrink them in size and make them easier to defeat. She’d faced many monsters in her life, though he knew that those in her mind had always been hardest to fight. “It’s normal for your characters to clash,” he reassured once again. “Especially now that she’s trying to find out who she is and where she fits in the world.”

Zelena gave a small smile that lacked its usual radiance. “Spoken like a therapist,” she teased.

Archie felt his sides heating up and let go of her arms, unable to even focus on her obvious attempt to deflect. He still had his own doubts about the morality of their relationship. She’d used to go to him for therapy because she’d wanted to be a better person and a better mother to her daughter. They’d worked through a lot of her emotional baggage before they’d both felt there’d been no need for their sessions anymore. Yet, they’d stayed friends, used to the other’s presence in their lives, and Robin had taken a liking to him as well, always running to him and extending her little arms to him in a plea to pick her up. So they’d gone for walks and had had dinner a few times a month, then a few days a week, until they’d made their way into a relationship.

He was happy, of course–he loved her–but he couldn’t help but question it sometimes. He had an unhealthy amount of knowledge about her personal demons which let him read her much easier than she could read him. It left him feeling like he was intruding on her privacy when he could practically read the thoughts in her mind just with a glance at her face and that bothered him but Zelena seemed to trust him with her vulnerability. And when she didn’t, she could quickly come up with a quip that would scare anyone else away but to him it was just a sign to leave her alone for the moment until she was ready to discuss the problem. And she usually came around soon which helped him do the same and put his doubts to rest. She’d trusted him as her therapist. And now she trusted him even more as her husband.

“Maybe,” Archie said as he caught her hand. “But I am saying this as someone who has witnessed the entire development of your relationship with Robin – you two have been through so much and to me it is obvious how much you love each other.” Zelena was ready to give up her heart for Robin, which wasn’t just a metaphor in Storybrooke, and Robin had offered to give up sweets forever if that would help heal her sick mom, which had been a big thing for a ten-year-old with a sweet tooth. “You’ve raised a great daughter and none of these quarrels will matter in the long run.”

Robin was going through a mean girl phase. But it was just that – a phase. Archie could see the kind young woman she was turning into under the mask of selfishness and superiority in the way she wouldn’t move as to not disturb Pongo when he’d fallen asleep with his head in her lap and the gentle smile on her face when the cactus Zelena had bought her blossomed in her room. She was going to be fine.

“Thank you,” Zelena squeezed his hand and gave him a smile. “But we raised her together. You’re her parent as well.”

The words made their way into Archie’s heart. He never would’ve given himself that title. He didn’t call himself Robin’s stepfather, afraid of infringing upon her perception of him. He was her mother’s husband and her friend and that worked well enough for him. Truth be told, he’d been rather scared of being even that, of being in Robin’s life at all. He himself had had a disastrous upbringing and while he may have found himself, raising a child was a big responsibility that he hadn’t been certain he could take on. He hadn’t wanted to leave Zelena alone with it, though, so he’d offered his assistance when she’d needed it. But Robin was her daughter and he wouldn’t have dared to make himself out to be her parent. Even if he felt her like a part of him.

“Need a light in there?” Zelena asked for she’d seen the shadows in his mind. She freed herself from his hold to grab a box of matches from the kitchen counter and held it out to him. She kept matches around the entire house in case she needed some fire. It was what she missed most from her magic. Though, Archie suspected she missed the warmth of security more than the burn of destruction it could offer her.

She felt helpless without her magic, even if she’d taken self-defense classes to be able to protect herself and Robin. And he was sure that it was mostly because of the problems that she wouldn’t have been able to solve even with her magic intact. The rocky relationship between her and Robin left her vulnerable and afraid. And a fire was good to keep you warm and light your way at the same time.

Archie caught her wrist and gently pulled her closer until she was almost pressed against him and he could feel her body heat. “There’s my light,” he said and touched his forehead to Zelena’s. He believed her words and that gave him the power to banish the doubts from his mind even if he’d never had magic in his life.

Zelena smiled and raised her free hand to stroke his cheek.

He wrapped the arm that wasn’t already holding her around her waist and held her close to his heart.

#once upon a time #ouat #wicked cricket #zelena mills #archie hopper #robin mills #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #operation end

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iamwhelmed · 5 years

Text

Homesick: Chapter 8

THE FINAL CHAPTER!!!! Aside from the epilogue anyway lol I haven’t decided if I’m gonna make a sequel yet. I might, considering Red X is kind of a loose end here, but hey! Let a girl know if you guys want more! Maybe I’ll throw in some more Batfam, and we’d def get to meet BBRae’s baby :D

Summary:

Read it on AO3

Read it on Fanfiction.net

The doors to the common room slid open, and the rest of the titans turned as Starfire and Terra entered with arms full of bags. Robin smiled, Cyborg waved (“Hey, welcome back!”), Batgirl turned her entire body toward them as she leaned over the back of the couch. Raven glanced over her shoulder, one hand placed tentatively at her stomach. Her eyes, deep and tired but relieved (and at long last, happy), met Starfire’s and twinkled. Starfire smiled back.

“DUUUUDDDEE!!!” Beast Boy, who’d had Raven close enough to be practically sitting in his lap, grinned from pointy ear to pointy ear and leaped over the back and ran at Starfire. She went to greet him, but found he was grabbing her wrist and tugging her toward the couch before she could utter so much as a syllable. Starfire yelped and dropped her things, so Terra laughed and let the bags in her hands plop to the floor equally unceremoniously. Unpacking could wait. “Were you really working as a waitress? And you were good?”

When they reached the front of the couch, Beast Boy took a running head start and leaped at the seat next to Raven, who glowered at him as he hit the cushions and bounced. He grinned at her, wrapping an arm over her shoulders, not sorry, not at all. Starfire remained standing as Terra hopped over the other side of the couch to plop into the seat next to Cyborg, who gave her a welcoming fist bump. “Yes, that is true! Raven and I both took up the employment to earn our stay at the motel!” Raven visibly twitched.

“Wait wait wait,” Robin raised an eyebrow and looked at Raven, who’s expression had only soured as Beast Boy’s face lit up with peerless glee. Robin’s lopsided smirk was just as taunting, filled with curiosity and dancing with amusement. “You got a job? Doing what?”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Bookstore clerk.” Batgirl snorted.

“I have a hard time seeing you in a nametag.”

“I didn’t wear one.”

Everyone started talking. Starfire had tried to follow along, but the words melded into new topics and switched as different voices piped up and interrupted and tore civility apart. In a few seconds it was difficult to pull one conversation from another. Raven was trying to calm Beast Boy down as he pointed an accusing finger at Cyborg for-- something, Starfire wasn’t quite sure. Terra was laughing so hard she was holding her sides, falling over the side of the couch as Cyborg backed into her, away from Beast Boy. His unapologetic grin was towering over his smaller frame despite the vexation radiating off Beast Boy. Raven sat between both parties, lips in a thin, exasperated line. She was huffing and mediating but her veins were popping all the same; Starfire thought, on a shallow level, she may have wished to instead be in their quiet motel room, away from the chaos they’d once been so accustomed to.

Robin joined in egging Beast Boy on, much to the amusement of Batgirl. He leaned back into her when Beast Boy whipped around on him, and she matched Robin’s chuckle with every chiming sound. She wrapped her arms around Robin’s shoulders and she leaned over him to get a word in at Beast Boy’s jest, chest brushing against Robin’s back (Robin leaned into the embrace, seemed positively content). Beast Boy turned round and wagged a very angry, easier to scrutinize than heed, finger at her and Robin. They both laughed.

Starfire did not.

Raven’s eyes met her own after a moment, and Starfire realized that she’d probably read her, because her face, so obviously miffed from conversation, melted with sympathy. Starfire smiled and shook her head. Do not worry, she tried to tell Raven. I am just in need of time. She cleared her throat. “Friends,” the incessant arguing stopped, momentarily. She gave them her best everything is okay smile, her most convincing I am happy to be home and nothing is wrong eyes. “I am afraid I must retire to my room, as I have quite a bit of unpacking to do and I require the shower after my fight with Red X.”

“Wait, you fought Red X?” Cyborg scratched his head, exchanging a look with Robin, who’d silently cocked an eyebrow. “I thought y’all said he helped you?”

“He did,” Raven’s voice was its usual monotone, and she could tell the boys were settled by its familiar drone. It’d been awhile since they’d heard it, awhile since she’d been there to offer her calmer two-cents. “But not before straddling Starfire to the moistest part of the dock.” She shrugged, like what she said hadn’t phased her, but the downturn of her lips and the twitch in her eye said she was still peeved about the night before. Was it because she hadn’t been able to help? Was it because Red X had gotten the drop on them at all? Starfire wasn’t sure, but she nervously waved Raven’s boiling mood off.

Robin, however, was a larger handful.

“He WHAT?” Batgirl had climbed off of Robin’s back and pressed herself to the couch, concerned that touching him would give her third degree burns. Steam was boiling from his ears as his skin flared red. He was grinding his teeth, fingers clenching and unclenching, itching to punch a bad-guy that wasn’t actually there. He seemed to compose himself for a moment, steam simmering to a light cloud, though his skin remained a furious shade. “When you say straddled, you mean--?”

Raven raised an eyebrow, some part of her, the part that’d bonded like a schoolgirl with Starfire in their three months away, rejoiced, amused at the reaction. For a guy who’d knocked boots with another woman, he was awfully put-off. May as well test those boiling waters. “I mean that by the time I came back, I couldn’t tell if he was trying to fight her or--”

“WHOA!” Beast Boy put his hands up in defense, chuckling despite the anxious white of his eyes and the stress of his smile. “Let’s keep this PG-13, don’t want another baby on our hands, do we?” He placed the hand, the one that wasn’t already around Raven’s shoulders, where their child was, looking almost reverently at the small bump hiding under her loose-fitting maternity shirt.

Raven snorted.

Starfire tried, she really did, to fight the heat that was rising from her stomach to her eyeballs, but her face felt hot enough to scorch the very sun her power came from. She covered it with both her hands. “I am sorry! I must be going immediately!” She zoomed out of the common room, flying so fast that they’d all hardly realized she’d left. Robin’s head whipped around, following her, any trace of the boiling rage that had begun to seethe, resting to a dull gas.

Raven frowned. She’d gotten ahead of herself, let the other factors of her situation (their situation) go unresolved. Her problems had been reconciled-- most of them, anyway, not including the gender, the name, the baby shower, and the funds to raise her baby-- but Starfire’s weren’t. She’d still been cheated on, which would have been heartbreaking enough in a normal relationship, but living in close quarters with him, having to follow his every command in the heat of battle… that was going to be tough.

"Do you think he did?"

"...I do not think so, and I am starting to fear that I am correct."

Even without her abilities as an empath, she could feel that absolute loss, the ripping of a soul in two, because somebody she’d trusted-- with her heart, with her time, with her affection-- he’d betrayed her. And she was going to come home because she had no other excuse to stay away, not without her, not without their symbiotic turmoil. She’d been so relieved, so unequivocally happy that Beast Boy had sworn himself to her, that he wanted to raise their child together, that he wanted to be her partner and a parent and remain her lover-- she’d simply forgotten why she’d had company in her state of pandemonium in the first place. What a bad companion she was. Raven sighed and pressed her small hand to Beast Boy’s, squeezing his fingers reassuringly before pulling it from her swelling stomach. He blinked, not rejecting the behavior, but confused by it. “Rae?”

“I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“No.”

Robin, who had already pulled himself over the back of the couch, who had already set a clear path to the common room door, waved one commanding hand in her direction. It was the sign he used on a mission, the sign that said stand down, that’s an order. It demanded compliance, which Robin rarely stooped to when they weren’t on a battlefield. Though, Raven mused, maybe he felt like he was. His gait was stiff, military, and that aura could tower over nearly any enemy, despite his physical height. Terra shifted uncomfortably at the change in demeanor, and Batgirl winced almost knowingly. Cyborg and Beast Boy were unperturbed, though curious, and exchanged glances the way silenced students traded notes.

Had she not been an empath, she might have been just as lost. But Raven could read him, and though he’d need efforts that would be nothing short of heroic, he was intending to see Starfire as her boyfriend, not her leader. He exited the room with a mumble under his breath. “She and I have a lot of talking to do…”

Starfire ran her hands through her hair, untangling it as she went through each tuft. She hadn’t done it in awhile, taken his fingers to it instead of a brush. It was calming, feeling each silky strand pass between the creases of her palm like feathers. She could close her eyes, focus on the small knots and tangles, feel the release of each one with just a little bit of force from her hand. People didn’t bend that way, she wished she could make herself bend that way. It would be easier to force her feelings aside, push them so deep down that the weight of everything else she buried it under would make it snap, make it go away. She wished the right decision was easier to make, but then there would be no point. She was a hero, and heros did the right thing. She vaguely remembered asking (“Must we always be heroes?”), and she saw now that he’d been right, that the right thing, the hero thing, was engraved in her, and she could never really part with it.

“So, are you ready to talk?”

She’d only somewhat registered the door to her bedroom sliding open, but the voice shook her from her stupor much quicker. She didn’t turn to him. Instead, she continued to watch the rising sun as it set on the early hours of Jump City. Her foggy mind told her she should go to sleep, that she usually rose with the sun, that she didn’t usually fall as it went up. The rest of her body, though, it was too wired, alive with emotion, some good and some less kind, to fall asleep. She breathed in, then she breathed out. “Robin…”

The door shut, but she had a feeling he hadn’t left. A few moments later, she heard his footsteps approaching, so she said something. “I apologise for leaving without saying anything.”

It worked. He paused. “You really had me worried.”

“The letter Raven left told you we would return, did it not?”

“That doesn’t stop me from worrying.” He took a few more steps forward, until he was standing at the other side of her bed. She closed her eyes, hoped she wouldn’t feel his weight shift beside her where she sat, because she could not take it, could not take seeing him. Not when this was happening, not when she was fighting herself.

“Robin, do you know why I left with Raven?”

He was quiet, he was contemplating. She usually loved to watch him process, watch the wheels turn as the best detective she’d ever known worked, but not today. Maybe not for a long time. “Not certain. I was hoping you could tell me, but I had a couple theories.”

“Which were?”

