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The Order Forgot Me First - Chapter 11

☆⁠ PAIRING : Anakin Skywalker x Reader

☆⁠ word count: 3.6k

☆⁠ story themes: lovers to enemies to eventually lovers

☆⁠ warnings: spoilers to swtcw, angstttt and a bit of fluff !!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

"He finally understood just how badly he had lost you."

Your helmet hung loosely under your arm, your boots scraping against the cruiser's floor, fidgeting. Clones began to move around you in practised order as their voices blended in with the hum of the engine. 

You tried to shake off what Anakin had done to you. But you couldn’t ignore the pang in your heart. 

As you waited for the LAAT gunship to depart, you couldn’t miss the way you saw Rex shifting closer to you, inch by inch. 

Until he cleared his throat. 

“You holding up okay, General?” he asked cautiously. 

You blinked and offered him a tight smile. “I’m not a general,” you softly said, adjusting your gloves. 

Rex rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his face. “You could’ve fooled me.”  He said, in an attempt to make you feel better. 

You offered a humorless laugh. “I’m just here to help.”

“And you’re doing more than that,” Rex said gratefully. 

Across the deck, Anakin shifted. 

There was a subtle roll of his shoulders, his head tilting ever so slightly as if he was pretending to study the map and not eavesdrop onto your conversation. You caught it without meaning to. 

And just as fast as you noticed, you dropped your gaze. Focus on the mission. That’s all you had right now.

--- --- --- --- --- ---

Eventually, the gunship roared as it broke the dry clouds of Saleucami, red dirt and dust flying as you descended. 

You stood in the troop bay, your blaster slung across your chest and your palms sweaty. It would be a lie to admit that you’re not nervous. You had fought in battles worse than this but not without your lightsaber. It wasn’t even clipped to your belt right now. 

You were a soldier now. Just like the clones. No Jedi robes, no cloak. INstead, you had armour padded fabric and tactical plates. As soon as the ship touched down, you moved. 

Cody’s voice cracked through the comms. 

“Rex, sweep through the pass. L/n, take the ridge and get eyes on the southern basin. There could be droids underground.”

“Copy that,” you muttered. 

Once the hatch opened, the hot air hit you like a furnace. It hadn’t since you and Dev were there. Still the same dry clay pit. 

Anakin wasn’t paired with you, of course he wasn’t. He hadn’t looked at you once.  He with some of his own troops from the 501st, and you with some of his. 

Dogma and Kix were by your back, “Keep low,” you whispered. “There might be thermal signatures by the rocks. Last time I was here, there were big cave pockets that tunnel out.”

Kix gave a low whistle, “guess you’ve been here more than us.” 

You shrugged, crouching near some scorched stones and you raised your macrobinoculars. There was movement, subtly but there was movement. 

“Something’s moving,” you said, marking it. “West quadrant. Might be droids.” You pulled out your rifle. 

And then a separatist droid stumbled into view, sparking, dragging one leg. 

You shot it clean through the processor. 

And then more. 

And more.

And more. 

The first shots rang out faster than expected. 

“L/n, cut off the canyon mouth!” Cody barked through the comms. 

“Already on it,” You said with clenched teeth. 

Blaster bolts sliced through the air around you. Droids were swarming. 

Dogma rolled beside you, “Ridge is clear!” 

You turned sharply to look and then a B2 battle droid breached through the rocks and opened fire. 

Immediately, you and Dogma turned to duck under a stone, blaster bolts leaving marks on said rock. 

You waited a couple seconds for the droid to automatically reload its bullets. As soon as you had the chance, you peered over and fired once –twice– at the centre of the droid. It collapsed onto the ground, dust flying as he fell. 

Dogma turned to you, “I-thanks, Commander.” You nodded at him. 

And then there was a flash of blue that tore through the smoke beside you. 

Anakin. 

It was hard to miss him, his saber blazing and his own armour now dusted red. His broad shoulders flexed with every movement. He effortlessly and confidently cut down droids in brutal strokes. 

He moved by instinct. Memory. Muscle. He deflected bullets like they were nothing and his saber kept swinging and spinning its own rhythmic dance. 

You couldn’t help but pause to watch. You hadn’t seen him fight like this since before Dev. And even then, you were beside him, not watching from the sidelines. 

He had a careless kind of confident look on his face. His presence burned and it was impossible to not feel it.

A stray bullet flew past your head, your ears rang as you duck. It immediately broke you out of your trance, and without thinking, you covered his flank. 

You continued this until the last droids began to fall. The tunnel network began to collapse itself under repeated pressure. You had watched both Anakin and Obi-wan sweep through the perimeter. 

Everything was quiet now. Rex moved past you, his shoulders brushing yours slightly. “Good work, Commander.” He said casually, trying to keep it normal. 

You shot him a small smile and a nod, “thanks.”

Cody knelt beside one of the wounded and talked quietly with him. 

You swung your blaster across your back. You still felt exposed. Your belt felt empty. Weightless. 

Cody then came up to you, his eyes measured but respectful. “I heard that the supply unit will move through this pass tomorrow now.” He nodded to you. “This mission’s a success.”

Sighing, you rubbed your eyes tiredly. “Good job, guys.” Your boots sunk in the hot Saleucami sand, leaving footprints behind. 

And then a crackle came in through the comms. 

“Everyone regroup at Point Bravo. Perimeter clear.” Anakin’s voice came out. 

Rex and the rest of the clones marched towards the rally point. Everyone’s tired. The hot air only makes it worse. Your feet dragged behind you and every minute that passed you would try to stifle a yawn. 

You could not wait to get out of this dreadful planet and scrub yourself clean. 

Obi-wan and Anakin were ahead now, chatting with Cody and Rex about the mission. You followed maybe ten paces behind them. Close enough that you could hear their boots shovelling against the ground but far enough that you would be forgotten. 

“I assume we will have the brief the Senate after this,” Obi-wan said, trying to lighten the weight, his hand running through his hair. 

Anakin nodded, “Padme was already pressing for details on the blockade before we left Coruscant.” 

You felt yourself stiffen at the mention of Padme. 

And then you felt something so small. Something nudging your sides. Something pulling you back. You stopped walking and your boot dragged along the sand. 

Something was here. Something was wrong. 

Biting your lip, you looked back at the craters formed during the battle. And then you turned your head towards the group that are now increasingly further away from you.

“I’m gonna quickly check something out,” you called out to Rex steadily, who now turned to look at you.

The squad slowed down and Obi-wan’s head lifted to look at you warily. Anakin straightened himself too, his hand instinctively brushed against his lightsaber, his eyebrows furrowed. 

He didn’t say anything and lips tightened. His body shifted and his boots ever so slightly moved —as if he wanted to go after you. 

Without a second thought, you turned your back on them and headed back to the ruins. Towards the force disturbance. 

Your blaster was raised and ready for anything that came. Your eyes squinted as you moved towards the left, behind some of the destruction, out of sight from the rest. 

You moved some more, allowing the Force to guide you. Further. 

It was like walking through a storm where you couldn’t see, you could just feel. Feel that something was wrong. 

Your heart was pounding against your chest and then—

Whrrrrrp

A hum of a lightsaber sliced out from the ruins and aimed for your head. You barely ducked as the crimson blade slashed the air where you had just been. 

“Arrgh!” You hit the ground hard on instinct, rolling through dust and dirt. 

And immediately you began to fire your blaster aimlessly, hoping that while you fell you landed a shot. The shots were deflected with little to no effort as the saber spinned through the smoke.

The attacker stepped into view, their body cloaked, but their face…

Master Sora Bulq.

Like he was twisted by the darkside. 

Sora’s blade readied to hit you but you fired again. 

One shot.

Two shots. 

Three shots. 

Four shots. 

And without fail, each shot was deflected with casual precision. Without warning, he struck down onto you. You dove sideways, your shoulder slamming into a rock and you shrieked in pain. 

You twisted, wanting to kick out his lightsaber from his hands without getting your arms impaled but he was faster, meaner. The hilt of his lightsaber slammed in your ribs sending you sprawling out on the floor, knocking the breath out of you.

You rolled and your blaster fell out of your hands, your hands scrambling through the dirt. 

Pain flared sharply underneath your armour as you tried to get away from the crimson of the lightsaber. 

Without a second thought, Master Bulq reached out with his hands and pushed you. The force flinging your body towards a boulder. Your head slammed against the rough surface. 

Thud

You couldn’t scream in pain. Your voice hoarse and all air escaping from your lungs. 

Your ears began to ring and the desert began to tilt. Light burst as your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment. You slumped. Gasping. The taste of blood in your mouth. And then something wet dripping down your forehead. 

Your fingers scraped uselessly at the ground, wanting to push but you couldn’t. They had barely moved. 

Your vision blurred and the force kept screaming at you. Your eyes fluttered, trying to keep them open. 

Then there was a violent shift in the force. A snap. A fit of rage. 

Without warning, two figures emerged from the dust with beams of light swinging with them. Anakin dove in, throwing his saber down with full force. 

You couldn’t move and your ribs screamed in pain. Your mouth agape as you try to take in small breaths, your head lulling to the side. 

Hits and more hits.

You couldn’t make out anything anymore. 

Their figures were blurry and you couldn’t hear anything past the ringing in your skull. You tried your hardest to stay awake, your body falling in and out of consciousness in lapse.

There were clashes and screams of laser on laser. Obi-wan threw his own arm up, pulling Bulq to the floor. His lightsaber fell from his hands and his body slumped. Anakin surged through, his saber raised to finish it. 

Something muffled. Like they were talking. Or screaming. You couldn’t hear anymore but Anakin was pulled back by Obi-wan. 

You couldn’t feel your shoulders or your arms. It was all numb. You fell out of consciousness. And then fell in. And out. And in. 

A figure rushed to your side, the weight of their feet made a crunchy sound on the ground. 

“Hey — hey.” Their voice, closer than expected. Rougher. 

He tried to lift you up without hurting you any further but you fell limp and tired. Your body fell forward and collapsed immediately onto his chest. 

Anakin’s.

His strong arms immediately wrapped around you before you fell past him. You tried to speak but your mouth fell open. The goddamn ringing wouldn’t go away and everything felt tipsy and blurry. 

“Got you,” he muttered, so soft that it could have just said it to reassure himself.

You let him carry you, lifting your body effortlessly and so tightly that he was scared you would slip past his hands. That you would leave him.

Anakin’s breaths came fast. 

His eyes darted across your bruised lips and the trickle of blood that fell down your forehead. His gloved hands cradled the back of your head. Your skin was burning and your armour was streaked with dirt and ash. 

“Y/n,” He said louder now, watching the way your eyes were looking at him but not seeing him. “Stay with me.” His throat was closing up and he could feel his eyes beginning to sting. 

“Anakin!” Obi-wan called out. “We need to move her to the med-bay now-”

“She’s not breathing right.” Anakin’s voice shook.. His own chest heaving and stray strands of hair fell onto his face. 

“She–she…her head…and..her ribs,” Anakin struggled to find the right words. 

“We will lose her if we don’t move now.”

He couldn’t lose you. Not like he lost his mother. You were right here in his arms and he wouldn’t let you go away. 

Anakin moved fast, faster than he had ever did before. 

The hum of the ship faded into static. You weren’t sure what had happened. When the medics had begun to work on you, the cold bacta gel against your ribs. Or when Anakin had finally let go.

If he did at all. 

The world blurred. And you found yourself being pulled in. Pulled into a flicker.

A moment straight from the force.

--- --- --- --- --- ---

You were seventeen again. 

Right before the war had begun and you were just two padawans 

Smiling into your pillow late at night. The temple humming with cool ambience.

Anakin had snuck into your quarters, again. You felt his hands combing through your hair, so gently. Sometimes he would braid little pieces, and they would fall out during missions. 

You moved until your forehead pressed against his collarbone, your lips ghosting just above his skin. 

“I wish we could be together. For real.” Your voice came out, barely a whisper. 

“We are for real,” he murmured, fingers still threading through your locks. 

“Mhmm,” you hummed, planting a kiss on his neck. Anakin felt a smile growing on his face, his fingers now moved to tuck the hair behind your ear. He then leaned forward, and kissed your temple once. 

You didn’t say anything, pulling back enough just to see his eyes. His amber eyes that scanned your face in love, taking in every feature of yours, his fingers caressing the parts he just gazed at. 

You missed this. Missed him. 

Your body twitched. 

And then your monitor spiked. 

--- --- --- --- --- ---

Eyes fluttering open against the blinding medbay lights, you groaned quietly. You felt your scalp tingling and your sore limbs on the bed. 

There were bandages wrapped around your torso and some on your head. Your armour was gone and you were in a medical robe. It was hard to ignore just how useless you felt.

Your first mission back and you were already injured on the bed. You couldn’t blame yourself, really. You had a blaster and he had a lightsaber.

Beside you, on the chair, was Anakin. His chair was far too close than you liked. You were less than an arm's reach away from him. His clenched hands were wrapped around his body, his eyes closed with a tired but hard expression on his face. 

You didn’t know what to say, if you should call out to him or ignore him. 

But the force had other plans. It shifted the air in the room, causing Anakin to cautiously open his eyes, his gaze meeting yours. 

Anakin’s mouth fell slightly agape, surprised that you had woken up. He cleared his throat, wanting to find the right words to say. 

“I…” His voice came out low. 

“How are you feeling?” He came up with. 

You didn’t know what to say. There was a right between you and Anakin. Ever since the meeting, it had only gotten worse and the last person you wanted to wake up to was him. 

“Fine.” You hoarsely said. Your voice clearly hasn’t been used for however long it was you were in here. 

Anakin nodded, inhaling deeply to calm him down. 

“You had a pretty bad concussion.” He revealed, “If he had pushed you any harder…you might not have made it.” 

You stayed silent, letting the words settle in the room. Your hands absently minded rubbed the bandages, feeling the fabric in between your fingers. 

“You were out for a day...Mast-” He cut himself off. “-Sora has already been handled by the council.” 

You still said nothing. You didn’t want Anakin to be one to explain these things to you. You wanted Obi-wan maybe, or no one. Just not Anakin.

Anakin felt the tension in the room and gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. 

And then finally, like he was debating against it, he spoke up again. 

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” 

The words hung in the air, his voice rough and apologetic. Seeing you on the floor, your body exhausted and on the brink of death. Seeing someone's lightsaber aimed at you to kill you. It changed something inside of him. He wouldn't lose you like his mother. As he waited in the medbay for you to wake, he swore he wouldn't let himself get angry again at you. He swore he would apologise and try to fix your relationship with him.

He shifted awkwardly, his boots scuffing against the tiles. 

“Back at the briefing,” his voice lowered. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I was hurt. I was angry and I didn’t mean to-” 

“Angry about what?” You scoffed, a look of disbelief on your face. “You were the one who came arguing with me at the temple.” 

Anakin was taken back by the sharpness in your voice. 

“Dev told me.” His eyebrows furrowed. 

You shook your head confused. “Told you what?” 

“He told me that you listened to my messages.” Anakin said. “For the entire year.” 

You flinched.

“And you didn’t respond.” Anakin’s voice grew louder but he tried to maintain his composure. 

You laughed in disbelief, tears began to prick your eyes. He had no idea. He really had no faith in you that he believed you would not answer him. That you didn’t care. 

“You really think I didn’t try?” Your voice broke, water began to visibly well up in your eyes that Anakin felt his stomach twist in guilt. 

“I was trying, Anakin. The stupid device broke and I couldn’t relay any messages back.” Your voice cracked. 

“Y/n…” 

Your chest was screaming in protest under the bandages as you felt your back straighten, but you ignored it. 

“You keep doing this, Anakin!” You said, your voice rising. “Over and over!” Tears began to stream down your face, blurring your vision. You couldn’t take it anymore. Even after all the shit you have been through, he had no faith. Even while you were in the med bay bed, there was no comfort. Nothing. 

Anakin felt your words hit him harder than any wound he had taken in battle. He watched your body tremble under pure exhaustion and betrayal. 

“Y/n, please.” Anakin extended his hand, trying to reach out to you but you jerked back like his touch was fire. And that broke something inside of him. He had hurt you to the point where you wouldn’t even let him touch you. 