“You’re the only other girl on the team, and you guys are pretty close. Pregnancy is a scary thing to go alone.”

There was a silence, reflecting, warm “....Partly.”

Robin shrugged that off and continued. “There was a Tamaranian threat of some kind? Something only Raven could help you with?” She shook her head. Robin laughed, not confidently-- nervously. “Yeah, you’re right, that was a bad one. Um,” he was skimming passed his mind’s folder of theories, she could practically see the manila folder in his hands as he scanned her profile. “You’re… pregnant… too?”

Starfire sucked her teeth, but otherwise refused to dignify him with a response. They hadn’t even participated in such an act together, how would she have been with child? No, he clearly didn’t mean that. He was joking, trying to lighten the mood. Her nose scrunched, but she took another deep breath and released it. She wasn’t here to start a fight, she was here to do what was right for Robin, and for her.

“Starfire--?”

“I understand that you have a special relationship with Batgirl, do you not?”

He seemed to choke, but he answered. “Uh, y-yeah, she’s--uh, she’s family.”

“I was not aware that family on Earth slept with so little garments.”

There came a fracture to the air. She’d taken the first chunk of ice with a pick, and it could only collapse from here. She’d be better for it afterwards, they both would. Even if it felt like that pick was taking pieces of her heart with it. “Uh, Starfire?”

“I am not mad at you, Robin… not anymore.” She began to fiddle with her fingers, letting them twist, letting them grace each other. They were still bruised, still a little red, but she could feel them again. They’d heal. “I am sorry, I should have said this sooner, but I did not have the confidence before.” She could feel her voice getting stronger. Less girl, more Tamaranian Princess. She could hide behind that wall for now. It would crumble when the deed was done, and she could mourn her loss in silence, in her solitary room. She had to hold on until then, press on, push just a little further past it--

“Starfire?” He got closer to her, was coming around the end of the bed, she could hear him. He didn’t sound nervous, no, she’d heard Robin nervous when they’d crashed on that planet, heard him desperate when they’d fallen through together, but this was something different, and she could not place it.

“I love you,” she breathed it, let it break passed the doors and fall into the open, like a wave of fresh air filled her lungs, like a weight she’d had on her chest had been lifted. It was the first time she’d said that, that either of them had said it to each other. She’d thought the implication had been enough, but it had not been, and now Robin stood frozen at her side. She kept her eyes on the sunrise, kept her fingers intermingling because if she stopped moving all at once she was sure she would die. She loved him. She loved him loved him loved him truly. And that would have to be enough. “And Robin, that is why I am letting you go.”

That seemed to thaw him, though his feet remained firmly where they were, no closer, no farther. “W-what? Starfire, what are you talking about? I don’t want you to let me go.” He reached a hand for her, but she turned away, so he retracted it. That tone was back, the tone from before, but it was far more present, persistent. It broke her heart to hear, and she couldn’t place why. “Starfire, please, tell me what’s going on. What is all of this about?”

“It is about what is right, Robin. You once told me that marrying my betrothed was not right for me. And Robin? I fear I am not right for you…”

“What? Where is this coming from? Why are you acting like you’re--youre--?”

“Doing the breaking up with you?” She looked at him then, met his eyes for the first time. He flinched. His eyes widened behind his mask, his fingers twitched uselessly at his sides, and he stuttered.

“Are you?”

She looked at her lap again. “Truthfully, I felt betrayed to find another woman in your bed, before you and I could even culminate the benefits of a romantic relationship. But she is not the evil witch of the wickedness that I thought she was. Batgirl is kind and beautiful and you are so comfortable around her and--!” She stopped herself. She could hear Raven’s voice in the back of her mind. You’re ranting. She breathed in, and breathed out. “I see the way you look at her. It is the way those who have mated look at each other on my home planet. It communicates a lifetime of perseverance and of companionship, but most of all, it communicates inimitable affection.” She shook her head, shut her eyes, tried to keep the stinging sensation at bay. Just a few moments longer. Her hands clenched painfully together in her lap. “Robin, I will not stand in your way if she is the one you truly desire.”

The bed bounced, and she could tell he’d taken a seat beside her. “Who I desire, huh?” She closed her eyes, imagining the pressure of his lips on hers, remembering the way he’d smiled at her and offered her a hand to dance at Kitten’s prom, remembering his arms around her as they braced for Raven’s destiny to swallow her whole, remembering seeing him alive and well and standing atop that hill with that grin she held so dear to her heart. She remembered all of it, let the good memories wash over her one last time before they became bittersweet to look upon. But it was okay, he would be happier after this. No more training sessions that turn into playful kisses on the workout mat. No more glances at each other that the others missed. No more fingers intertwining, no more of his gentle caresses and his adorably awkward date proposals or even his more confident, friendlier offers to grab some pizza and see a movie. She wouldn’t get to lace herself to his arm and hold him close anymore, and he wouldn’t smile knowingly at her when she squeezed. Her fingers knotted uncomfortably in her jeans, pinching her skin beneath. This was for the best, this was for Robin. She nearly missed what he said when he finally spoke.

“She was hurt.” His voice was neutral, betrayed nothing about what he was feeling, though she had many guesses, only a few of which she hoped for. The rest were closer to reality (relief, guilt, happiness), so she buried that hope under caution. Starfire nodded for him to go on. “She’d gotten into some trouble. Knew I was in town. Came to me for help in the dead of night. It’s how my family operates.” She chanced a glance at him, but his eyes were on the sunrise, hands splayed behind him as he shifted to sit at a slant, looking more relaxed than she’d seen him since Slade was defeated (for good). His face betrayed no emotion, and she cursed that mask, not for the first time. “I told her to let me grab Cyborg, but she didn’t wanna wake him. Told me I was more than capable of patching her up, and she was right. I don’t think she intended to stick around for as long as she did.” He paused, then raised an eyebrow at her, tilting his head just enough for her to see his incredulous face. She frowned. “I think she’s stayed here to keep an eye on me, since you went missing and all.”

“Robin--”

His eyes met hers, set, serious, the way he was as a leader, but there was affection there, the kind she remembered seeing so many different times (when they were stranded, Tokyo, when he’d propped open her chrysalis). “I’m not gonna lie to you, Batgirl--” He stopped, seemingly contemplating what he would say next before deciding the risk was worth it. “Barbara and I, we had something in the past, but that’s all it is. The past.” He moved closer, eyes narrowing, one hand gripping her forearm, gently, where it sat between them. She wanted to gasp, but no sound came out when their eyes met again. That was not Leader Robin, that was Boyfriend Robin, Love of her Life Robin, and he had set that steely determination, that unwavering tenacity on her, on getting what he was saying through to her.

Her heart flipped in her chest, unwarranted. Without her permission. He only grew closer. “Nothing happened between her and I. I patched her up and gave her a shirt to sleep in. We’re family, I didn’t think anything of it.” He sighed and shook his head. “Had I known you would, though… Starfire,” he brought one hand up to her cheek, caressed it in his hand. She leaned into it, hoped its comfort would alleviate the tears she could feel starting at the corners of her eyes. Robin exhaled, and she could hear fear, fear she now suspected was of losing her. “I’m so sorry. I never would have let you leave if I’d known this was why.” She smiled at him, and he brushed his thumb against the corner of her eye where a single tear had begun collecting. He smiled back, and she wondered how, in the half a sun’s rotation she’d been back with him, she hadn’t noticed the fondness and worship with which he looked at her. She almost felt like a fool. Three months of wasted time, feeling torn apart by an affair that had never transpired. She leaned even further into his touch, and she heard him stifle a laugh.

“So, you did not have the intercourse with Batgirl?”

“What?”

The warm hand was gone, and she blinked as Robin threw himself against the foot of her bed, eyes wide, face quickly gaining the same complexion as the red of his suit. His hands moved wildly, unsure what to do or what gestures to make. “That’s what you--? Starfire! You really thought I--? That she and I--?” Starfire pouted, and steam blew from his ears for a very different reason this time. He ran a hand over his face. “God, no Star, nothing like that happened.”

“You did not kiss her?”

“No.”

“And you did not partake in the romantic form of bodily contact that is cuddling?”

“Okay, that I can’t say didn’t happen, but it wasn’t romantic--!”

“And you do not wish to leave me for Batgirl or Barbara, whatever her name may be?”

Robin clasped both her hands between his, dopey smile inching across his face. “Not on your life, Starfire.” That did it. The tears started falling, and Starfire reached her hands up to wipe them away, but Robin got to them faster, pressing his thumbs and palms to each drop before it had the chance to fall. She sobbed, and he brought her head into his chest, running a hand through her hair.

“I tried to do the right thing!”

“I know…”

“I tried to let you go, but I cannot!”

“Starfire, you’ll never have to…” He cupped her jaw in his hand and tugged, lightly, enough to draw her teary eyes from his shoulder so she could see him, see his face. His brows furrowed above his heavy-lidded stare, she could see in the narrow of his mask. Her eyes mirrored his despite the puffiness and the streaks coloring her skin, already aflame. He drew her closer, still. “Nobody is going to take me away from you, history or no.”

“Do you promise?”

His voice lowered the way that sent tingles running down her spine and lit her stomach on fire, the way she’d felt many times when he’d kiss the skin before her ear, when his hands would trail somewhere new. That baritone he so rarely used set her nerves fraying without so much as a touch, and he was using it to say: “I swear to you.” He kissed her, in a way so different from how he usually would. The sweet nervous nature he’d usually graze her lips with was gone in favor of something he hadn’t turned loose on her before now-- passion. Desperation. Adoration. She pressed back cautiously at first before he leaned forward. She obliged.

When they came away for a moment, they came right back together again, hotter than before, needing. His hand, she didn’t even know when he’d set it there, it squeezed at her hip and tugged her thighs closer to his, and she wrapped her arms round his neck, parting her lips to grant him entry, and he took it with the thirst of a parched man. His lips melded slowly with hers, but hard. He bit her lip, and she gasped. Robin’s other hand fell from her jaw to run up and down her side, nimble fingers exploring the curve of her waist before he slipped them under her shirt. He only touched the skin that would have been exposed had she been in her uniform, but it was enough to make her shiver. He leaned forward, and she followed until her back was pressed against the mattress and he was bent over her with one hand in her hair. Three months, three months she had been away, and as he grabbed one of her legs and tucked it behind his hip, brushing against her so deliberately that it made her gasp and toss her head back, she knew Robin intended to show her just how much he’d missed her and that lost time. “Besides…” She batted her eyelashes at him, and he gave her that boyish, cocky grin that only he had, that only he could give. There was something dangerous there, behind his mask, a fire she’d never seen before, and it burned the churning wheel in her stomach like little else. “If I’d been with anybody, you woulda heard her…” Her face turned several shades of red.

#Teen Titans #BBRae #RobStar #Robin #Starfire #Beast Boy #Raven #Cyborg #Terra #barbara gordon

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lizacstuff · 5 years

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FanFic: The Mysterious Case of the Missing Pirate - Chapter 8/9

Summary: On the day after Killian and Emma return from their journey to the past, he seemingly vanishes without a trace. Can Emma find him before it’s too late? A Captain Swan canon divergence. Key words: stranded, blizzard, snowed in, cabin in the woods, mild smut (you get the drift)

READ FROM THE BEGINNING on AO3 or FF.Net

Rating: M

Note: It has taken several years, but here is the penultimate chapter to this story. HUGE thanks to @csmarchmadness for running such a great event and giving me a great excuse to finish this! The final chapter will be up this month.

This chapter on AO3 or FF.Net

Chapter 8

David glanced towards Granny’s trying to see what might be keeping Robin and Regina, but between the dark of night and the falling snow, which was no longer Regina’s signature purple and was once again a more natural pristine white, he couldn’t see a thing. He considered walking over himself, but the tension had been understandably thick between those two all day and he knew they probably had a lot to talk about; it was not a conversation he was eager to interrupt.

David turned back to Belle and Gold, about to comment on the length of time the other two had been gone, only to witness Gold ushering his wife quickly down the street. They were almost at the edge of the snow-less bubble Regina had created when David’s voice boomed behind them. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Gold stopped and turned with an obsequious smile. “My wife is cold; I’m taking her back in the shop.”

“That’s fine. Belle can leave if she likes.” David’s voice was every bit that of the authoritative royal. “But you’re staying here.”

“I’m afraid I can’t oblige you. With a crazed person on the loose, I must stay with her.”

“No,” David replied flatly and then he looked at Belle who appeared taken aback by his firm refusal. David relented and adopted a more moderate tone. “We think the person creating this storm is a young woman who was trapped in your husband’s vault. Surely you must see how valuable his assistance is?”

Belle, who was gripping her husband’s arm, turned to David and asked in innocent tones, “If Rumple says he doesn’t know, then what more do you want from us?”

David eyed her shrewdly, could any person really be in this much denial about the person she married? However, when he spoke, it was with gentle understanding. “Belle, don’t you see what’s going on here? We think that a magical urn came back through the portal with Hook and Emma last night, from your husband’s vault. We think a young woman was in that urn. A woman who is angry enough that she’s creating this storm and knocked out Hook because she thought he was the one who put her there. There’s already well over a foot of snow on the ground. If we don’t find her, and this storm keeps going, I don’t know what’ll happen; my guess is we’ll all be buried alive. We have to find a way to stop it before that happens. Your husband was missing all day, he clearly knows more than he’s saying. Are you okay risking the life of every soul in Storybrooke because you’re cold? If you need to warm up, I suggest you join Robin and Regina at Granny’s for a coffee while your husband stays out here with me.”

Belle’s eyes were saucer-like by the time David finished speaking, she turned to Rumple, trembling either from the cold or from David’s words. “I’m fine, I can stay. If you can help...” she let her voice trail off in an unasked question.

The man sighed and turned to David. “Have you considered that perhaps my presence will be more of a hindrance, than a help?”

David narrowed his eyes at him. “Many times, but why don’t you explain yourself.”

xXx

“Wait, Regina!” Robin yelled as he stepped out from behind Regina.

“What?” Regina looked back to Robin, a fireball perched on her hand at the ready. “She just froze Granny’s! I might not love her lasagna, but it’s an institution in Storybrooke.”

“I know, but look at her. She’s scared.” Robin stepped forward and held his hands up as a sign of peace. “Hi, my name is Robin; this is Regina, what’s your name?”

“Don’t come any closer!” The woman barked. As per Hook’s description, she was a young, very beautiful, and very angry looking blonde woman.

“Okay, no problem,” Robin complied and stepped back, however he didn’t lose eye contact with her. “Listen, if you promise not to freeze anything else, my friend, Regina here, will put away her fireball and we can have a conversation.” He looked back and gave Regina a pleading look. Regina didn’t seem pleased about it, but she did lower her hand, though the fire still burned in her palm.

Robin looked back to the woman. “There, see, no one has to get hurt. Now, why don’t we calmly discuss whatever it is that has you afraid?”

“Why do you think I’m afraid?” snapped the woman with bravado. However, Robin hadn’t made a great leap. There was a tremor to her voice and the look in her eyes radiated fear. If he hadn’t seen her turn Granny’s to ice, he would have had a hard time believing she was responsible for creating the storm or hurting Hook.

“Because you don’t seem like someone who would purposely hurt innocent people.”

“Maybe I am!” she said defensively, but she looked unsettled by what he’d said.

“If so you’re doing a good job. You’ve brought the town to a standstill and I hear you knocked out and almost froze the savior’s boyfriend.” Regina spoke matter-of-factly, but allowed the fireball in her palm to extinguish. “The savior is not someone you want to make an enemy of…”

“Did I hurt him?” The woman swallowed roughly.

“Yes,” Robin replied truthfully. “He was unconscious and almost died from being out in the cold, but we think he’s going to recover.”

“I thought he was the one who trapped me, but...”

“You now realize that’s not true,” Robin finished for her, the pieces starting to come together, albeit slowly. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. Do you have any idea where you are or how you got here?”

The woman immediately looked defensive again and her posture stiffened. It was clear she didn’t have an answer to the questions. Sensing her unease, Regina’s hand once again filled with fire and she adopted a fighting stance.

“Please! Both of you!” Robin Hood put his hands up once again in an effort to defuse the rising tension. He gave Regina a pointed look before turning to the woman and trying to appear as kind and nonthreatening as he could. “Worry not; we think we know how you got here. We recently had...” his eyes slid to Regina once again before he referenced the unpleasantness with her sister, “an incident with a wicked witch and she opened a portal to the past of another realm. We think you must have come through the portal while it was open. We mean you no harm, but you have to stop freezing things if you want us to help you.”

“I... I don’t know if I can!” The woman’s voice was rough, and it was apparent she was having just as bad of a day as the rest of them.

“Well, now we’re getting somewhere. Why don’t we talk?” Robin smiled at her. “Would you like something to eat or drink? Perhaps some tea or coffee?”

The fire died out in Regina’s hand and she rubbed her palm against her coat. One might assume that her eyes would be glued to the interloper in blue, but they weren’t. She was watching Robin, feeling in awe of how he was handling the situation. He was so calm and so kind. It wasn’t necessarily surprising, it was after all how he’d treated her when they first met and that thought pulled at her heart. He was such a good man. She’d finally found a good man to love and it had all been ripped away. She felt the anger build once again and threaten to boil over. Instead of letting that happen, she took several deep breaths and calmed herself. Nothing was helped by dwelling on her personal situation, particularly not the current crisis, so she forced herself to turn her attention back to the woman in blue.

Robin had ducked behind Granny’s counter to pour a cup of coffee for the woman. When he handed it to her, he asked, “Now why don’t we start by you telling us your name?”

The woman took a sip of the hot liquid and then with wide eyes she looked at Robin. “I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle.”

xXx

“What?” Emma felt her heart-rate increase at both his question and the way his gaze was drilling through her.

“Would you like me to repeat the question?” Killian asked when she didn’t elaborate. He studied her intently in the firelight, his head canted to one side quizzically. When she still didn’t speak, he repeated, “In the Enchanted Forest if I hadn’t already been in the Captain’s Quarters, what would have happened between you and him?”

“Me and who?” Emma asked obtusely.

“Him.” Killian tried to sound neutral; however, the word came out with a slightly injured sounding huff.

“You mean you?”

“I mean him.”

“You do know that was you?” Emma narrowed her eyes as she watched him and tried not to feel amused at the expression on his face. It was clear that he was serious about this, but there was a surreal aspect to the conversation for her that she couldn’t help but find funny.

“It was not me,” Killian replied slowly, “the sentient being sitting across from you right now. I was the person already there, when you brought him home.”

“He brought me home,” she clarified.

“A-ha!” Killian said as if he’d scored a point in a game he didn’t want to win.

“He, who also happens to be you, brought me home,” Emma repeated and then bit her lip to keep from smiling. She was only moderately successful. Truth was she was finding this side to him to be very cute, not that she’d admit it to him necessarily. She hadn’t often been the object of jealousy, and while as a modern woman she didn’t find it a romantic notion necessarily, it was heartening that he cared enough to let it bother him. Besides, the situation was so crazy that laughter really was the best way to cope.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded and crossed his arms protectively in front of him.

“You. You’re jealous of yourself!” she replied pointedly.

He shrugged and looked slightly peeved. “I don’t get jealous.”

“All evidence to the contrary.” She nudged his thigh with her foot in a playful manner. When he looked back to her through the dim light, she smirked teasingly at him. “First off, can we agree that even though he wasn’t you,” she pointed at him, “he was absolutely you?”

“That,” he shook his head, but finally allowed a small smile, “is nonsensical, besides, he... I... was a different person then. I’m not him anymore. You didn’t even know him.”

“Maybe,” Emma replied with a smile, not allowing the circular nature of the conversation to daunt her. “But I liked him.”

“Yes, that was apparent.” Killian replied with a grimace.

“You’re missing the point. I liked him. I liked you, that part of you.”

“Yes, it was obvious.”

Her sigh held both amusement and frustration, however when she spoke it was with care. “Is this because I kissed him? You know that was to distract him so he didn’t see you.”

“A distraction you were enjoying quite a bit.”

At that rejoinder, Emma made a decision. She tossed back the comforter and then crawled from her end of the couch to his. His eyes went wide, and his heart rate increased at her unexpected approach. Straddling his body, she planted a bare knee on either side of his flannel-clad thighs. Her own too-large flannel pajama tops were hanging haphazardly off to the side, exposing a tempting view of her bare shoulder as she rested her hands on the blanket that still covered his shoulders. Her hair framed her face in a messy tangle making her appear untamed and, definitely, tantalizing.

He felt his groin tighten involuntarily. He was supposed to be getting answers, not getting aroused. He hugged his arms even tighter across his chest and let his gaze fall to the side and whispered, “What are you doing?”

“I never thought I’d see the day when you were insecure.” Emma studied him quizzically, wishing he would make eye contact.

He shrugged noncommittally, so she continued. “You know it’s not like we were together when any of this happened...” Her voice was gentle, but her meaning was clear, it wasn’t necessarily any of his business who she went home with. However, she squeezed his shoulders to lessen the sting of her words. To be fair this was a rather convoluted situation, what with him being both parties of a potential time-travelling love triangle.

“I know… that’s not what... I mean... no, I know we weren’t together.” Killian finally uncrossed his arms and gestured with his hook. Emma felt a shiver zip along her skin where the cold metal brushed inadvertently against her bare thigh. “It’s just... I’ve been interested in pursuing you since we met.” He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “And while you’ve clearly been charmed by me…” Even though he still wasn’t looking at her, Emma rolled her eyes at that with almost theatrical flair. “You’ve resisted my allure. With him, you willingly went back to his cabin on the first night you met him. The first night. That’s why I’m inquisitive about what you were planning to do if I hadn’t been present.”

Emma brought her hands to his cheeks, idly stroking his scruff with her thumbs before tilting his head so he had to look at her. “Okay. First, we were on a mission, you and me.” She let her left hand fall from his cheek so she could gesture between the two of them for emphasis. “I did what I had to do for us, again, that’s you and me, and our mission to succeed.”

Her left hand moved back up to his shoulder, but this time she slipped it underneath the blanket. With a soft touch, she caressed over the smooth skin of his shoulder and then pressed tenderly down his arm over his bicep and along his forearm. She felt his muscles grow taut under her touch and it seemed as if his breathing had become slightly more erratic. When she reached his hand, she ran her palm over the rough skin of his knuckles and then laced her fingers with his. The tingles she felt from the contact with his bare skin and just his nearness were consuming. Mesmerized, she stared at the sight of their fingers twined together.

He squeezed her hand tenderly and then, his voice hoarse, asked, “Was there a second thing?”

What was she doing again? This proximity to him was making her lose her train of thought. Maybe she should go back to the other end of the couch. However, when she looked back to his eyes, his pupils blown wide in the firelight, she found he was watching her with an intent, but nervous expression, so she took a deep breath and then shook her head to clear it. After everything he’d done for her, namely jumping down the portal after her, she owed him an answer.

“Right…” she cleared her throat and resolved to not get distracted by him until she had said her piece. “Yes, there was.” This time she squeezed his hand before she continued. “Second… it was not the first night I met him.” He was about to protest but Emma moved her right hand to his lips to silence him gently with her index finger. She felt something deep in her chest well up, almost making it hard to breathe. How had she pretended for so long that she didn’t have feelings for this man? Looking back over their time spent together, suddenly everything became crystal clear.

“It wasn’t the first time I met him… because I met him in the Enchanted Forest right before we climbed a beanstalk together. I was attracted to him immediately, but he was a fairy tale pirate, working for the other side, hell-bent on revenge and he could see right through me, which scared the hell out of me. And then when things began to change, when we, he and I, were on the same side, when he became a friend... a very good friend... and a trusted ally, things got complicated. The attraction was always there, but I had issues, I still have issues, and there were curses and danger… “

Emma stopped abruptly and swallowed hard over the lump that had begun to form in her throat. She also took the opportunity to take a deep breath, Killian’s hook had found its way to her waist, holding her steady, and his eyes hadn’t left hers, but some of the uncertainty in them had waned. She squeezed his hand one more time, before she continued, “And then you did begin to pursue me and you made it clear you had feelings for me. So there was no way to act on that attraction, that chemistry, that pull without it having deep and lasting emotional ramifications for both of us, and that... was terrifying and complicated and something I absolutely wasn’t ready for. But in the Enchanted Forest, there you were, still you in so many ways, but you without all of our baggage. It was you with no repercussions. You didn’t know me; you didn’t have feelings for me. So, yes, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed him. Because he was you. I got to flirt with you, without it hurting you. And nothing would have happened, he was minutes away from passing out. I would have kept him occupied until he was out cold and then met back up with you. And no, I didn’t want to sleep with him, it didn’t cross my mind, because the first time I’m with you, I want it to be you.”

Killian looked absolutely gobsmacked. All slack jaw and slightly parted lips. He tried to swallow, but he found his mouth was dry and his heart was pounding in his chest. He had never heard Emma string so many sentences together at once; she was usually a woman of few words. The room was silent except for the wind howling outside and the fire crackling beside them. However, the way his blood was thrumming through his veins, it occurred to him that she could probably hear it from her position perched over his lap. He should say something, but when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out. A man, who had survived and thrived on always having something to say, had finally been rendered speechless.

Sensing that she might have overpowered him with her unplanned and unrehearsed recital but feeling empowered after finally admitting how far back her feelings for him stretched, Emma let go of his hand and snaked her right arm around his neck. At the same time, she let her left hand slide from his cheek to his neck and then gave into temptation and traced an enticing path down and over his chest. Her nails lightly scraped across the furled hair until they hit metal. A smile curled her lips as she lightly fingered the charms that hung from his necklace and then gave them a gentle tug towards her. With only inches separating them, the new proximity only heightened the frisson of sexual energy that snapped between them.

Her eyes flicked down and she watched his tongue dart out and wet his lips. She felt the desire, the unmistakable naked desire, which she’d been trying to ignore, tamp down or banish since the day she met him, roar back to life. With a lick of her own lips, she whispered, “Does that answer your question?” before her lips crashed into his.

The instant the kiss connected them; Killian came alive. While he’d spent the last few minutes in stunned silence, listening, watching her and trying to process everything she’d said, now his body responded instinctually. His hand hit the couch behind them; reflexively trying to keep their balance, even as his hook arm pulled her tighter to him. The second Emma felt him respond, she used her position above him to change the angle and deepen the kiss.

Heat. The entire day had been about the cold, but now all she felt was heat. Delicious heat. The kind that raced like lava through her veins and ignited something primal in her soul. It was as if they were melting together, combining as one. She wanted to be closer to him, craved it. Craved him. Keeping a tight hold on his necklace with one hand, the fingers of the other slid through his hair, avoiding his earlier injury, until she gently gripped a handful of silky black strands, anchoring him to her. Their lips continued to work deliciously against one another in soft, but hungry, open-mouthed kisses, and the first time their tongues met in a warm tangle, her moan broke the silence.

The second he heard it, the pirate in him took control. With a movement only someone with great strength and dexterity could accomplish, he tightened his hook arm around her and then both scooted them down and flipped them so that a moment later Emma found herself flat on her back on the sofa, an amorous Killian on top of her.

He had broken the kiss to switch their position, but now his lips once again found hers. His tongue pillaged her mouth, fervently kissing and licking and sucking as he tried to elicit another moan from her. The lustful sound on Emma’s lips only served to fuel his passion. He wanted to make her feel, to give her pleasure, he wanted for her to desire him as much as he desired her. And to him, that moan was a sign he was succeeding.

As she settled beneath him, his solid mass delightfully weighed her down. The wool blanket that had covered his shoulders slipped unceremoniously to the floor, and her arms wrapped around his bare back. She felt giddy. This was it. This was happening. They were happening. Her hands traveled over the surprisingly smooth skin of his back and she was enthralled by the way his muscles tensed and released under her touch.

Without warning, his lips left hers and instead trailed soft kisses across her cheek until he was sucking on her earlobe. And that did it. Louder than before, Emma moaned, but this time it came out in tandem with his name. His mouth instantly curved into a self-satisfied grin and he pulled back to look at her. He paused only long enough to wag his eyebrows at her suggestively, before he dove back in, his mouth finding her neck.