“And Padme?”

“Padme?” Anakin furrowed his eyebrows. 

“You think it doesn’t hurt me when I see you close to her?” Your voice broke. “I used to come to you when we were together,” You pointed a finger at him. “I told you I was scared. I told you she liked you!”

Anakin’s mouth parted, stunned. “There’s nothing going on between me and Padme.” His voice was fast, not defensive but scared. Like he needed to say it before you could turn away. 

You blinked. You didn’t trust him like you used to. 

“You think I would’ve came running to you the second you fell?” Anakin’s throat began to close up. “I would have left your side as soon as I knew you were safe in the medbay. I would have left for the mission briefing like I was supposed to.” 

He swallowed. 

“It was always you.”

And then quieter. 

“It’s still you.”

You weren’t crying about your injuries or the battle. You were crying because of him. Because of what he had done to you. And he hated watching you unfold like this in front of him.

Tears began to sting his own eyes —fast and hot. 

“I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I didn’t know you tried—” 

“I did everything I could,” you sobbed. “I was so alone, Anakin.” Your voice cracked.

“And all i wanted —all i wanted— was for you to believe in me when I came back.” You choked out, the palm of your hands aggressively trying to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He looked down in guilt, his hair falling above his eyes, hiding them. 

“I know I went too far! It’s just that–” his hands clenched, “-just something inside me — snapped.”

You shook your head, slow and exhausted. “Sometimes I don’t know who’s in there.” 

“But Y/n—” 

“I-I just…can’t do this anymore, Anakin.” You couldn’t stop crying now, your hands trembling. 

Anakin pressed both his hands to his face and dragged them down. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. His mistakes crushing him from the inside. 

“I’ll fix this,” he said. “I swear to the Force, I’ll fix it.” 

“I don’t want you to fix this,” You gasped in another sob. “I just wanted you there.” You wanted him to help you, support you and comfort you all those times the Council spoke to you like you were nothing. 

You didn’t want him to ignore you and in anger and rage. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. For all of it.”

Anakin didn’t speak again. He didn’t have anything else to say. He stood up to leave, his hands shaking and his heartbroken.

He finally understood just how badly he had lost you. 

A/n: SRRY IT WAS A LITTLE LATE ive just been stuck with Uni labs all week </3 ALSOOO I REACHED 2K FOLLOWERS thxs so much yall im loving this little community on here genuinely i get so happy reading all ur asks and comments.

Taglist: @endairachristensen26 @hayden-christensen-verse @ducks118 @seventeen-x @movingalongthekiwi @ssnapsaurus @caramelfondu @dayrin085 @devilslittlehelper @f1wh0recom @green-lxght @bettysgardenswift @heyitsbeeeb @user-3113s-blog @fandomhoe101 @veronaspencil @zudooms @hiphopdancer101universe @starfire21 @devotedlypaleluminary @miksxz @lacherrysouldy @lotushzl @biddycums @wandasblacknails @moonixlity @icanmeltanigloo @isntthatsweetiguessso

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also can we talk about how kendrick absolutely devoured and did so wearing those bootcut jeans, DIVA

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𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞

word count: 6.5k

summary: On September 1st, 1971 you were sorted into Slytherin, putting you on the map as the first Potter to do so, and the first time James Potter turned his back on someone he claimed he loved dearly. You’re slowly drifting away, turning the Potter twins into a sad tale, but after one deadly incident close to Christmas break, James decides to put an end to the distance he unknowingly created. 

How can you say that you love someone you can’t tell is dying? 

cw: suicidal ideation, but hinted. scars and blood mention, nosebleed. angst, very heavy on the angst. potter!reader, fem!reader. platonic marauders and rosier twins. background jily.

a/n: sorry if this too much… just had this idea for a while and i needed an outlet. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! xx 

···

You sighed, the bandage around your shoulder suffocating you to the point of tears. As much as you tried, you wanted to keep your compartment warm and toasty with the blanket over your seat and legs, but your efforts were in vain at the mere lack of human heat. The fogged window seemed an acceptable distraction as you dragged your window around, drawing meaningless doodles as the train passed by beautiful landscapes you barely registered. 

Something shifted on your other side, and you turned to find people walking past your compartment, pointing and whispering about you and your sad state. None of them dared to open the door, making the lump in your throat grow with each breath you took. You looked down at the cassette player in your lap, hands too shaky to change the cassette into something more cheerful.

In time, you looked up to find a pair of brown eyes staring at you with both curiosity and pity, you frowned, desperately wishing your brother’s friends would stop pestering you. Their mere presence was a bitter reminder of your brother's abandonment, the pain you suffered seeing them fill your place, share laughter together like you both did many years ago. You looked away, luckily for you, Remus got the signal and made to move past the compartment; but to Remus’ ill luck, James followed his gaze and opened the door.

“Mum said Dad won’t be able to come, but will be waiting for us at the Manor.” He murmured, his eyes pointedly trying to not stare too hard at the bandages peeking through your jumper. You nodded. “She will meet us at the station.”

“Okay,” You said, not moving to take your headphones off, nor to look at him to meet his gaze. You feared you would cry if you looked at him, a reminder of the despair in his eyes when they brought you into the infirmary. “I knew that, you know we still write to each other, right?”

James nodded quickly, swallowing hard at your voice devoid of emotion. “Yeah, just… Just wanted to make sure,” He paused, quickly stepping in to fully enter and close the door behind him. You finally turned your head to him with surprise. “You alright?”

You scoffed, finally taking your headphones off your ears, “What do you think, James?” This time, he has no qualms about studying you completely, eyes skimming over your poor posture as a result of the accident. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes, your blood boiled as you spat. “Yes, I’m fine. Will that be all, or…?”

James closed his mouth and schooled his face, something desperately needing to be said. You bit your lip, your insides filling with regret but having no intention of backing away from the incoming disagreement. Something in you stirred with hope, hope that he would finally give you your place and sit with you. However, the bespectacled boy simply nodded and left the compartment. 

You let out a breath, disbelief and disappointment in your heart as you placed the headphones back in your head. A tear slowly rolled down your cheek and you quickly cleaned it, your shaky hand almost poking your eye as you desperately tried to swallow the possible panic attack you felt looming over you. The countless letters addressed to you from your mother heavy on your satchel, most of them asking you to fix your relationship with James, the other begging you to take care of yourself, you weren’t sure which ones hurt the most. 

The moment the word Sectumsempra left Snape’s mouth, a curse filled with magic so dark not even the boy could understand it, you almost felt bad for the relief you felt in your chest at the pain that took over your body. That morning still felt like a far away memory, a dream that shook you up so much you still recalled after you woke up; McGonagall’s surprised gasp and the students that were unfortunate enough to witness the moment your fellow housemate almost made you cut into pieces. You were brought up in a rush to the infirmary where your brother and his friends recovered from a rather violent full moon, James had almost passed out at the pure rage he felt when he was informed of the situation. You weren’t proud to admit that your brother being angry on your behalf was a nice memory to die with, a redemption that came almost too late. 

You weren’t even prouder to admit to the sinking feeling in your chest when you woke up to find nothing had changed, the only remains that someone still cared about you in the form of Madam Pomfrey’s gentle touches. James hadn’t stayed back to check on you, and you couldn’t blame him. To that day, you couldn’t fully stare at your reflection in the mirror without your eyes filling with tears, had it not been for Pandora, promoted to friend as of lately, you wouldn’t have been able to even put the healing potions in your scars. 

Just in time, three knocks came at the door, you turned, ready to yell at your brother or his friends to fuck off, but Pandora’s gentle smile made you pause. She pointed at the seat across from you, cold and empty, and you nodded dumbly. She stepped in, arms filled with sweets from the trolley and smiled at you as she made herself comfortable in the seat. 

“Hi, how are you feeling?”

Why is everyone asking me that?, you thought bitterly. Immediately feeling regretful when Pandora presented you with a Chocolate Frog. 

“I’m okay,” you murmured, shyly taking the sweet from her hand. She had a different color in each of her nails, you noted. “Thank you.”