However, something she’d seen in the split second he’d hovered above her gave her pause. In the firelight, the flush of his cheeks had glowed brightly, maybe too bright, and there had been a light sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

“Wait,” Emma gasped as Killian nipped and licked his way down her neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake that made her moan again. Somehow, most likely by a simple flick of his deft fingers, the top button of her oversized flannel pajama tops had come undone and he was pulling the collar open, pressing warm, wet kisses all along the gentle ridge of her collar bone. When a second button came loose from its hole, and Killian’s mouth started trailing lower, she once again spoke her entreaty, “Wait.”

This time he obeyed, and looked up at her, a question in his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asked breathlessly.

“Up?” As he said the word, his eyes lit up with an oddly appealing combination of amusement and desire. Once again, he wagged his eyebrows, but he also shifted his hips over hers and with deliberation pressed his arousal against her soft center.

She audibly gasped.

“Does that answer your question?” he asked in a low rumble, mimicking the last words she’d said before kissing him.

Emma fought the desire that coursed through her. Even though he’d immediately shifted his hips away from her as soon as his point was made, that brief contact had been like an electric shock that had started at her center and reverberated through every nerve ending in her body. She knew she wanted him. She knew he wanted her. And after that display of his she knew they were both aroused to the breaking point. However, she also knew it had been a very physically traumatic day for him.

Emma shifted to the outside of the cushion, making room so that he could release his weight onto the sofa instead of hovering over her.

With an expression that bordered perilously close to full on pout, he settled next to her, letting his head fall to the pillow. “What’s wrong, love? Is this not what you want?”

Immediately, her hand found his cheek and she caressed it with a wide circle of her thumb. “Of course I want it, but I’m worried about you. You almost died today and just now you looked a little…”

“What? How do I appear to you?”

“You looked a little flushed and,” her hand soothed across his brow, “you have a bit of perspiration on your forehead. How do you feel?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, she interrupted. He was clearly about to issue reassurances by rote and that’s not what she wanted to hear. “Honestly, Killian. Tell me how you really feel.”

“I’m fine. Your magic pain pills erased my headache, the medicinal soup gave me back my vigor and you in my arms healed my soul.”

She smirked at him in order to hide the fact that his words made her heart pitter patter in her chest. “Good, I’m glad to hear it, but maybe we should hold off until later, another time when you’re stronger, when-“

“When we’re being attacked by whatever is creating this bloody storm? Or perhaps we should wait until we get sucked into another time portal, or until Regina decides to make good on whatever threat upset you last night.”

“Killian…”

“No, Emma, if you’re not ready then end of story, we arrest our current development, but if your solitary concern is my health then,” instead of finishing his thought he looked suggestively at her.

The way he was looking at her caused a melting sensation that started in her chest, and then ran like molten liquid to her toes. She didn’t answer him verbally; however, she did feel herself drifting even closer to him, her torso leaning into his as if pulled by a magnet, her bare leg shifting in between his flannel-clad ones, making it clear it was not her desire to stop. It reminded her of how they’d fit together so flawlessly earlier that afternoon, and that reminded her of why they had needed to fit together, for the body-to-body warming, and ultimately why she was concerned. Her desire was not the important thing. The important thing was that he almost just DIED. She could still see him lying cold and lifeless on the floor of the barn and the thought sent a cold stab of pain right through her. “But... are you sure... you look-”

“Love, if I look peaked, no illness is the cause. It’s because of you.”

“Me?” Concerned, Emma shifted back from him slightly, though there was really no place to go and stay on the couch. She propped herself on her elbow as if she might be planning to get up.

“Yes,” he affirmed, however he didn’t let her move away; instead he anchored his leg around her hip, just as he’d done when he woke to find her naked against him that afternoon. He snaked his hook arm around her, the metal pressing firmly, but not uncomfortably, into the excess fabric of her pajama tops gathered at her lower back. “Regardless of whatever injuries I might have sustained earlier, having the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, on top of me, kissing me senseless, is going to cause a physical reaction.”

“Is that right?” she asked in a faux serious tone and then shifted back and away from him on the narrow couch.

As he felt her slip away from him, he sagged against the back of the couch and reluctantly released her from his grip. He pressed his eyes closed, and then felt her weight shift next to him and he knew she was rising from the couch. It appeared he’d failed to convince her of his robust health. After a deep breath, and unable to keep a dejected note out of his voice, he said, “it’s okay, love.”

“Oh, it‘s going to be much better than okay, love,” she mimicked cheerfully.

At her tone, he slowly opened one eye. What he saw made his other eye pop open and she immediately had his full and undivided attention. She was leaning on one elbow, smiling cheekily down at him, the black scrap of fabric that comprised her bikini underwear hanging from her index finger.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Apparently, she had not been getting up when he’d felt her shift next to him. She had something else in mind.

“Cat got your tongue, Captain?” This time it was her turn to wag her eyebrows at him. With a flick of her wrist she flung her underwear over the couch and then she reached for his hook.

“Whaddaya doing?” he asked almost incoherently. Still not entirely believing what was happening.

“The hook has to go,” she replied frankly as she began unscrewing it and then set about loosening the brace, so she could remove it as well. Second time today, she was becoming an expert. “You wearing it while we… you know… is definitely advanced difficulty. Not a good idea for our first time.”

His jaw dropped as he watched her work. Once she’d removed the hook and brace, she turned away from him and carefully sat them on the raised hearth of the fireplace. When she twisted back around, she found that he was no longer looking quite so stunned. In fact, he appeared fully recovered as evidenced by the fact that the deft fingers of his right hand were swiftly flicking open the rest of the buttons on her pajama tops. As he finished, he looked up at her, his eyes dark, his expression held both hunger and a shy question, as if he was silently asking if what he’d done was okay. She now knew it was possible to look like both an eager puppy and a seductive pirate at the exact same time.

“So helpful, Killian,” she murmured flirtatiously and shrugged out of the garment before flinging the yellow and blue fabric over the couch. Now wearing only her tank top, she leaned over and kissed him. A firm, wet kiss that was a promise and an answer to the question she’d seen in his eyes.

As soon as their lips met, he tugged her to him, a feeling of joy bubbling from within. She was kissing him. Emma Swan was in his arms, disrobing and kissing him. He pulled his lips from hers for a split second to change the angle and was about to go in for more, when she pulled back once again and broke the kiss.

“But two can play that game,” she whispered with an almost predatory smile as she surreptitiously slipped her hand under the comforter and surprised him by tugging on the waistband of his matching crown pajama bottoms.

Killian eyes went wide and he let out a startled grunt at her bold maneuver. However, he instantly cooperated by lifted his hips so she could work on removing the offending garment. He sucked in air and closed his eyes briefly as her hand brushed his erection. However, she didn’t linger; she was on a mission. Next, her fingers ignited a trail of fire down his bare legs as she pushed the fabric down his hips, past his thighs until finally she was able to pull them off completely. Almost triumphantly, she pulled the pajamas out from under the comforter and held them up a moment, pausing to wink at Killian before she flung them over the couch to join the rest of their discarded clothes. Wanting to be helpful, he reached down and peeled off the white-athletic socks he’d borrowed from David’s bag and handed them to her, looking pleased with himself. She reached down and peeled off her own socks, before launching all of them in the air.

Once socks were discarded, she leaned into kiss him again. Their open mouths moved against one another with heated intensity, tongues sliding and sparring erotically, the passion that was always just under the surface when they were together igniting into a blaze in an instant. As they molded together, he fiddled with the hem of her tank top. Hands roamed everywhere. Hers sliding down his chest, around his back, over his shoulders, she wanted to touch him everywhere, to learn how he felt and where he liked to be touched. His hand found its way around her waist and under her tank top, his palm flat against the silky smooth skin of her back. He slid it between them and up under her tank top until he was cupping her breast. When he brushed over her nipple, she whimpered and he smiled against her mouth.

Without warning, she pushed back from him. For a second he blinked, feeling bereft from the loss of contact and worried he had done something wrong, until he realized she was only making space in order to rip her tank top over her head and launch it over the couch in one movement. As soon as she’d done it he grinned wickedly at her, it had been the last barrier between them. They paused a moment, both panting, eyes roaming over the other, taking their fill in a way neither had dared that afternoon.

Her gaze drifted back to his face only to find him transfixed by her breasts for the second time that day. She chuckled and reached for his chin to tilt it back upwards. “I knew when I took off my shirt; you were going to forget about me.”

He met her eye and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Never,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire, need coursing through him. “You are so beautiful, Emma.”

Emma blushed prettily, but then in a soft almost shy voice answered, “So are you.”

“I know,” he replied in his usual manner of cocky assurance, but a moment later his eyes drifted to his left arm and he murmured a little less confidently, “Most of me, anyway.”

Emma knit her brows in confusion until she followed his gaze to where his left hand should have been. She immediately shook her head defiantly, “All of you.” To punctuate her statement she reached for his left arm and brought the scarred skin of his severed forearm to her lips.

He watched her in mesmerized silence. Once again wondering if this was really happening. They were together and naked, she was pressing a kiss to his damaged skin; he knew it was her way of letting him know that she accepted all of him. If he was honest, what she thought of him and what she would think of his disfigurement once he was stripped bare of braces and hooks and fake hands and leather armor was something that had followed him, a very real fear of rejection niggling at the back of his brain periodically over the course of their relationship.

In awe, he almost didn’t notice that her mouth had left the site of his injury and she was now trailing kisses up his bicep. Almost. Because of course he noticed, there was no realistic way he would ever not notice the warm, wet trail her lips were leaving against his skin. His pulsed raced and a thrill shot through him; he shivered involuntarily at the sensation.

Immediately, Emma pulled back so she could meet his gaze, concern furrowing the brow over her lust-filled eyes. Clearly, she had felt the shiver. “The cold or me?”

“All you, love.” Giving her no time to respond he hooked his left arm around her torso, lifting her body weight in one fluid motion, and sweeping her under him, so she was once again lying flat on her back. Killian now hovered over her, his left elbow braced against the outer edge of the couch. She let out a sound between a shriek and a giggle at his unexpected movement and the noise inspired him to run his fingers lightly along her side, trying to get her to make the sound again. It had been so playful and carefree; he’d never heard anything quite like it from her before and he was pretty sure he would be quite content to spend the rest of his life trying to find ways to get her to make that noise again.

The tickling caused her to squirm under him, which caused her to retaliate and retaliate she did. Her fingers began to move over his side and it wasn’t long before she hit a spot that both caused him to laugh and to lose his balance, weight dropping so his body was entirely pressed against her. It was much like they’d been this afternoon except for this time there was no bikini underwear or pillowcases separating them.

Killian groaned at the deliciously intimate contact as she opened her thighs and wrapped her legs around him. “This is better,” she sighed as he shifted over her, his cock sliding against her center.

“Better than what?” he panted, barely restraining himself from entering her right then and there. However, he’d waited so long for this he wasn’t about to ruin it by putting his own pleasure before hers.

“Than this afternoon when we were… naked… but you were out cold.”

“I’m glad you prefer me conscious,” he replied as he started kissing his way down her neck. “But you know you need never stand on ceremony with me.”

As he moved lower, she let her head fall back to the pillow as she sank back and enjoyed his ministrations. However, somewhere in the back recesses of her mind it registered that it was still cold, so she reached down and pulled the comforter up and over his back as his lips moved lower. There was no reason they couldn’t be cozy inside the covers and stay protected from the chill in the cabin. The only heat, and light, was still only coming from the fireplace and the stove.

He trailed slow kisses down to her shoulder and then across her collarbone, leaving no section of sensitive skin untended. Finally, his mouth found her breasts. He began licking, sucking and laving until Emma was moaning and writhing, her hands kneading his shoulders, but it wasn’t enough. Not early enough. She ran her palms across his back and up to his shoulders. Fingering the black locks at the nape of his neck, she gently slid her fingers through his hair, and gently tugged, trying to get him to look up at her.

Flushed and panting, when she finally succeeded at getting him to look at her, she brought one hand in front of his face and made the ‘come here’ gesture with her index finger.

Killian smiled wolfishly at her, but shook his head in refusal. He winked at her and then his face was back between her breasts, but this time he started kissing a line down her stomach. She sucked in a breath, and for a moment Emma lost her train of thought, lost the ability to think at all, the sensation of his tongue and lips on her skin creating a haze of pleasure and anticipation.

When he buried his head between her legs, Emma moaned so loudly it was as if a siren had pierced the silence of the old farmhouse. Killian chuckled against her thigh and redoubled his efforts.

Under the spell of his talented tongue and lips and teeth, Emma felt herself winding tight, pleasure coiling and spooling in her belly and thighs. Her mind went blank as she succumbed to the pleasure, not thinking just feeling.

When she let out another moan, she startled herself back to the moment. For a second, it all felt surreal, the day felt surreal, and she wondered if this were all nothing more than an erotic dream. She managed to lift the comforter and glance down. The sight of his head between her thighs sent another jolt of pleasure through her; oh, it was real all right. He was real. She was so close, and in that moment, she wanted him more than she could remember ever wanting anything in her life.

She once again slid her fingers gently into the hair at the top of his head and tugged. When he looked up she once again curled her index finger at him. “Now,” it came out in a breathless pant, but it also came out with great confidence.

“But I’m not fini-“

Cutting him off, she shook her head. “I. Need. You. Inside me. Now.” Her speech was disjointed as she panted for breath, but her intent was clear. In the dim light of the room, he could see the raw desire reflected in her eyes.

With no more invitation needed, he was on top of her, his cock straining against her hip, his eyes locking with hers, both sets of pupils blown wide. Up close, he was once again awed by the desire he saw there, but that wasn’t all he perceived. She was looking up at him with lust, hunger and something else... love perhaps? That thought made his heart clench tight in his chest; oh, how much his heart wanted it to be love. Even though he still lacked the confidence to presume that he’d won her heart, without a doubt, he knew the look held affection, the most tender affection. “Emma...” he said her name reverently, as if a prayer and an oath all in one.

She brought one hand up to trace the side of his face. In the firelight, his expression was open and loving and she could not believe someone was looking at her this way. No one had ever looked at her this way. Everything he felt for her was writ large across his face and the intensity was overwhelming. Swallowing roughly, she closed the inches between them and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Considering what they’d just been doing and what they were about to do it was almost comically innocent, but it was also sweet, tender, and full of promise. She squeezed her eyes shut as one tear leaked through her lids and rolled down her face.

When she leaned back, his eyes searched her face. Seeing the wet trail across her cheek, he asked, “You okay?”

She nodded and then smiled up at him. Truly and radiantly smiled and she answered his question by pushing her hips upwards against his and wrapping her legs around him. Her hands moved lower until they were gliding over his backside, with gentle pressure she squeezed his ass and urged him forward.

Killian grunted as he tried to restrain himself from ramming into her. He’d waited for this for so long, dreamed about it since the moment he’d met her, been tormented by it during their year apart and then thought this level of intimacy was out of reach once he’d found her. However, he did manage to restrain himself. Instead, he moved slowly, his cock instinctively finding the warm, wet path as he leisurely slid into her.

Emma sighed as he began to fill her, it was just as good as she’d imagined. Not that she’d fantasized about this... too much. Some. Okay, a lot, she’d fantasized about this a lot. After the earlier efforts of his talented tongue, she was already hyper-aroused, and she knew it wouldn’t take much to have her tumbling over the edge.

Heat pooled in her belly once again, as the drag of his cock against her inner walls created delicious friction as he slowly entered her. She took the opportunity to savor the feel of his weight on her, savored the way the hair of his chest brushed against her erect nipples, and remembered how it had felt when that had happened mere hours ago, but they’d been in a much different situation. She couldn’t enjoy it then, but she could certainly enjoy it now. With abandon, she arched her back, pressing her breasts more firmly into his chest. Now she could succumb to the pleasure. At this movement, Killian changed his angle over her, which put delicious pressure on her clit and she exploded.

Emma crashed over the edge just as Killian was fully seated in her, pleasure pulsing from her center, throbbing around his cock and rolling through her in waves. Killian gritted his teeth to keep her from pulling him over the edge with her.

Killian watched in awe as she unraveled underneath him, his cock still buried at deep as he could go. When Emma came back to earth and opened her eyes, he chuckled, waiting patiently, “I knew I was good, but I didn’t realize I was that good.”

Emma smiled up at him lazily. “Shut up and do it again.”

“As you wish,” he replied and began to move inside her. They found a rhythm almost immediately, as if they’d always been meant for this. A team through and through, as if the connection they’d forged as adversaries, then allies, and then friends and then as more translated perfectly to this primal dance as their bodies joined and became one.

TBC

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfiction #cs march madness #csmarchmadness #the mysterious case of the missing pirate #my fic #cs mm 18 #one more chapter to go

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doodlelolly0910 · 6 years

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Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind

Summary: Emma Nolan spent a lot of time alone, and that was fine by her. Because one is never truly alone. She should know. She can talk to dead people. What she didn't expect was one of these spiritual encounters to hang around, taking her down a rabbit hole of missing women, revenge, and, least expected, love. Can she save the day and Killian Jones? Is there even another choice?

Read it from the beginning on AO3 and FFN!

A/N: We're already on chapter four! Things with the case are really starting to heat up here, and some big background on Killian comes to light. Also, the confirmation on the identity of the woman Emma has been hearing all this time! I'm sure you guys have already guessed who she is, but her identity is confirmed here. Thanks so so much as always for reading and a HUGE thank you to the fantastic @kmomof4 being such an amazing part of this process as my beta and thanks to @courtorderedcake the brilliant artwork she's created for this piece. Enjoy chapter 4!

Chapter 4

Emma hated days like this. She knew from the multiple messages she'd gotten from Graham and Captain Mills that the tip had been heeded and the captain had sent out a search party to recover Marian's body last night. Which means Robin would be there this morning and very much grieving. Her heart hurt for him.

Unfortunately, Marian's death fit a laundry list of other victims in the area. She was a young woman, missing for several months, and connected to Weaver Gold. Of course, she was the only one that knew for sure that Weaver Gold was the actual killer, but without actual physical evidence, she couldn't make that accusation. Thankfully, Robin's former association with him was enough to warrant further investigation.

Emma arrived at the office a little earlier than usual, sipping on her iced coffee (no repeats of yesterday, thank you very much), and reviewing her case files before Graham got there. She flipped through a number of pages, looking at names and faces of so many missing girls she hoped she wouldn't find like Marian. Ashley Boyd. Ivy Belfrey. Ariel Havfrue. Shirin Amira. Aurora Prince. Young women that had all gone missing without a trace within the last six months, from all walks of life with seemingly no connection to one another, except one: Mr. Gold. In one way or another, usually through a deal they had made to get out of a bad spot in their lives, all of them had a connection to Gold. And now that a body had turned up, it was time to dig deeper. She turned back to the bulletin board set up with information on Gold and his enterprise and looked at the red yarn webbing connecting pieces of these women's lives to him and it made her blood boil. She was going to be the one to take him down. She had to be.

"Hey, Em." Graham's sheepish voice came from the doorway behind her as her partner made his way into their shared office. "You're here early."

Emma nodded and hummed an affirmative sound before turning back to study her board. Graham cleared his throat and she turned back to him to see him watching her intently.

"Something you needed, Humbert?" she asked, gathering her files on the desk.

"Ah, no. Well, yes. Kind of," he rambled and Emma raised an eyebrow. He sighed deeply before continuing. "What I mean to say is I feel bad about yesterday. I can't help but feel like maybe your migraine was partially caused by what happened with me startling you and the spill, and of course I feel terrible about that as well. Anyways, I wanted to see about making it up to you by maybe taking you to dinner?"

It was Emma's turn to sigh. Graham looked like such a hopeful little puppy every time he asked her out that, at first, she hated to say no, but she just wasn't in the same place as Graham was. That was at first. Now, she still wasn't in the same place he was and rejection came automatically to her.

"Sorry, Graham. Don't mix business with pleasure. Is Mills in yet?" She tried to change the subject around Graham's crestfallen change in expression. He nodded and began shuffling through papers on his own desk.

"Uh, yeah. I dunno if she even went home last night after they pulled the body. They're razing the whole field to see if there's anymore case files we can close." Graham seemed to have found everything he needed and nodded at his desk, not meeting Emma's eyes. "I'll, uh, see you out there."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut tightly as he left the office. When she was sure he was gone, she turned and picked up her case files and followed him out into the bullpen for the meeting.

Regina Mills was a no-nonsense, severe woman. She was rather imposing for her average stature, her raven hair always in its sleek bob, immaculate pantsuits for every occasion, big brown eyes that looked into the depths of your soul. Emma's two years under her as her captain were tumultuous, to say the least. Over time, they had learned to get along and had even become friends of a sort. Well, as close to being Emma's friend as you could get. But they understood each other, and that was more than Emma had with most people. Unbidden, Killian's face popped into her mind. Maybe he was someone who could understand, too. Emma shook his image from her head as fast as it entered, a flush crawling up her neck at how much she actually thought about someone she'd never even met before.

Things had actually been quieter on the encounters front. Instead of relief, Emma felt unsettled. She was always waiting for the other shoe to drop and she was very careful to avoid touching anything that might trigger her. Especially that damn shirt. But along with all of that, there was an underlying fear that she may be running out of time on multiple counts. If this Killian Jones needed rescue, she knew time was of the essence. Right now, though, she had a job to do.

She gathered her case files and walked into the bullpen, taking a seat on the edge of an open desk next to where Graham sat. A few other people had already gathered themselves. Jefferson, their tech analyst was typing away at his laptop, completely engrossed in his task. Two junior detectives, August Booth and Mulan Fa, stood chatting in front of the water cooler. The door to the central office opened and Captain Mills came striding out.

"Alright, people. As you all know, there was a huge break in the case yesterday with the unfortunate recovery of Marian Locksley's body. We still have no leads on the tip that came in leading to the location of her remains, but Jefferson is looking into that," she addressed the group and Jefferson gave a mock two fingered salute, eyes still glued to his screen. Emma felt butterflies rise up in her stomach, but she'd been careful. There's no reason she'd be found out. "Now, we have a solid lead on a connection to Weaver Gold in regards to these disappearances, but he's sealing up leaks quickly since the body was discovered. Information out of his operation is at an essential standstill. So, we'll have to get it from the source. Nolan, Humbert!" Emma's head snapped up at her name and Graham stood up straighter beside her.

"You have three days to get your affairs in order. Then you're undercover."

Emma's heart jumped into her throat as Regina continued to speak and passed them each a manilla folder with information on the identities created for them. She had never been undercover before in the four years since she'd been promoted to detective.

"Of course you'll want to use all in house resources before you go, you'll only have Jefferson as your contact once you are in the field," Regina continued and Emma looked up to her.

"Did Robin come in already?" she asked and Regina cocked an eyebrow.

"He's in my office. He's provided us with some invaluable intel towards your undercover assignment already," she replied.

"Is he... well, I mean I know he's not... but is he..." Emma struggled to find words to ask about the wellbeing of the man who had lost his wife. There was a reason Graham did most of the talking to the vics.

Regina gave a slow, cool nod.

"He's as well as can be expected," she said thoughtfully. It was rare to see an introspective Regina. She cared about a lot of things, but was never really one to wear her heart on her sleeve. Emma nodded, unsure of how to read Regina.

"Well, it looks like the going just got tough, so I better get going." She stood and the two nodded at each other before Emma walked to her office.

Inside, Graham was poring over the contents of the manila file on his desk with his undercover instructions. She sat opposite of him, eyeing him carefully. He sighed heavily.

"This is insane," he said, flipping his file closed sharply as Emma opened hers. She shrugged.

"We know the case the best. We've been working on it for months now and no one knows Gold better than the two of us. Makes sense." She continued to flip though the file outlining her role as a petty thief and Graham's as a fence of sorts. She scowled down at the pages in her hands.

"I know. You're right. I just can't help but feel like something bigger is going on. And I know that should make me more ready to go, but it just makes me nervous," he admitted. Emma looked up to him and studied the apprehension in his gaze.

"I know, Graham. It's a tough spot. But we're professionals and we can do this. At least we can count on one another." She offered him a warm smile which he returned with a stiff one of his own.

"Yeah. You're right. It must be first time undercover nerves. I'm gonna go grab a coffee and talk to Jefferson. You want anything?" he asked and Emma shook her head.

"No, I'm good. Gonna look through some things and probably head out for the day. Get everything ready to go." She shuffled the papers back into place and closed the folder.

"I'll leave you to it, then. See you Friday." He smiled gently at her again and she nodded her response, turning her attention to her computer as he left the space.

Emma rolled her neck, trying to relieve some tension. She could only hope this went smoothly and quickly. With Gold's status and notoriety, it was unlikely though. Her whole life was likely to be put on the back burner for quite some time. Ruby was going to be pissed. Protective pissed, but still pissed. And then there was the issue with Killian Jones. She felt a pang in her chest at the idea of leaving him to suffer through whatever she was supposed to be "saving" him from. She rolled the mouse on the screen as an idea came to her. She opened up a new search screen and began to type.

Killian Jones.

More than one result popped up in the records database, British naval records, immigration records, naturalization paperwork, guardianship records for one Liam Jones, but the blue eyes staring out from the mugshot on her screen she instantly recognized. So he had a past. She clicked on his arrest record and pulled up his history. Her jaw dropped almost comically.

Robbery.

Assault.

Burglary.

Breaking and entering.

Money laundering.

Evading arrest.

Attempted murder.

The litany of charges he had been arrested for was impressive, to say the least. Curiously enough, however, all charges were subsequently dropped after his arrest due to there not being enough evidence to hold him, except the assault. The assault, an apparently isolated incident against a man named Herman Ahab, he served two years behind bars for. But the scowling man with the piercing eyes and hard set to his jaw seemed absolutely capable of each and every allegation. A far cry to the soft image of a lost and hurting soul gazing wistfully over the sea that she had experienced before. Emma was more conflicted than ever. Was Killian Jones in danger? Or was he the danger himself? Before she could decide for herself the now familiar, but still panic inducing, scent of jasmine crept up on her causing her flesh to erupt in goose pimples.

Good man.

The soft voice murmured. Emma scoffed.

"Clearly," she said, feeling insane for acknowledging the encounter out loud. A surge of floral perfume surrounded her and the words were repeated, a little more forcefully.

Good man.

"If you say so. I don't know why I keep listening to you. I don't even know who the hell you are," she grumbled petulantly.

The voice whispered an answer to the statement she made almost immediately.

Milah.

"Milah, huh. You got a last name, Milah?" Emma asked, bringing up a new search screen to do a little more digging. As quickly as the encounter had come on, the scent of jasmine began to fade and Emma had the distinct feeling she was alone again.

She sighed heavily and clicked back on the page with Killian Jones’ information. The remaining charges on his rap sheet all appeared to be linked to a single arrest, so she pulled up the report and her heart almost slammed to a stop in her chest.

Killian Jones had been accused of trying to kill Weaver Gold.

Emma was never much of a believer in fate, but it seemed like there was something bigger at work here. Call it grand design, destiny, or whatever, there was much to get ready for.

#close encounters of the spiritual kind #chapter 4 #cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs ff au #csff

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butyouvealwaysbeenthecaretaker · 6 years

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Rationalism: Pros & Cons

I’ve been toying with both adding “rationalist adjacent” to my Tumblr bio, and attending an IRL meeting – but I’m feeling very two-minded. The pros are so powerful and important – but so are the cons, and I’d venture to say the cons are actually worse.

I think it would be good to come up with a new label for a certain sort of Rationalism. The diaspora is very big, and like many social movements, has a lot of different splinters. I’d like to use a new term for “the bit of the diaspora I like”, because there is so much here I don’t want to be associated with. And so much I do.

I really like what Rationalism means on Tumblr, and how I understand it from participating here. We could call it Handmedown Rationalism, 2nd Generation Rationalism, or maybe there is a term for it that I've not encountered. Maybe the term is "Tumblr Rationalism", although I am not positive that using "Tumblr" as a prefix will communicate kindness and gentility well. "Kelseyan Rationalism", perhaps.

You get a radically different vision of what Rationalism means depending on...

You mostly read EY and Less Wrong

You mostly read r/ssc

You mostly read theunitofcaring

You actually live in San Francisco, and these people are in your social structure, not merely your news feed

It's very important to me to communicate "I believe in a kinder world, and want to be part of making it happen". Rather than "statistically, white people are better, and consent isn't evolutionarily sound" or "The biggest issue of our time is a hypothetical technology's hypothetical behaviour, and if you don't sign your children up for cryogenic freezing you are a lousy parent".