Her platinum white locks fell to her shoulder as she sat back, her own Chocolate Frog in her hand. She smiled at you and picked her book, and you wanted to cry tears of happiness. Comfortable silences were Pandora’s main form of love language, you quickly learned, and you were eternally grateful for the company. You weren’t sure if you had it in you to put up with your self hatred for another moment, let alone the rest of the train ride.

You looked up from your cassette case, eyes lingering a beat too long on the compartment door. 

“He’s two compartments over,” She said breezily, noticing the hesitance in your movements. “I passed them on my way here, he seems gutted.”

“Oh, please,” You made a scoffing sound, your shaky hand struggling to take a new cassette off its box. “He just feels bad for me, but he’s going to do absolutely nothing about it.” You poked your cheek with your tongue, satisfied when you finally got the cassette out. 

“Have you thought that maybe,” Pandora started to say, fully closing her book now that she had your undivided attention, “maybe… he thinks it’s too late? You have been a bit too cold to him…”

“It’s the least he deserves,” You spat, then cleared your throat. If Pandora felt offended at your anger, she didn’t show, she never did. You looked back to the window, feeling the train had noticeably slowed down. “I just… I’m so tired of waiting for him, I don’t… I don’t know how to feel, I so badly wanted him to get close but now that he’s trying I don’t…” To your utter horror, you felt tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “I’m so confused.”

Pandora’s lips curled in an empathetic smile, she reached and held your shaky hand, gently sweeping her thumb across your knuckles, you took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself as students began to empty the train. 

“I’m sorry,” You dared to meet her heterochromic eyes. 

She shook her head, chuckling quietly. “No need to be sorry, keeping those feelings bottled up must be so tiring, I’m sure.” You laughed weakly, and used your free hand to discretely clean your cheeks. “You might’ve accepted your loneliness a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean it has to be permanent, sweet girl. Evan would agree, though he’s more shy to actually say it. You got more people in your corner than you realize, only if you let them…” She turned to the door, and you followed her gaze where you found James and Sirius walking past with a troubling look in their eyes. Pandora stood up, “You need help with your trunk?”

You opened your mouth, but were interrupted by the door opening. “Ready to go?” Sirius asked, and you frowned.

“I can carry it, thank you.” You smiled at Pandora, pointedly ignoring his question. She nodded, and reached to give you a quick hug, gentle and careful to not hurt you. “I’ll see you next term.”

“Write me?” She smiled, passing you a small box and you nodded, eyes in a daze as you tried to read the note. She walked to the door, and smiled at both boys. “Happy christmas.” 

You watched her go, shaky hand still holding the box. James frowned, and studied you for a few more seconds before Sirius, who wanted to leave the station immediately before his parents would show up to drag him and Regulus away, cleared his throat rather loudly. 

“Are you ready to go?” He repeated, making a move to take your trunk but you swiftly picked it up. Your features a mix of anger and, if he had more time to look at you, he would also find pain. “Don’t be stubborn, I can take that.”

“I can take my own trunk, Sirius. But thank you.” You spat, then turned away from both boys. “I’ll meet you in the platform in a moment, let me just put everything away.” You pointed to your little cocoon, the blanket and cassette player tossed aside in your previous vacated seat. “Just remember to—”

“To not tell Mum anything,” Finished James for you, an edge to his voice. “We know.”

You nodded, fear settling in your chest at the prospect of your brother picking up the argument you had nights before. Him begging you to tell your parents about what happened with Snape, to prepare them for your almost deadly state, but you met him head on, not willing to back down until he dropped the matter. He had walked away mid argument, his friends staring at you both with something akin to sadness, watching the distance grow impossibly longer despite James’ recent efforts to fix it. You had cried that night in Pandora’s arms as she and her brother watched you with both sadness and regret, you, for your part, seemed blind to the fact that they had been the reason James had breached that subject with you.

The bespectacled boy nodded, and stepped out of the compartment with Sirius close behind. You took the cassette player and put the headphones back on, Billy Joel’s Piano Man a fitting soundtrack to the way you felt. You took your satchel and hurriedly put the messily folded blanket inside, made an assesment of the compartment to not leave anything behind and silently walked out of the compartment towards the platform.

You watched with a sinking feeling as your mother enthusiastically greeted James, grabbing him by his cheeks and showering him with kisses, Sirius and the rest of his friends in line to receive the same treatment. He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me, Billy Joel sang in your ears and you readily agreed, walking towards the bunch with a tiny smile and your insides filled with dread. 

Euphemia Potter’s bright smile dimmed when she met your eyes, and noted the sadness that, evident to everyone but you, radiated off your body as you placed your headphones around your neck. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, your brother and his friends watching the exchange nervously, as she practically balanced herself over you in a tight hug.

“My lovely girl,” You were horrified to almost hear her voice breaking, the least you wanted was your mother to worry for you. “How I missed you, oh, look at you.”

“Hi, mum…” You muttered, bitting your lip as she accidentally squeezed precisely around your middle, where your most painful scar was located. “Missed you too, Dad too, of course.” You patted her back awkwardly and she pulled back.

“You’re so small, oh, my girl, please be honest with me,” She grabbed your cheeks the same way she did to James, and you successfully swallowed the lump in your throat. “Have you been eating properly? I knew that veganism nonsense simply  wouldn’t do.”

Her eyes studied you much like James did earlier, and you bit your lip nervously. You knew what was coming, and you wanted to take off and disappear from her searching eyes.

“I’m actually quite hungry…” You said quietly, hoping it would be enough to distract her. 

Your mother, however, couldn’t be deterred. “What happened here?”

Unconsciously, you met James’ eyes. “Quiddtich accident.” You replied quickly, the lie easily slipping past your lips. “Fell off my broom, doesn’t hurt, though. I’m okay.”

“Quidditch!” She exclaimed, chuckling as she turned to James who smiled in return to avoid giving you away. “Honestly, what is it with my children and Quidditch? Can’t wait to see your dad’s face— Speaking of! He must be driving himself mad waiting for us! Come, come! Dear, you need help with your trunk?”

“I’m okay—” You replied and she quickly turned to shepherd everyone out of the plaform. 

“Here,” Remus walked to you, taking the handle from your shaky hand, hard to notice to the blind eye, but he knew better, he was familiar. You frowned, and he made his voice extra quiet as he spoke, “I know you can manage but you’re going to make them worse, and by the time we get to the manor everyone will notice. It’s no problem, really.”

You stared at him, then at James who pretended to listen as Sirius and your mother fussed over Regulus, who would join you for the first time for the holidays. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and you forced yourself to look back at Remus, he smiled kindly as you nodded mutely and trailed behind the group. A comfortable silence falling between you both.

—

Potter manor seemed to stay stuck in time, with its beautiful pillars and big stained glass windows letting in colorful rays of sunshine when the english countryside allowed it. You looked through the window at your mother’s lovely garden she devoted herself to during springtime, surely to kill time when your dad was busy at work and her children away at school, her caring nature evident in the way all the flowers grew beautifully, despite the current cold weather. You sighed, and walked away ready to face your hideous fate, your secret stash of healing potions and your scars ready to be tended to.

You stopped short in front of your bed, Pandora’s present small in contrast to your belongings sprawled all over your bedding. It had her touch all over the decoration, even if the card claimed it was from both Rosier twins, the silver bow and colorful wrapping paper showing her peculiar taste. Your shaky hand hovered over the ribbon and gently tugged it to open the box, where you found a pretty aquamarine necklace along with a soft pair of green knitted mittens sitting neatly enveloped by tissue paper. You smiled and wasted no time to try and put the necklace around your neck, ignoring the fact that your shaky hands would make the task nearly impossible. 

You were about to throw the necklace across the room in desperation when you heard a light knock on the door. 

“Yes?” You managed to speak out, a sob begging to leave your lips. There was silence on the other side and you briefly wondered if you imagined the whole thing. “What?”

“Can I come in?” Sirius said quietly, and you frowned, but replied a quiet yes before turning your back to the door. “Hi,” He said as he stepped in, careful in his movements.

“Hi,” You echoed quietly, looking around the room to avoid meeting his eyes. 

Sirius stared at the necklace in your hand and the discarded box in the other, “Need help with that?���

“I’m okay,” You followed his gaze and shook your head, knowing well it was a losing battle with the piece of jewelry. “I was just untangling it,” You said, barely believing it, and by his face, Sirius didn’t seem to believe you, either.

He stepped closer to you, his movements more confident. “Let me help you,” You opened your mouth to protest, but ended up handing him the necklace, knowing it was a losting battle arguing with him, too. “Stubborn thing you are, trying to put on this tiny necklace when your hands are shaking like a leaf.” He pointed as he stood behind you.

A silence followed, and you stared down at your hands, suddenly insecure in the way they trembled, another souvenir from your fellow housemate’s attack. 

“I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

“They’re not very noticeable,” He allowed, gently tugging your shoulders to make you face him. “But sadly, love, I am very familiar with these kinds of things.” His grey eyes pointedly looked at the blood dots peeking through your bandages from your jumper. “I would change those before supper if I were you.”

You swallowed and nodded, “Thank you. Is this why you came here? Is the food ready?”

He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it, and nodded his head. “Yes, um… Mum told me she made you some of your vegan requests.”

“Oh,” You frowned, and he chuckled quietly at the surprise in your face. “I’ll be down in a moment… I have to…”

“I know,” He nodded, then made to walk out the door but paused on the threshold, turning to face you once again. “You know… James, he’s really trying, it’s just… He doesn’t know how to reach out.”

A beat. 

“Was it hard for you? To reach out to Regulus? After everything?”

He seemed to be taken aback with your question, frowning and very clearly about to tell you to mind your sodding business, but then his eyes got a very sad look that you despised. You both dreaded and hoped for his answer.

“It was difficult, yes, but because of the way we were raised, not because there wasn’t love, it was just very tangled with other things, confusion, anger and resentment… But the love persevered. I think… I think that’s what made it bearable, that at the end of the day we loved each other despite everything.”

You nodded, visibly not satisfied with his answer. “I get that, but… you said it yourself, it was hard because of the way you were raised so… what is stopping James?”

Sirius seemed pretty close to tears himself, feeling for you and frustrated at the way James acted. Honestly not even himself could explain the way James handled everything since you both were sorted, admittedly he hadn’t known him long enough back then to be confused by the evident indifference towards you, but as he grew to know you both, that confusion grew in significance. It couldn’t have been the same James that offered him his home without thinking twice when he learned the hell that was Grimmauld Place, it was hard for Sirius to think that James held some resentment towards his sister for being sorted into Slytherin when he himself despised Sirius’ parents for disowning him for being a Gryffindor. You didn’t seem to be particularly fond of the pureblood supremacy ideologies your house held, either; keeping to yourself and to your friends, the Rosier twins and occasionally Regulus as of lately, and the gentle way you carried yourself through the hallways. He often wondered if the Sorting Hat had made a mistake. 

“I… I don’t know, sweetheart,” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, I don’t think this is a conversation for me to participate in.” 

“It’s alright,” You nodded, once again swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’ll be down in a minute.” You said before marching towards your bathroom, pointedly closing the door behind you. 

Sirius sighed, feeling very angry at himself for the way he managed to mess it all up in a matter of seconds. A hand squeezed his shoulder and he turned his face to meet both Remus and his brother’s sad eyes, he shrugged sadly and closed the door to your room quietly. A few seconds later, Lily walked out of her own room, immediately taking notice of the three boys sadly staring at your door and ushered them all to the dinning room, a sad look in her own eyes as she pointedly tried to ignore the knot in her stomach. 

—

You stared blankly at a spot next to your father‘s face as you pretended to listen to his very heated debate with James about where should the next Quidditch Cup be. The food long gone and conversations passed in a daze as you ate supper and managed to participate here and there and answer the questions directed to you. You unconsciously thumbed the precious gemstone resting in your chest, the repetitive action helped you make the shakiness in your hands less evident. 

You sat in a wingback chair, making a cocoon of yourself as you watched your brother and his friends happily chatting away to different topics, you watched as he occasionally grabbed Lily’s hand and kissed it, or the way he reached over his girlfriend to shove Sirius’ shoulder, mischief glistening behind his glasses. You knew you were being a killjoy, your pain almost an imposition in their delightful conversation had they noticed, if they ever did, or let them notice, you bitterly thought. 

“Oh, darling,” Suddenly you had a handkerchief shoved to your nose. You frowned, but let your mother’s hand cradle your face back. “You almost stained your jumper,” Horrified, you noticed that your nose was bleeding, a common occurrence since the incident. 

“Sorry,” You mumbled, trying to look away from her eyes, slowly filling with worry. “Don’t know what happened there, strange.”

“Good thing your mum has good reflexes,” your dad pointed, chuckling and blissfully unaware of the sudden tension in the room. “Growing up with you lot gave her reflexes of steel, she would’ve been a killer Seeker.”

“Let that go, honey,” Your mum added distractly, looking into your eyes, searching for… what? You were not sure, but her scrutiny made you nervous. “Are you okay?”

You inhaled deeply, suddenly feeling very warm. “Yes, I can take it, mum–” You made to raise your hand to take the handkerchief from her, her eyes falling on your hands.

“Are you cold?”

“What? No. I’m fine.”

“But you’re shaking.” She argued, and you found yourself slowly losing your patience at her questioning. “Are you sure you’re—”

“Can everyone stop asking me that? I said I’m fine.” You spat, shocking everyone into silence, even yourself. “Sorry, I… I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, I…Yes, I’m alright.”

Somewhere from the floor came a scoff and you felt dread recoiling around your ribcage. You lowered the handkerchief from your face to see James dryly chuckling at you, his hazel eyes holding a fire that was only reserved for… Horrified, you realized he was about to tell your parents everything. 

“James,” You whispered, pleading with your eyes to force him to take a step back. But your brother seemed done covering for you. “Please don’t.”

“James?” Your mother turned to him, who in return stood up from his spot on the floor, Lily reached out to pull him down again. “Is anyone going to fill me in as to what’s gotten into you both?”

He stared hard at you, then, “She was attacked.” 

And just as the words slipped past his lips, chaos ensued with your parents, neither of them expecting those words to leave James’ lips. The air was sucked out of your lungs, and you reached to press the heel of your hand to your sternum, as if that would help your lungs accept the air you desperately seeked. You were not sure where you got the strength, but you marched towards him, betrayal in your eyes. 

“You have no right,” You sneered, meeting his stormy gaze, he looked down at you, both your bodies pulsating with unresolved anger. “You promised!”

“I did not promise a damn thing to you. You’re my sister, and I cannot simply sit back and watch you fade away from us, can I?”

You scoffed. “It didn’t stop you before, hasn’t it?” He stepped back, as if your words alone had slapped him across his face. Your parents watched the scene with horror. “You’re my sister, you’re a liar. You made it very clear I am very much not your sister, James. In fact, I think you made it very clear to everyone that anyone can be accepted into your fucking marauders club except me.” 

“Wait, so this is why you’re so miffed with me? Because I didn’t let you in the Marauders?” James had the nerve to laugh, and you stared at him in shock. “You have officially lost the plot, grow up, I beg you.”

“James!”

“No, James,” You met him head on, stom in your eyes as you tried to find your words. “Contrary to what your ego-driven mind might think, not everyone wants to be part of your glorified freak show.” You said, not at all regretting the venom in your voice. “You left me. You… you don’t even try, you think that just because you fought for me, breaking Snape’s nose, everything would be forgiven?”

“Look at what he did to you!” He pointed, squirming a finger inside the neckline of your jumper, pulling down to show everyone the bandage in your shoulder. You slapped his hand away with anger, but he grabbed your hand and raised it for everyone to see. “You can barely function with these shakes, look, you can barely put on a necklace!”

“James, stop,” Came Remus’ stern voice from somewhere in the room. 

At this, your glossy eyes turned to Sirius, who, until that moment, had managed to sit back calmly and not let the whole ordeal get to him. He looked away as your betrayal was evident in your eyes.

“That wasn’t for you to tell, Sirius.” You said to him quietly, anger barely contained.

“Well, I, for one, am glad he told me. You could’ve gone the entire break hiding it from us had it not been for Sirius.”