I've been researching and reading for months now, and I don't think I can use the term because there's such an huge iceberg of esoteric ideas below the surface, and too many of them are silly, terrifying or wrong. But I think most people who've encountered Rationalism through Tumblr are in a similar place about what they want to communicate when they say "Rationalist", and what they think "Rationalist" means - or want it to mean.

Is there another word? Can we make one?

Under the cut, long post of my “pros and cons” of adopting the label…

Nice things about Rationalism

1) Discourse norms which make me feel comfortable and supported to participate in discussions. The only people I feel entirely safe around on Tumblr. Both: people I always feel safe commenting on or reblogging, and people who rarely if ever put distressing content or behaviour in my newsfeed. The sorts of complex conversations and big ideas Social Justice promised - but no one is yelling at me or weaponising social shame.

2) Evidence-based reasoning, and a call to be open criticism, change your mind, listen to those you disagree with, and back up your positions.

3) Optimism that we can change the world – much needed, in the face of cynicism and apathy. Beautiful traditions like celebrating the eradiction of smallpox.

4) Social structures offering alternatives to the traditional role of religion: whenever core Rationalist bloggers write about their lives, I am deeply envious. Co-living, people who are united by shared values and vision, social norms favouring neuro-atypical people, etc. I would like this in my life.

5) I really like the idea of stepping away from the “Culture War”, because it generates “much heat but no light”. There’s an important kernel of truth there, about focusing on facts and productive work over clickbait and quick wins.

6) Some of their low-level issues are salient for me. This includes – attempting to have a more generous approach to men as a group, a general fear of Social Justice norms, and a belief in experimental self-care/improvement regimens.

7) I really grok Rationalists. I'm on the same wavelength. They're people I want to spend time with. Rationalism makes people happy and gives them purpose; that's always a good.

I think most tumblr people who use rationalist/rationalist adjacent are primarily communicating 1 & 7. They have discomfort with social justice norms: they want the discussion, politics and tolerance, without the shouting and death threats. And they intuitively see Rationalists and think "ah! my people!"

Unsettling things about Rationalism

Pretty much everything in this category boils down to “it is most rational to act effectively to achieve a stated goal. Too many Rationalist community tropes encourage extremely inefficient approaches.”

1) Missing the wood for the trees. Or focusing so hard on the wood you walk into a tree.

Like: politely playing footsie with fascists. There is such thing as too much civility. It’s good to be open minded and question your assumptions – but life is short. I’m OK with calling scientific racism a settled conversation so we can move on to something more important and productive. Like: a lot of the background noise about women, relationships, and consent. Sometimes things can’t be explained from a pure rational stance, and it’s uncomfortable to watch people try. How comfortable am I being associated with a group which includes Robin Hanson…? His writings about rape are - simply awful.

I do not for one moment wish to be mistaken for a person who agrees with those articles, or believes racism deserves a fair hearing when repackaged to sound sciency.

Every group is like this, right? But it's an odds game. I'm OK with identifying as a feminist, because I know our fringe crazies are safely on the fringe and small in number. With Rationalism...the fringe is putting the best ideas into practice effectively, while the core writings and influential figures are so far out the Overton Window they've actually hit the ground and started walking.

2) There’s nothing more stupid than a man who believes he is very clever.

“My idea is more logical than yours” functions a bit like “I’m more oppressed than you” in Social Justice spaces. If the space holds the value that “the most logical argument is king” or “the most oppressed person is prioritised”, then you don’t actually get rational debate or equality. You get a stick everyone tries to use to get ahead. Too many people presenting themselves as clever, not enough actual humility or uncertainty. When more status is granted for Writing Clever Worldbreaking Things, it encourages overconfident pseudoscience instead of authentic, accurate doubt.

Also: factoring in emotions, impulsivity, and irrationality is a vital part of getting the right answer when it comes to human beings.

3) Subcultural norm against participating in politics. Political engagement is an important tool for changing the world. It’s not perfect, but it’s what we have – ignoring it is dangerous and daft.

4) Related: subcultural norm for starting from scratch over participating in someone else’s project.

The world is changed by those who do the dishes and take minutes at meetings. Lots of big-scale Rationalist projects attempt to duplicate stuff that already exists, or re-invent the wheel, instead of improving something imperfect and building on work already done. The Libertarian streak encourages this attitude towards government, and the urge to set up parallel agencies and initiatives – instead of working at the grassroots. Which is not glamorous, but it is effective.

5) The wrong goals.

You can change the world at a local level – whether that’s pressuring a local store, supporting local people, writing to councillors, becoming a councillor. Focusing on existential risk is…well, to reuse the phrase, it’s a lot of heat and no light. Masturbation and no money shot. Debates without answers, actions, or measurable outcomes. In short – it’s bad activism. Martin Luther King won by focusing attention on a particular cafeteria protest, a particular bus company.

6) Poor use of power.

Rationalism appeals to some of the smartest and most influential people on the planet – well-paid people in tech, who are ambitious, courageous and motivated. I’m pretty furious and horrified the ideology channels this energy towards AI Risk rather than, say, global warming – something which is definitely happening, hurting people right now, and could absolutely benefit from that passion, innovation, money, and a Libertarian alternative to government dawdling. Tech is – worryingly – powerful in the ways that governments are powerful; if you’ve developed a ideology which connects powerfully with people and makes them believe they can save the world, it’s a crime to then tell them to LARP about with imaginary robots. Like Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos farting around with Mars rockets instead of nuking wealth inequality, or setting up top-quality schools in deprived areas, or eliminating HIV, or…

7) Feels like a dodgy pyramid scheme.

“We should pledge to give a percentage of our income in effective ways to change the world” – brilliant! “We define ‘effective altruism’ as ‘AI research done by the founder of our movement’ – even though AI research has minimal impact, and our founder has no credentials.” Hmmm. Also "thank you for donating to our group for teaching Rationalist thinking. We have now decided to change our focus towards the aforementioned AI research. Alas, it's so speculative, don't expect measurable results or accountability for this - just know your money has been well spent, saving the world."

I think it’s very ugly to fill people with beautiful feelings, and then channel them into giving you money.

I think it's unsettling that Rationalism provides community for people who are outsiders, who are disabled, and who have scrupulosity issues - then says "good people in our community donate to our founder. It is the most rational action, and the only way to save the world."

Like, you have a captive audience of people who have - at long last - found their tribe. They're very vulnerable to social pressure which may lead to exclusion from the group. They're motivated by the idea of acting rationally, inspired by purpose you gave them to go out and make a difference - and experience acute distress at thinking they are not doing enough good. Do not. Squeeze these people for money. You asshole.

I don't think it's deliberate - but it's still wrong.

8) I like what the Sequences stand for – but not the Sequences themselves.

Learning how to reason, how the mind works, learning critical thinking, developing flexibility and introspection are all excellent. But I want to learn that from original texts by the best thinkers in the world. That is pretty emphatically not You Know Who.

9) Related: Amateurism.

In theory, I like the idea of teaching individual citizens how to use statistics, analyse scientific papers, how to run experiments, and tailor their own medication etc. In practice, these fields have experts in for a reason. Someone who attempts to use statistics, and does it poorly, is far more dangerous and worse off than someone who does not pretend to know, but trusts a reliable source. Core-Rationalism frequently includes people making definitive statements and presenting themselves as an authority, and being very overconfident about their expertise.

(A lot of this is neurodiverse stuff, right? Setting up your own grandiose project from scratch; being an auto-didact; mistrust of traditional authorities; being very clever etc. I’m too ADHD to function, so I can see where it’s all coming from – but it’s hardly optimised for efficiency or outcomes.)

10) There is no such thing as a safe community, and getting these things right is very difficult.

However, it is discomforting how many people close to the heart of power have credible abuse accusations against them. Also, how one of the key Rationalist organisations responded to an abuse accusation, with an inadequate internal process which concluded everything was fine. They’ve since backtracked. That’s not enough for me, because abuse scandal management reflects your innate understanding, bises, beliefs and background. You can’t backtrack when you realise that it looks bad, because the original misstep continues to reflect your group’s true values.

Also, the wider movement has a lot of beliefs which lay the groundwork for abuse: mistrust of feminism, economic approaches to dating, gender and sex, evolutionary psychology and pseudoscience, key figures arguing that rape is nicer than being cheated on...

11) People who say "I don't like Social Justice", and lowkey mean "I don't like feminism or being nice to transsexuals". Rather than how I mean it: "I don't like being frightened or walking on eggshells, I don't like how rage and shaming are totally OK, I don't like how inflexible and bad faith ideas are, I don't like how I've seen it used in real life as a weapon to gain power and control. I don't like bullies."

We are on the same venn diagram, but not nearly enough of an overlap. (Given the choice between a nasty person who supports my rights, and a kind one who does not, I choose: cutting off contact with humans and never leaving my house again)

12) Rationalism is a mere degree of separation from a lot of online movements and subcultures which are definite problems. The resurgence of polite scientific racism; anti-progressive pushbacks on LGBT rights and feminism; some of the MRA stuff, some of the incel stuff; treating Trump/politics as a dinner party debate rather than an active threat...

Can one promote Rationalism, without accidentally building these movements too...? It feels too close, and wilfully blind.

13) I want what the Rationalists I follow have. When I think about attending the local meetup, I imagine an evening spent with reddit users who think racism is very clever, and use phrases like 'not technically rape". How can I even consider adopting a label when I figure the odds are like...70/30 in favour of the rape Nazis? I do not imagine meeting people I would like to leave my child with. I do not think I will find an IRL mirror of for the cool, compassionate, nerdy people I follow online.

If you even have to ask "what percentage of this group are likely to be rape Nazis?", your have your answer.

#Handmedown Rationalism #In the caves behind my house I built a kinder world

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believingispowerfulmagic · 6 years

Text

“It’s a Love Story”: Love Story (Part Two)

This is the second part of my birthday gift to @glindalovesshoes! You can read the first part here. There is one...maybe two...more parts to come.

Enjoy!

Granny woke her several hours later, encouraging her to have a light lunch. Regina refused, tearfully explaining her situation to her governess. Granny listened, pressing her lips harder and harder until they were just a thin pale line. She shook her head. “I never understood why the upper classes insist on arranging marriages. I’ve hardly seen a happy one,” she said.

“I have no choice,” Regina sniffed. “Robin said we would get married and I believed him, even though I knew my parents would never approve. I still thought he would be able to give us forever.”

“And you no longer believe?”

“How can I?” Regina asked, tearing up. “I can’t see Robin, I can’t talk to him. I can’t even tell him goodbye. My hands are tied.”

Granny looked at her over the gold-rimmed spectacles perched on her nose. “Do you want to marry Leopold Blanchard?”

Regina shook her head. “I wanted forever with Robin. I still do.”

“Then you need to try to get that forever,” Granny said, sitting down next to her. “I know your mother has forbidden you from speaking to Robin, but I can get a message to my granddaughter. She knows his manservant and can pass a message for you.”

Sniffling, Regina saw a ray of hope and hugged her governess. “Thank you, Granny.”

“You’re very welcome,” the older woman said. “Don’t give up hope. Things will all work out. You’ll see.”

“I wish I could believe you but Mother...she seems even more powerful than the universe,” Regina replied, sitting back down on her bed.

Granny chuckled. “I doubt even Lady Cora Mills is that powerful. Now, I unfortunately have to get you ready for dinner with that man, so you write that letter and then I’ll work on getting it to Robin while you’re trying not to be sick at the thought of marriage to Leopold Blanchard. How does that sound?”

Regina nodded. “That sounds good. Hopefully, this nightmare will end soon.”

“I’m sure it will,” Granny told her, squeezing her hand. “You just have to believe.”

Sitting at her desk, Regina wrote a letter explaining that she was to be married to Leopold Blanchard and that her parents knew about their meetings in the garden. She warned him that their property was going to be guarded until they left London in about a week so he would be wise to stay away. Yet she also begged him to find a way to rescue her so they could be together like he promised and so she didn’t have to spend the rest of her life with Leopold Blanchard.

Granny took the letter and promised that Ruby would deliver it that night. She also promised to smuggle in any response Robin sent to her before getting Regina ready for the dinner with Leopold.

Leopold Blanchard had married later in life, being nearly forty while Eva had been closer to twenty. Regina remembered when their daughter Mary Margaret was born as she was ten and able to go to the christening, which made her feel all grown up. She remember people whispering about how difficult it had been for Eva to conceive and bear one child and that she most likely wouldn’t be able to have another so it was shame she had had a daughter rather than a son. It had been the first time where Regina realized that being a girl was a disadvantage in her world.

She knew the Blanchards were nobility and supposedly descended from some old royal or another. They owned a great deal of land called Mist Haven which was not far from her family’s ancestral home at Storybrooke and there had always been talk about combining the two houses to make the land one, though it hadn’t worked out in the past for some reason or another. It appeared the dubious honor of fulfilling that wish fell to Regina.

Dinner ended up being as boring as Regina had feared. A housekeeper had ushered them into the front parlor where Leopold and his daughter Mary Margaret were waiting for them. She was dressed in a white tea dress with white little boots and a white bow in her brown curls. Her green eyes sparkled as she hugged Regina, saying she couldn’t wait to get to know her better and inviting Regina up to her nursery after dinner to see her dolls and other treasures. Knowing it was the very last thing she wanted to do, Regina let Mother answer for her.

“We would love to spend time with you, Mary Margaret. Isn’t that right, Regina?” Mother asked, silently warning Regina to agree with her.

“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth. “It sounds fun.”

Leopold beamed. “Already so maternal!”

“Come, Miss Mary Margaret. Let’s let the adults talk,” Johanna said. She was Mary Margaret’s governess and she took the girl’s hand, leading her back upstairs to the nursery.

Regina then couldn’t help but notice the giant portrait of Eva hanging over the mantle. Flowers were placed at the base as well as a candle, almost looking like a shrine. Leopold glanced up at it, his eyes softening as he took in her image and it was clear to Regina--while people of their status didn’t usually marry for love, it was clear Leopold loved his late wife. She was no doubt going to have to live in the shadow of ghost.

“Why don’t we head into the dining room? I believe the chef is ready with our first course,” Leopold said, motioning across the hall. He held out his arm and Mother gently pushed Regina into him, so that she had to link arms with him. She walked with him into the dining room while her parents followed, seething the entire time.