“Like hiding it is such a hard task.” You snapped. “You barely notice my presence let alone a silly shake in my hands. I could’ve died that day and you wouldn’t have noticed at all, James.”

“You damn right could’ve bloody died! Go on, show them,” He stepped closer, and you barely registered his intention until it was too late. 

With the help of his reflexes, you were a beat too late to stop him from lifting the hem of your jumper, exposing some of the fully healed scars in your stomach, the biggest one cutting through your navel in a nasty gash. Your mother gasped and her eyes filled with tears immediately, your father stared in shock, despair evident in his eyes. You pushed James away with all the strength you could muster, accidentally pushing your mother in the process, and pulled your jumper back down. 

“You’re a complete, utter, dickhead, James.” You stared at him in shock, so did everyone in the room. “Fuck you, seriously, fuck you.”

“Darling,” Your mother stepped to you, but you were too mortified to even accept her hug. “How long… How did this…” She seemed desperately finding the right words to go, but a sob left her lips instead. You finally allowed the tears in your eyes to trail down your cheeks. “Why didn’t you say?”

“What would I even say?” You said desperately in between shallow breaths, your usually calm demeanor breaking. “That I was so depressed I riled him up so he could hurt me? That I didn’t even fight back? How was I supposed to explain that, mum? Tell me,” Before you could even process it, the feelings you had bottled up for months seemed to be done being held back in your chest. You chuckled humorlessly, “How would that conversation even go? That I’m so miserable, though I have no reason to be, that I walked towards the one person who would surely hurt me and enjoy it? This, exactly, is why I didn’t say. But here comes bloody James Potter who has to be everyone’s fucking hero! Are you happy now, James? Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to thank you in front of everyone that you saved my honor by hurting Snape? Well, there you go. Now leave me the fuck alone.”

Had you been less blinded by your anger, you probably would’ve waited for anyone to speak, or at last apologize for the amount of curse words you managed to say in a span of 20 seconds, but you simply exhaled deeply and stormed off towards your room, where you surely would spend the rest of your days crying away in embarrassment at the situation. Your tears fell hot and fast as you slammed the door behind you and sat on your bed, ignoring the stinging sensation in your shoulder by your harsh movements. Your hands shook impossibly harder to the point of actual pain in your joints, and pressed your face to your hands as you cried hard. Your sobs loud enough to drown the chaos from downstairs, your own doing, you thought angrily. 

The door to your room opened, your brain too shaken up and confused, you opened your mouth to speak but a pained sob left your lips instead. Remus’ brows pinched with sadness as he walked to you, your disheveled hair, tear streaken cheeks and the dried trail of blood down your nose an exact mirror of your inner turmoil. He stepped closer and stretched his arms out, an open invitation in case you didn’t want to be touched, but you desperately needed something or someone to ground you before you could definitely reach a full blown breakdown. A breakdown days in the making.

“You’re okay,” He said as you stepped into his arms. He carefully caged you in, keeping you secure as you felt your chest shreding to pieces as you let out sob after sob. “No one is mad at you, we’re not, I promise you, not your mum, not your dad, no one. You’re okay.” He whispered, close to tears himself. 

Soon, you felt a hand rubbing your back carefully, then, Lily’s gentle voice spoke, “Take deep breaths, honey,” 

“I… I can’t,” You scraped out, voice raspy and worn out. “I…”

“Do it with me,” She instructed, and you pulled away from your hideaway to meet her gaze. Lily smiled sadly as she gently grabbed your hand and raised it to her own chest, where you felt her own heart beating, “Follow me, okay? You can.”

You inhaled and exhaled deeply, and she did it with you. As she busied you with breathing exercises, Remus walked to your bathroom to grab a cloth and damp it with warm water, when he walked back to your room, you seemed visibly calmer. He silently passed the cloth to Lily and sat beside you on the bed, she looked into your eyes and gently pressed it to your lips and under your nose, no-doubtedly cleaning the blood and snot off your face. None of you dared to speak, the only sound in the room the occasional hiccup leaving your lips, the fight leaving you tired and numb.

“I don’t know what crossed his mind to do that,” Began Lily, pointedly keeping her voice monotone to not spark another collapse from you. “That was very…”

“Barbaric?” Remus supplied, him not trying to keep his anger away from his tone. Lily frowned at him. 

“Unlike him.” She said, then turned to you. “What he said, what he did… That was very cruel.”

“Yeah, well… I seem to always bring out the cruelest parts of him.” You finally spoke, and she hushed you to not strain your voice more. 

“I think he’s very angry at himself, and he stupidly managed to show it in the worst way possible.” Remus pointed, the fight leaving his body as he gingerly placed a loose hair behind your ear. “It was very obvious to everyone that you were struggling but it passed right above him…”

“He didn’t need to make such a spectacle of himself though, and me. We could’ve talked it, if he had asked.”

Both Remus and Lily gave you a deadpan look. 

“Okay, maybe not at first but why is it always me the one that has to reach out? I’m tired of embarrassing myself seeking for his attention.” 

“You’re right,” The three of you looked up to find James standing at the threshold of your bedroom, a mix of feelings displayed in his face, regret being the most evident. “And I’m sorry.”

Lily looked at you, and you met her green eyes. She frowned, are you sure? Her eyes asked, and you nodded, grabbing the cloth from her hand. Both stood up and walked to leave, Lily ignoring the pleading look from her boyfriend as she closed the door behind her. The room fell eerily quiet as you stared at each other, assessing your stances. 

“I’m sorry.”

“So you’ve said,” You mumbled, looking down at the cloth in your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, as he walked closer, you tensed immediately and something inside his chest cracked. “I shouldn’t have… I… It wasn’t my place.”

You closed your eyes, succumbing to the tears forming in your eyes and brought the cloth to clean your cheeks. 

“I told you to not say anything, James. Why didn’t you listen? I… I don’t want mum or dad to get in between our mess.”

“Our mess,” He echoed, sitting next to you on the bed when you showed no signs of backing away again. “I did make a mess of everything, didn’t I?”

“It has always been, I was just the only one willing to see it as that.”

James frowned. “That’s not true.” He exhaled deeply, searching for your eyes. “I… I know I haven’t been the best brother to you but, but I wouldn’t say it reached a point where you feel like you can’t tell me anything.” 

“James,” You chuckled dryly, not even trying to argue again but to get him to see where you were coming from. “You don’t even acknowledge me back at school, you practically pretend I don’t exist.”

“I’m sorry.”

“See, you keep saying that, but I don’t hear reasons why I should forgive you.” 

“You shouldn’t forgive me, angel. In fact, what happened downstairs is the least punishment imaginable you could throw at me.” His chest filled with hope when you chuckled wetly. “I just… When I saw you in that cot, bleeding out and barely conscious, I felt like a part of me was being torn away… I had never felt so helpless in my life, knowing you would be taken away from me that easily and that I never tried to reach out? It’s been eating me alive, especially when you have been so calm about it, now I know why,”

You looked away, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t know why I said it.”

“See, I think you did mean it. And it’s okay,” James scooted closer, his hand reached to yours in question, you placed it over his. He squeezed it four times, and you smiled despite the sadness in your heart. The mighty Potter duo, your own way of consoling each other when you were children. “Just, let me try again? Be a brother?”

“You never stopped being my brother, James, not to me.”

“To me neither, I’m still your brother, even if I haven’t shown it how you deserve it. But,” He paused, searching for your eyes, “Promise me that you’ll stop drifting away, that you’ll be in a distance where I can reach you.”

You swallowed, but nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to have it get this bad, I just, I just wanted you to notice me.” Something inside you broke, and so did your voice. Thankfully, you were close enough for James to reach over and hug you gently. “I didn’t realize you wanted to talk to me, or… or get closer. I’m sorry, I’ll stay close. I promise.” You whispered, and reached out to squeeze his hand, four times. 

“I hope you can forgive me for what happened downstairs, too… I don’t… I just got so angry at myself, and… and you, but I shouldn’t have aired your pain like that.” He spoke after a long silence, voice barely contained as he fought back his own sob, not because he didn’t want to cry, but to get his feelings known. “It’s okay if it takes a while, too, I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and I regret it… I do.” I regret everything I did, it’s the bit he didn’t say, but you heard it clear in the pain in his voice.

You nodded, feeling satisfied with the heart to heart, “It might take a while, but thank you.” You dropped your head on his shoulder, and closed your eyes, finally letting your body relax against your brother. 

Your brother, who was there, willingly, hugging you. It was a nice feeling to fall asleep to, you thought as you drifted off. James looked down as your head got heavier, and noticed in your parted lips that you had fallen asleep at some point of your shared silence. He smiled, and helped you get fully into the bed, carefully placing your belongings away. 

He made to leave, but you pulled him back, your voice heavy with sleep, “Stay?”

And James, even in his drowsy state, couldn’t fight back the happiness he felt in his heart. He nodded, though you couldn’t see him, and laid next to you, your hands clasped together as you both drifted away holding onto each other, very much like you did once upon a time when you were little. 

In your desk, messily thrown along with your things by James, was Pandora’s gift, and a note in neat handwriting that said: 

Happy christmas sweet girl. Aquamarine, your birthstone, is said to possess healing properties known to cure even the most devastating of heartbreaks and tame the most powerful oceans into tranquility and peace. It also gives the bearer hope and clarity.  Love, Evan and Pandora Rosier. 

[livelaughlove0ntour]

regulus black x reader where christmas at the potters brings back two brothers together

Regulus Black rarely trembled. He was a man of precision, poise, and well-practiced restraint. Yet here he stood, fidgeting with the cuffs of his tailored coat, staring at the warmly lit Potter residence as though it were a dragon’s lair. His free hand clasped yours tightly, clammy despite the biting chill of December air.

“Amour,” he began nervously, his tone a mixture of urgency and dread, “are you certain the invitation was for me too? Perhaps Lily and James only meant you, and it would be terribly awkward if—”

“Reg.” You squeezed his hand, cutting through his spiral. “You’re overthinking this. They invited both of us. Lily wrote your name herself, remember? In that beautiful gold ink? You’re family.”

His jaw tensed, his grey eyes darting to the door and then back to you. “Family,” he echoed softly, the word heavy with doubt and hope intertwined. “It’s been years. Sirius—he’s—what if—”

“What if he’s been waiting for this moment?” you interrupted gently, reaching up to cup his face. His eyes softened, the worry in them breaking your heart. “You’re here because they want you here. And so do I. Sirius will come around, love. And if he doesn’t, you’ll have me to hex him. Alright?”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips, though his fingers still fidgeted. He leaned into your touch for a moment, taking a deep breath before he muttered, “I still think this might be a mistake.”

“It’s not,” you assured him, squeezing his hand again as you turned to knock on the door. Before your knuckles could meet the wood, his voice stopped you.

“Amour, wait,” he said quickly. “Are you absolutely certain? What if—”

You silenced him with a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. “Regulus Arcturus Black, if you ask me one more time, I’ll drag you inside myself.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, nodding reluctantly. “Alright,” he whispered, though his grip on your hand tightened as the door swung open.

Lily stood there, her radiant smile lighting up the wintry evening. “You’re here!” she exclaimed warmly, pulling you into a hug before turning to Regulus. Her arms wrapped around him without hesitation, her genuine affection clear. “Regulus, welcome.”

He stiffened at first, his posture rigid and uncertain. But then, slowly, he returned the hug, a quiet “Thank you” escaping him. You could see the way his shoulders began to relax, the faintest sheen of tears in his eyes as he pulled back.

“Come in, come in,” Lily urged, her excitement genuine as she ushered you both inside.

James appeared next, his grin as boyish as ever. “Look who decided to join the fun!” he teased, clapping Regulus on the shoulder. “About time, mate.”

“James,” Regulus greeted stiffly, his voice carefully polite but uncertain. He glanced at you, and you smiled encouragingly. James didn’t seem fazed by Reg’s formality, stepping aside with a welcoming gesture.

Before anyone could say more, a small figure darted out from behind James, a mop of black hair bouncing as the toddler jumped forward with a loud “BAH!” aimed directly at Regulus.

Regulus froze, staring down at the child with wide eyes. Harry, oblivious to the tension, pouted, his tiny face scrunching in disappointment. “He’s not scared!” he whined, looking up at James for confirmation.

“Oh no,” Regulus said suddenly, his voice low and serious. He stepped back dramatically, clutching his chest as though struck. “You’ve frightened me terribly!” His grey eyes widened in mock terror, and his hand shot to yours for support.

Harry’s pout disappeared instantly, replaced by an elated giggle. “I scared him!” he cried, jumping up and down with glee. “Mum, I scared him!”

“You sure did, darling!” Lily laughed, beaming at her son.

James ruffled Harry’s hair with exaggerated pride. “Great job, young man. Now, go on, bring your uncle and aunt inside.”

Regulus froze at the word, his gaze snapping to James. He seemed to falter for a moment, swallowing hard as emotion flickered across his face. Then, a tiny tug on his coat brought him back.

“Come on, Uncle!” Harry demanded with a toothy grin, his little hands pulling insistently.

Regulus stared down at him, his breath catching. Slowly, hesitantly, a small, soft smile crept onto his lips. He bent down and lifted Harry into his arms, the toddler laughing as he looped his arms around Reg’s neck.

You watched, your chest tightening with emotion as tears pricked your eyes. The sight of Regulus, holding Harry so tenderly despite his nerves, was enough to overwhelm you. He turned to you, his smile shy but genuine, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss both his cheek and Harry’s.

“See?” you whispered against his ear. “You’re exactly where you belong.”

Regulus didn’t reply, but the tear that slipped down his cheek as he carried Harry inside said everything.

The warmth of the Potter home enveloped you as you wandered into the kitchen, leaving Regulus in the living room with Harry still babbling excitedly in his arms. The sound of laughter and soft music filled the air, and the smell of something sweet baking teased your senses. You stepped inside, only to pause at the sight before you.

Peter Pettigrew and Mary Macdonald stood by the counter, hands brushing as they decorated a tray of cookies. Peter was a blushing mess, his usually pale cheeks bright pink as Mary whispered something that had him grinning like a schoolboy.

You cleared your throat loudly, hiding a smirk as they jumped apart, the spatula Mary had been holding clattering onto the counter. Peter looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Mary’s blush matched the rosy frosting she was piping.

“Am I interrupting something?” you teased, leaning against the doorframe.

“Bun!” Peter exclaimed, his voice a bit too high-pitched as he tried to regain his composure. “You’re here! We were just… uh, baking! Cookies!”

Mary rolled her eyes fondly but recovered quicker, smiling warmly at you. “Welcome, sweetie. It’s so good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too,” you replied with a chuckle. “And no need to explain. You two are adorable, by the way.”

Peter fumbled with the tray of cookies, muttering something under his breath as Mary handed you a warm one to taste. “Here, try these,” Peter said eagerly, watching your expression with nervous anticipation.

You bit into the cookie and hummed appreciatively. “Delicious. Seriously, you two make a great team in the kitchen. And overall.”

Peter blushed, but before he could say anything, Regulus stepped into the room. His presence seemed to shift the energy, quieting Peter’s usual bumbling nature.

“Regulus,” Mary greeted him brightly, her grin widening as you gave her a nod. She quickly plated a few cookies and handed them to him. “Here, try one. We’ve been working on these for ages.”

Regulus took the plate with a small, reluctant smile, glancing briefly at you as if for guidance. He picked up a cookie and took a careful bite, pausing as the flavors settled. Then, to everyone’s surprise, his lips curved into the faintest smile.

“They’re wonderful, Mary,” he said softly, nodding in approval.

You raised an eyebrow playfully. “And?”

Regulus hesitated, his gaze flickering to Peter, who was looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “...And Peter,” he added with a slight smirk.

Mary and Peter both grinned, looking utterly pleased with themselves. “Thanks, Regulus,” they said in unison, earning a chuckle from you.

The lighthearted moment was interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. You turned to see Remus stepping in, his tall frame illuminated by the kitchen lights. He smiled warmly, his gaze soft as it landed on you.

“Dove,” he greeted, pulling you into a quick hug. “You look lovely as ever.” Then, turning to Regulus, he nodded. “Glad you made it, Regulus. Sirius will be joining in a minute.”