Once their food was served, Leopold hardly spoke to her, choosing instead to spend most of his time discussing business with Daddy. The few times he addressed the wedding, Mother always answered. All Regina had to do was sit there, nod and smile. It took all her energy to do that, especially toward the end of the night when Leopold declared that Regina was just what she was looking for in a wife. “She’s beautiful and knows her place as a woman,” he said. “Quiet and docile.”

Regina blood boiled but she had to keep smiling on. All she could do was make a fist under the table, pressing her nails so hard she was almost certain she drew blood. She hoped her gloves later would be able to hide them.

She also took solace from the way Daddy had grown uncomfortable after that statement. However, Mother had smiled widely and placed a hand on Regina’s arm. “Regina has been brought up to be a proper wife and lady of the house, I can assure you that. She will rule the servants with an iron fist but be soft and docile in the bedroom.”

The way Leopold’s eyes lit up at that made Regina sick and she considered feigning being faint just so she could get away from the man.

Leopold then rose from the table. “Henry, care to join me in the study for an after dinner brandy?”

“Yes, of course,” Daddy said, standing up as well.

Mother smiled and laid her hand on Regina’s arm. “We’ll head up to visit with Mary Margaret like we promised.”

“Good to hear it,” Leopold said, smiling at Regina. “I’m certain you and my daughter will get along well.”

Regina just smiled and nodded.

Once the men had left, Mother turned to Regina. “You could’ve been a bit more enthusiastic about it and not looked like you were being tortured when Leopold escorted you into the room.”

“I’m trying my best, Mother, but it’s hard to stomach this whole situation,” Regina said, standing from the table.

Mother grabbed her arm and jerked her closer, a frightening look in her eyes. “Listen to me. This marriage is happening so you better lose the attitude and be the happy, docile wife Leopold wants. Understand?”

“I’m sorry, Mother. I just can’t turn off my emotions like you can. Unlike you, I actually have a heart!” Regina replied hotly.

The sound of skin hitting skin echoed around the room and Regina clutched her stinging cheek as her mother’s hand hung in midair. Fire burned in Mother’s eyes. “Your father has spoiled you rotten but that tongue will not get you anywhere in this world. You will learn to bite it or so help me God, I will cut it out myself! Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mother,” Regina said, tears springing to her eyes. For the first time in her life, she was truly afraid of the woman and feared that her mother would hurt her. She knew she needed to get out of her house and while it would break her father’s heart, running away was her only option.

She followed her mother upstairs to Mary Margaret’s nursery and sat there, though she didn’t really listen as the girl prattled on about her dolls and her dresses. Mary Margaret showed them stupid tricket after stupid trinket, flashing her silly little life as Mother fawned over her. All Regina wanted to do was run screaming from the house and she prayed that Robin would come for her.

If not, she would just have to forge her way in the world on her own.

Granny handed her a letter two mornings later. “Ruby got this last night and snuck it to me. You best read it quick before your mother comes around. They were preparing the carriage so I think you’re heading back to the Blanchards at some point today.”

Regina groaned as she took the letter. “Thank you, Granny.”

She sat on her bed, breaking the seal and feeling her spirits soar as she read over Robin’s words.

My Dearest Regina,

Your warning reached me just in time. I was preparing to visit you yet again when I got your note telling me not to come. My man, Will, confirmed that there were guards on the property so though I was loathed to miss a night with you, I knew it was best if I stayed away. Thankfully Will agreed to get a message back to you, so I am writing you now.

I had heard rumors that Leopold was going to marry again but I didn’t know it was to you! The despair in your letter made my blood boil, Regina. Do not give up hope yet, my love. I will come for you.

Please stay where you are. I will send a signal for you when it’s safe for us to meet again. Be prepared to not return home, though. Eloping seems to be our only choice.

You are my future, Regina.

I love you.

Yours always,

Robin

She folded the letter, her heart beating faster in her chest. It was really going to happen--she was going to be one of the girls people in their circles gossipped about, the ones they shook their heads and muttered about how shocking it was since they such a good upbringing. Yet she understood them better. She understood why they had run away, why they had chosen love. She was about to do the same.

It both thrilled and scared her.

“Quick, hide the letter,” Granny told her. “Your mother is coming.”

Regina quickly stuffed the letter under pillow as the door opened. Mother stepped in, sniffing as she took in Regina. “You’re still in your nightgown? You lazy girl! And you, you should’ve had her ready by now!”

Mother had directed that last part to Granny, but the woman didn’t flinch. She just kept a steady gaze on Mother over the rims of her glasses. “I would’ve but you never told me where you were going. How can I properly dress her without that knowledge?”

“Insolence!” Mother huffed. “We’re going out for lunch. Dress Regina for a nice restaurant.”

She then stormed out of the room while Granny rolled her eyes, turning to Regina with a sneaky smile. “I hope that boy of yours comes for you soon. You deserve to be free of that woman.”

“Thank you, Granny,” Regina said, pulling the letter from under her pillow. “Can you put this somewhere my mother won’t find it? I can’t run the risk she’ll search my room.”

Granny took the letter and tucked it into her dress. “Don’t worry about it. Now, let’s get you ready before your Mother has both our heads.”

Robin didn’t send another letter for almost a week. During that time, Regina was forced to endure outings and dinners with Leopold and Mary Margaret Blanchard. Leopold hardly spoke to her except to pose rhetorical questions she just had to smile and nod to while Mother whispered threats in her ear to remind her why she needed to do it. Mary Margaret tended to take up most of her time, chattering away about stupid topics that made Regina want to scream.

Every night, she slowly packed a bag so she could be ready to leave when Robin sent for her. She didn’t worry too much about clothing, figuring she and Robin could always buy more once she was free from the house. Instead, she ensure she packed the items she truly treasured--jewelry from her father, her favorite books, and some other knick-knacks she had collected over the years. Granny hid her bag for her to avoid detection by Mother, who no doubt would stop everything the moment she found out.

Leopold invited Regina to join him and Mary Margaret for a stroll in the park. Mother, though, wasn’t able to go with them as a chaperone as she had been invited to tea that afternoon. Daddy went instead and Leopold spent most of the time talking with him while Regina was forced to stay behind with Mary Margaret, who skipped along the path with a kite.

“Daddy says I can fly it today,” she told Regina. “Will you help me?”

“Oh,” Regina replied, hesitating. “I’ve never flown one myself.”

Mary Margaret stopped, staring at Regina in shock. “You’ve never flown a kite? Like...ever?”

When Regina shook her head, Mary Margaret smiled. “That’s alright. You can fly my kite as well!”

“That’s...very kind of you,” Regina said, forcing herself to smile when all she wanted to do was run far away from the girl, her stupid kite and most of all, her father.

A gust of wind blew through the park and Regina reached up, holding her hat in place. Mary Margaret, though, chose to keep hold of her kite instead and so her little pink hat blew off. She let out a cry and looked confused as to what she needed to do next as it landed in a tree not far from the path.

Regina sighed, crouching down to rub her back. “You wait here. I’ll go get it.”

“Thank you, Regina,” she said, relieved. “That’s my favorite hat.”

“Of course it is,” Regina muttered, lifting her skirt as she stepped onto the grass to head to the tree.

She approached it and reached up, frowning when she realized the hat was a bit further up then she had thought. Regina rose up on her toes, stretching her arm as far as she could but her fingertips only grazed it. Huffing, she wondered if she could get away with climbing it or if it would scandalize everyone in the park.

“Do you need help, miss?” a voice with a coarser accent asked her.

Regina looked over to find a man not much older than her standing there. He was dressed in a nice suit, though it seemed to have been made for someone else as it didn’t fit him quite right. A brown hat rested on his head but what she could see of his dark hair was cut close to his head, even closer than men had taken to wearing their hair nowadays. Still, he seemed kind and was taller than her, meaning he could easily reach the hat.

“My….” Regina paused, trying to figure out what exactly Mary Margaret was to her before deciding on a word. “My companion’s hat is stuck in the tree. Can you get it for me?”

“Of course,” he said. He stepped closer to her, easily reaching up and plucking the hat from its perch.

The man held it out to her and she took it, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said but he didn’t let go of the hat. Instead, he leaned closer to her. “Robin says to be ready tonight. He’ll come for you when the watch changes.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she realized he must’ve been Will, Robin’s manservant. She nodded and thanked him again as he released his hat. Regina held it close to her chest as Will tipped his own hat to her, wishing her a good day.

She walked back to Mary Margaret in daze, barely hearing the girl’s gushing thank you or Leopold’s praise of how maternal she was to go get his daughter’s hat for her. All Regina could think about was that night, when she would dress in her simplest outfit and grab her bag in order to flee her family’s home--never to return--so she could start a new life with Robin. Freedom was in her grasp and she grew hopeful it wouldn’t be ripped from her.

Perhaps she could get her happy ending after all.

That night, Regina laid in bed but she knew she would not fall asleep. She was dressed in a simple shirt and gray skirt, her hair braided. Her boots sat next to her bed as did her bag, after she had double and triple checked it. She had hugged her father extra tight that night and then thanked Granny for everything, wishing the woman will in her life. Granny assured her that she would be fine and made Regina promise to keep in touch once she was settled into married life with Robin.

Butterflies flew about her stomach and she felt jittery, like one of her horses that just needed to run across a wide open field. She strained her ears, listening for the striking of the clock. The watch changed at eleven and she kept counting the chimes, waiting for the right amount that would send her from her bed and into Robin’s arms.

After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the nearest clock strike eleven. She pushed back the blankets and slipped out of bed. Grabbing her shoes and bag, she crept through her quiet house. Nights of sneaking out to meet Robin had taught her where all the creaks and squeaky spots were so she avoided them like a pro. With the kitchen once again clear, she made it out of the side door without being seen.

She hid by her apple tree, frowning as she spotted the servants her parents still had watching the gardens. Regina didn’t know how she was going to get past them when she heard someone whistling. She held her breath as Will approached the servant guarding the back entrance.

Regina couldn’t hear what they said but she watched Will swing at the guard, who tackled him to the ground. The two wrestled in the middle of the street as the other servants came to help him. She took her chance, racing for the gate. Will continued to keep the servants distracted as she spotted a carriage near her family’s house. She raced toward it and the door opened, Robin appearing. He held out his hand to her and pulled her inside.

The door closed behind her and the carriage lurched forward, carrying her away from her parents’ house. She turned to Robin, who was sitting next to her, and smiled. “Hello.”

“Regina,” he breathed, as if saying a prayer. He cupped her cheek and she closed the gap, kissing him.

They broke the kiss and she frowned. “What about Will?”

“He’s quick on his feet. He’ll be fine,” Robin assured her. “He’ll see us back at the house and in the morning, come to the courthouse with us.”

Excitement filled her at the thought of marrying Robin and she smiled. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

He smiled back. “Yes, we are. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, just like I promised.”

She laid her head on his shoulder as he took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I can’t wait.”

The carriage rolled on to their future and Regina closed her eyes, feeling the excitement and nerves from her escape wear off. She relished having Robin’s warmth and strong body next to her, breathing in his now familiar pine scent. Images flashed in her mind and she saw herself spending a whole life with him--one filled with laughter, respect and most of all, love.

It was going to be amazing.

Robin’s family lived in one of the older houses located on Hanover Street. She guessed his father bought it from some old money family that had fallen on hard times, allowing the wealthy factory owner a chance to situate his family amongst the class their wealth dictated they belonged to but was full of people who didn’t accept them just yet.

She wondered what would happen to his family once everyone learned she had eloped with Robin. It was likely they would be scorned even more and treated as pariahs.

“Robin?” she asked as he helped her down from the carriage. “Do your parents know about our plan?”

He paused after opening the gate to his property and shook his head. “Not yet. However, know they will support us once we explain it to them.”

She frowned. “Are you certain? Your family’s position in society is so precarious. We could all be outcast over this.”

“They won’t care,” Robin insisted, taking her bag and leading her toward his back door. “My parents are used to people turning up their noses at us. They’d rather see us happy and married than worry about what others might think.”

Regina wasn’t too confident about that but she didn’t know Robin’s parents, so she guessed she would have to wait to see how they reacted in the morning.

He led her into his family’s kitchen, where a young blonde woman in simple gray dress met them. She smiled widely at them. “Is this her, Master Robin?”

“Yes, it is,” he said, pulling Regina closer. “Tink, this is Lady Regina. Regina, this is Tink. She will be your lady’s maid.”

Tink bobbed a curtsy. “Pleased to meet you.”

“And you,” Regina said, giving her a little bow. She believed she was going to like her lady’s maid.

Robin smiled at Tink. “Is the guest bedroom set up for Lady Regina?”

“It is. Would you like me to escort Lady Regina there now?” she asked.

He turned to Regina, kissing her hand. “Are you ready to turn in? We do have a busy day tomorrow. Or rather, today.”

She smiled. “I do not know if I’ll be able to sleep due to all the excitement but I should try.”

“Then I shall see you in the morning,” he replied. He leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

She smiled into the kiss, knowing she had a lifetime of this to look forward to. “Good night, she told him.

“Good night,” he replied, “and sweet dreams.”

Tink took her bag from Robin and smiled at Regina. “Follow me, please, ma’am.”

“You can call me Regina,” she told the maid.

Tink paused before nodding. “You’ll fit in just fine around here.”

A thrill ran through Regina to hear that.

Tink led her up a back staircase and turned immediately into a room right at the start of the hallway. It was painted a pale blue color with dark blue blankets and pillows covering the bed positioned between two windows. A large armoire sat against one wall and Tink opened it so she could unpack Regina’s bag.

She first pulled out Regina’s nightgown, laying it out on the bed. Tink looked up at her. “Do you need any help?”

“Just getting out of my corset,” Regina replied, unbuttoning her shirt.

Once her shirt and skirts were off, Tink helped her out of her petticoats and easily untied Regina’s corset. She then motioned to her linen undergarments. “Do you leave your chemise or drawers on?” Tink asked.

“Just my chemise,” Regina replied, sliding the pants off. She then let Tink pull her silky nightgown over her body, pulling out her hair from the high collar. “Thank you, Tink.”

Tink nodded before pulling out Regina’s brush from her bag. “Sit down and I will brush your hair before you turn in.”

Regina took a seat and she felt Tink undo her braid before the brush was pulled through her hair. Fiddling with her skirt, Regina decided to ask Tink some of the questions spinning through her mind. “Do you think Robin’s parents will like me?”

“Of course they will,” Tink replied. “Everyone has been curious about the beautiful and intelligent young woman that has stolen Master Robin’s heart, especially his parents. They’ll definitely love meeting you at last.”

“Would they approve of our plan to elope?” Regina asked. Tink was silent for a few seconds and that seemed to be enough of an answer. Sighing, Regina then asked: “Is this worth it then?”

Tink laid the brush down. “Do you love Master Robin?”

“I do. Very much.”

“In the end, that’s all that will matter to his parents. They just want him to be happy and when they meet you, they’re going to want the same thing.” Tink then moved toward the bed and turned it down. “Now, it’s very late. Why don’t you try to get some sleep and I’ll wake you in the morning?”

Regina nodded, though her stomach was still twisted in knots. She wanted to marry Robin and be his wife, but she did question if they were going about it the right way. As she climbed into bed, she asked for some sign that they were doing the right thing.

It felt like Regina had just fallen asleep when she was awakened by loud knocking echoing through the house. The knocking was loud and steady, meaning the person on the other side was persistent and likely not to go away soon. She pushed back the blankets as her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Creeping toward the door, she opened it and watched what was going on.

Another door opened and an older man emerged from it, tying his bathrobe. He had graying blonde hair and just from his profile, Regina knew it was Robin’s father--he got his looks from the man.

“Andrew? What’s going on?” a female voice asked. A tall blonde woman stepped out of the same room wrapped in her dressing gown. She took Robin’s father’s arm and Regina knew it was his mother.

“I don’t know, Mary. You stay up here and I’ll go see who is at the door,” Andrew told her, pulling his arm from her grasp. He headed downstairs as the knocking grew so loud, Regina thought the door would come off its hinges.

Robin emerged from his room. “What’s going on, Mum?”

“Mr. Locksley, we believe this is one of your servants,” a loud, authoritative voice drifted up the stairs. “He was found fighting some of the servants at the Mills’ household.”

“I see. Robin!” Andrew called up the stairs. “Come down here, please.”

Robin shared a look with his mother but she shook her head. “I don’t know what’s going on but you go down there and explain it,” she said, gently pushing him toward the staircase.

Mary followed her son down the stairs and Regina grabbed her dressing gown, wrapping it around her as she took the chance to get closer to the stairs so she could hear what was happening. She clung to the wall so to stay out of sight as she glanced down the wooden staircase, having a clear view of the front door.

A bobby stood there, dressed in blue and a nightstick clutched in his gloved hand. His other hand was still closed on Will’s jacket and Regina covered her mouth as she beheld Robin’s manservant. Will’s eye was swollen shut and his lip was split, dried blood covering it. She had no doubt there were also other bruises she couldn’t see under his clothes that came from the fight he had picked so she could escape.

She owed him an apology, a thank you and perhaps a token of her affection once all of this was over.

“Robin, what do you have to say about this?” Andrew Locksley said, looking at his son sternly.

“And before you answer, son, let me tell you that one of the servants spotted Lord and Lady Mills’ daughter running from the garden and climbing into a fine carriage while your man was fighting with other servants,” the bobby said, giving Robin a knowing looking.

Andrew and Mary glared at their son, who seemed to be playing nonchalant judging by his tone when he replied: “Oh?”

Daddy then stepped into the house and Regina’s heart stopped. He looked like he had aged several years in the few hours she had been gone. She wondered if he had always had those wrinkles and creases in his forehead and if those bags under his eyes were always so dark. His brown eyes held so much pain and sorrow as he clutched his hat close to his chest.

“Please, Robin,” he pleaded. “Her mother and I know you have been secretly courting her. We also know that she has fallen in love with you and is full of enough romantic notions to pursue elopement....”

Regina frowned. That last statement didn’t sound much like her father. In fact, it sounded more like her mother. Anger boiled inside her over the thought that Mother had convinced Daddy her plan to marry Robin was just a “romantic fantasy” rather than what she truly wanted to do with her life.

“You make her sound like a foolish girl being led astray by dreams,” Robin said, anger simmering in his tone. “We both know she is an intelligent woman who knows her own heart and has worked up the courage to follow it.”

Regina had to resist the urge to run down the stairs and kiss him senseless right there. Instead, she smiled as she continued to watch from the shadows.

“I’m sorry but we’re going to have to search your house for the young lady,” the bobby said.

Andrew Locksley frowned. “Like hell you will. You and Lord Mills can leave right now and come back in the morning when my solicitor can also be present.”

“This is my daughter,” Daddy protested. “She needs to come home.”

“She needs her freedom,” Robin countered as his mother pulled him away from Daddy.

The bobby stepped closer to the small group. “This isn’t a request, Mr. Locksley.”

“Of course not,” Andrew said, scorn in his voice. “Because some count made the request, my rights no longer matter.”

Fearing a fight was about to break out, Regina knew she had no choice but to reveal herself. She emerged from the shadows, coming down the stairs. “There’s no need for a search. I’m right here.”

“Regina,” Daddy said as his shoulders relaxed and a light came back to his eyes. “Your mother and I were so worried.”

“I’m sorry but I did what I had to do. I don’t want to marry Leopold Blanchard. I want to marry Robin and in the morning, we’re going to do that,” she said, taking Robin’s hand once she reached the landing. He laced their fingers together and smiled at her.

Daddy looked awkward. “Regina, you can’t be serious…”

“I am,” she said, holding her head high.

Robin gave her hand a squeeze. “I promise to take care of her and love her for the rest of my life, sir. I will do my best every day to make sure she is happy.”

“That’s...That’s not how this works, son,” Daddy said, looking awkward again. “There are rules that must be followed. Elopement...it’s quite scandalous.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be,” Robin replied, holding her father’s gaze.

Daddy reached for Regina. “You need to come home, sweetheart. We can work this all out in the morning.”

“No,” she said, curling closer to Robin. He wrapped his arm around her and held her against his body. “I’m not going with you.”

“Regina, please, stop this foolishness and come home,” Daddy said, his voice as stern as possible.

As much as she hated to disobey him and despite the guilt racking her over the pain in his eyes, she remained attached to Robin. “I am going to marry Robin.”

Mary Locksley stepped forward, placing her hand on Regina’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s best if you do go home. We can all then discuss this in the morning after we’ve had a good night’s sleep and have clearer heads.”

“Mum!” Robin exclaimed indignantly.

She narrowed her eyes at her son. “You need to trust me that this is for the best. Regina needs to go home.”

“NO!” Regina yelled, pulling away from everyone. She felt everything slipping away--her hopes, her dreams, her only chance at love and happiness. Tears pricked her eyes and she started to cry as anger filled her.

Through her tears, she saw her father approach her. He reached out. “Regina, please, it’s going to be alright.”

“It’s not going to be alright. You’re going to take me home and then whisk me back to Storybrooke first thing in the morning. Mother’s probably back at the townhouse overseeing all the packing now. Then as soon as possible, you’re going to announce my betrothal to Leopold and then marry me to him. And I’ll spend the rest of my life stuck in a marriage with a man who thinks my greatest quality is the fact that I’m so silent. A man who keeps looking past me and seeing his dead wife. Because that’s who he wants. He wants Eva. He wants me to just sit there and he can pretend I’m her, all while being a glorified nursemaid for his daughter!” she yelled.

Daddy grew pale as he once again tried to reach out for her. “Regina, this is not the time or place…”

“It’ll never be the time or place, so I’m just going to keep talking,” she said, enjoying how good it felt to finally voice all her feelings. “You and Mother have dismissed Robin just because of where his wealth came from, because he wasn’t born one of us. You haven’t even gotten to know him like I have. If you did, you would know that he’s loving and intelligent and funny and respectful. He actually has conversations with me and listens to what I say. He values what I think and what I like. He answers my questions rather than just tell me it’s ‘something only men need to worry about, no women.’ He doesn’t treat me like I’m going to break if he breathes on me wrong, he knows I am made of stronger materials than porcelain. He loves me for who I am--flaws and all. Why wouldn’t I want to spend the rest of my life with someone like that rather than someone like Leopold Blanchard?”

“Please, sir,” Robin said, softly. “Please let Regina stay and let us get married in the morning. Please respect her wishes.”

“It’s not that simple,” Daddy said. He turned to Mary and Andrew. “Can you help me?”

Both appeared pensive and Regina watched them share a look. Andrew approached her father. “Perhaps we could talk in my study, Lord Mills, while my wife helps Regina dress?”

“Father!” Robin exclaimed. “Mum!”

Mary shook her head as she placed her hand on Regina’s shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later, Robin. Come with me, Regina.”

Her fight left her along with her last hope. Regina nodded and moved toward the stairs, feeling Mary following her. They headed back to the bedroom Robin had given her and Regina resigned herself to an unhappy fate.

“Mum, we’re not going to talk about this later,” she heard Robin say, making her heart speed up. “Please, talk to me now. I don’t understand this at all.”

Mary sighed, pausing on the stairs. Regina paused at the top, waiting to see what would happen. After a few seconds, she heard the older woman say: “Fine. Come with us.”

Robin followed them into the bedroom and Mary closed the door. “I know you’re upset,” she started.

“I’m beyond upset,” Robin replied, seething. “I’m angry. I thought you would’ve supported us.”

“Maybe if you had talked about this plan with us rather than going through with it,” she shot back before sighing. “Look, it’s clear to me you two are very much in love. And I do believe you will be happy together.”

Regina frowned. “Then why are you sending me home?”

Mary cupped her cheek and she winced, causing the woman to withdraw her hand with a frown. Regina wanted to apologize but she didn’t know how to explain that such a gesture, which felt loving and soothing from Mary, often preceded a slap from Mother. Yet looking at Mary’s eyes, Regina had the feeling she understood perfectly.

Instead, she took Regina’s hand in her own. “Because as parents, we want what’s best for you and Robin. Getting married this way will invite a lot of whispers and rumors and just shroud your relationship in scandal. We want you two to do this the right way. To court in public, to have public betrothal announcement and to get married in church with everyone there to watch it. Our family is already subject to so much scorn, I do not want you to bring more upon yourself. I want you both to show them how respectably you are so you can continue to move about this world.”

“This world?” Robin asked and Regina swore she almost saw smoke coming from his eyes. “Why should I care about this world? No one likes us and they don’t think I’m right for Regina.”

“Prove them wrong,” Mary challenged him. “Don’t steal her away in the middle of the night, court her in broad daylight. Show them that you are the right man for her and silence all their criticism by not giving them anything to gossip about, by forcing them to admit you are a good man. You will force them to accept you for what you are--a gentleman like them.”

“Even better than them,” Regina told him with a smile. It then faltered as she turned to Mary. “What if my parents do take me away? What if they do force me to marry Leopold as soon as possible.”

Mary took her hand again. “My husband is no doubt downstairs trying to convince your father not to do anything soon, to give us time to let Robin prove he should be the one to marry you. But if that fails...well, we’ll revisit the running away and eloping in secret plan.”

“Thank you, Mum,” he said, engulfing her in a hug.

She hugged him back before pushing him toward the door. “Now, go wait downstairs while I get Regina ready. We’ll be down in a bit.”

Robin left the room and Mary closed the door behind him. She then turned to Regina, opening her arms. “May I give you a hug?”

“Yes,” Regina said, almost falling into the woman’s open embrace. As Mary hugged her close, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was what it felt like to have a mother who loved her rather than saw her as just some pawn to advance their position in the world.

Mary stroked her hair. “It’s going to work out, I promise you. Hopefully it will work out the way we want, where you and Robin can do everything as society demands. But if not, I will help you through the scandal and whispers. We’re used to it by now.”

“That’s not fair,” Regina whispered. “You all seem like such good people. Why should it matter where your money comes from?”

“I think you’ve been in this world long enough to know that wealth and power are really all the matters to most people of our station. And they don’t like the idea that the so-called lesser classes can now rise to get some of that,” Mary said, pulling back. She brushed back some of Regina’s hair. “It’s not fair but that’s how it is.”

Regina nodded. “I just wish it was different.”

“I know.” Mary let her hands fall to her side. “Now, let’s get you dressed before your father thinks I’m holding you captive for Robin.”

Mary carried Regina’s bag as they headed back downstairs. The bobby was no longer there and it seemed Will had been dismissed to tend to his wounds. Only Robin, Daddy and Andrew were waiting for them as they reached the landing.

Daddy took the bag from Mary. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, giving her husband a pointed look.

Andrew stepped forward. “You remember our agreement, Lord Mills? Regina doesn’t leave London for a week.”

“I know,” Daddy said, making hope swell in Regina’s chest. It grew more when he said: “You will also call on me in the afternoon with Robin.”

“Yes,” Andrew replied, holding out his hand. “Until then.”

Daddy shook it before turning to Regina. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”

She nodded but moved closer to Robin, taking his hand. He gave it a squeeze as she searched his eyes for a sign of hope. The blue of his eyes seemed to sparkle and she smiled, believing things would work out. “I love you,” she told him.

“I love you too,” he said. He gently gripped her chin and tilted her head up. There, in front of her father and his parents, he kissed her. It was a chaste kiss but it was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

He broke the kiss and stepped back, letting her go with her father. Daddy ushered her from the Locksley house and into the carriage waiting in front of the house. She usually sat next to him when they rode together but tonight, she sat opposite him and stared out the window as the carriage lurched forward.

She watched as the Locksley house disappeared into the night before sighing. Daddy sighed as well, his shoulders slumping. “You really do love him, don’t you?” he asked.

“I do,” she said softly.

“And marrying Leopold would really make you that unhappy?” he asked.

She nodded. “I don’t think any amount of time will make me come to love him or for him to come to see me, not Eva. I will be miserable the rest of my life married to him.”

“I see,” he said. They then lapsed into a silence that would last until they got home. Regina didn’t mind though. Her mind kept her occupied as she imagined a life with Robin, a life that seemed more and more possible with every passing minute.

She finally believed that maybe, just maybe, she could get her happy ending.

TBC

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #oq au #oq ff #IT'S A LOVE STORY

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