Regulus stiffened at those words, his hand instinctively seeking yours as his usual calm façade faltered. After exchanging pleasantries with Remus, he pulled you aside, his voice dropping to a frantic whisper.

“Did you hear him?” Regulus asked, his panic barely contained. “‘Sirius will be joining in a minute.’ That’s code for ‘he’s furious I’m here.’ I knew this was a mistake. Oh, Merlin, I should leave. I’ll just make an excuse—would they believe me if I said Barty accidentally set Evan on fire?”

You tried not to laugh, gently placing your hands on his shoulders. “Reg, no one’s furious you’re here. Sirius might be dramatic, but he doesn’t hate you. And yes, they would believe that excuse, love. But just stay with me, okay? You’re doing fine.”

Regulus opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of a door opening again silenced him. Both of you turned as Sirius stepped into the room, his grey eyes instantly locking onto you.

“Doll,” Sirius greeted with a grin, pulling you into a quick hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you replied, giving him a warm smile.

Then Sirius’s gaze shifted to Regulus. His expression softened slightly, though his tone held a quiet intensity as he spoke. “Can I talk to you alone, Regulus?”

Regulus tensed beside you, his hand gripping yours like a lifeline. His wide eyes darted to you in panic, but you just smiled reassuringly and leaned in to whisper, “You’ve got this.”

You blew him a quick kiss before stepping away, leaving him and Sirius alone in the kitchen. As you walked out, you caught Sirius glancing at you, his face unreadable, before turning back to his brother.

Sirius leaned against the counter, his arms crossed as he studied his brother with a carefully neutral expression. Regulus, for his part, was stiff as ever, his fingers twitching slightly as he tried to suppress his nerves.

“So…” Sirius began, dragging the word out. “You’re here.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I am. And you’re here.”

Sirius’s lips twitched upward in a small, begrudging smile. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Regulus shifted on his feet. “You too.”

An awkward silence settled between them, the kind that years of estrangement couldn’t quite fill. Sirius scratched the back of his neck, clearly searching for the right words. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“I actually have something for you,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

Regulus blinked, startled. “You… do?”

Sirius nodded, his usual bravado muted as he turned and disappeared into the hallway. Regulus stood frozen, glancing back at the kitchen door as if considering fleeing, but before he could, Sirius returned. In his hands was a small package, wrapped haphazardly in parchment and tied with a crooked ribbon.

“Here,” Sirius said, shoving it toward him. “It’s, uh, not much.”

Regulus stared at the package, his brow furrowing. “I wasn’t aware there was going to be gift exchanging.”

“There’s not,” Sirius replied quickly, waving him off. “Just take it, alright?”

Regulus hesitated, then reached out and accepted the gift with the same care one might use to handle a priceless artifact. He carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper, revealing a neatly folded sweater inside. The soft fabric was midnight blue, and embroidered on the chest was a constellation—the Regulus star, shining bright—and a black dog stitched beside it, looking up toward the stars.

For a moment, Regulus just stared at it, his fingers brushing over the stitching. His throat tightened, and when he finally looked up, his eyes were glossy with unshed tears.

“I…” he began, but his voice failed him.

Sirius, clearly uncomfortable with the silence, began rambling. “I, uh, had some help from Remus, of course. I’m rubbish with sewing—nearly stabbed myself a dozen times. And the constellation—Remus said it should be accurate, so we looked it up in one of his star charts, and—"

The rest of his sentence was cut off as Regulus surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Sirius. A quiet sob escaped him as he buried his face against Sirius’s shoulder, his grip firm and unyielding.

Sirius froze for a moment before exhaling shakily. A small smile tugged at his lips as he returned the embrace, his own tears slipping free as he clung to his younger brother.

They stayed like that for a long moment, the tension between them melting away in the quiet of the kitchen.

When Regulus finally pulled back, his face was tear-streaked but calmer. Sirius gave him a lopsided grin and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Reggie,” Sirius said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m pretty sure dinner’s ready. And you know how James gets when people are late to the table.”

Regulus nodded, wiping his face as he smiled faintly. “Alright.”

Together, they stepped into the kitchen, their bond mended in a way neither had expected when the evening began. Everyone glanced up as they entered, noticing the tear tracks on both their faces, but no one said a word. Instead, they simply smiled and made room for the two brothers to join the gathering.

Regulus slid into the seat beside you, and Sirius took his place next to Remus. You gave Regulus a soft, knowing smile, gently squeezing his hand under the table. He squeezed back, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

The room soon filled with laughter as Harry began reenacting his earlier “scare” on an unsuspecting Remus, who pretended to faint dramatically. James and Lily chuckled, Mary and Peter exchanged amused glances, and Sirius leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually around Remus as he laughed at Harry’s antics.

As you looked around the table, your hand still intertwined with Regulus’s, you couldn’t help but think that this was what Christmas was truly about—family, love, and finding light even after the darkest of times.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

AUTHOR'S NOTE I literally sobbed while writing this (╥ᆺ╥；)

[livelaughlove0ntour]

a bed full of snakes is a warfield. // harry potter.

slytherin!harry potter x slytherin!reader

plot: ever since your first year, when you and harry entered slytherin, you've been rivals. always wanting to be better than the other, always fighting, always teasing each other. the problem is that you're so alike, you can't stand each other. until one night harry wakes up from a nightmare, and you help him calm down.

tw: rivals to lovers, mentions of violence, trauma, a nose bleed, sixth year, half-blood prince events, harry is the same harry as always just maybe a little more arrogant bc y'know, he spent five years in slytherin. fluff, angst, nightmares. low caps on purpose. draco and harry get along here.

notes: english is not my first language, but i hope you enjoy anyways. sorry if there's any mistakes.

horace slughorn lessons weren't an easy ride for someone who doesn't know potions. luckily for you, you were one of his most talented students like you were once for professor snape before he started teaching defense against dark arts.

in fact, you were so good at potions that you couldn't possibly believe how on earth harry james potter could be standing in this class and being the best one at it when a year ago he was a failure at this subject.

there was a part of you that was livid by the fact that he was succeeding at the only field you always surpassed him, because you and harry had a tendency of making a nasty competition out of the rest of subjects. but, there was another side of you that was about to explode out of excitement.

you sure loved a good competition, and harry provided that for you and you for him every single time since the two of you entered slytherin five years ago.

it became sort of a symbiotic relationship because he stimulated your arrogance and thirst for success like no other person in your life, it was a hunger you both carried driven purely by the need of being better than the other.

yet, the problem between you and harry was probably the fact that apart from being in an eternal competition, you two fought like if you were at war. draco malfoy, a friend of both of you, hated to be in the same room as the two of you at the same time and so did harry's bestest friends: ron and hermione. you and harry knew how to be awfully insufferable.

well, at least that's what everyone thought until that day.

it was a quite beautiful and warm day outside. the sky was clear as you were leaving slughorn class after being surpassed (again) by harry. at this point it was getting tiring to always lose to him but not even harry could ruin that day for you.

as you walked out of the classroom friendly grabbing pansy's arm, you saw him: his green eyes always standing out, his messy uniform and the way his skin appeared so soft to the touch. you dismissed the thought quickly as harry's look went to yours, and a cocky smile appeared in his lips as he approached you and pansy.

“guess you'll need to settle for the second place.” harry said, obviously teasing you. hermione and ron came chasing after him making obvious that he went out of his way to mess with you.

an annoyed sigh left your lips, it was almost funny to see how harry ego became bigger after every class because it meant that you would surely enjoy much more the moment you finally archived to bring it down.

as you looked at him, his eyes made you shiver a little. the bastard was pretty as a sin, and charming as a snake, but he always forgot that you also knew how to behave like a snake too, and finally your mouth opened to answer him.

“can't live without me, can you?” you answered, an arrogant smile placing itself on your lips. “just wait until i figure out how you managed to cheat in slughorn classes, and i will become his favorite like i was with professor snape.” you added, firing back at him with a determined expression.

“oh, please (y/n). the only reason you were snape's favorite is because he literally hates me unprovoked.” harry joked and you got instantly irritated. “and don't pretend you aren't obsessed with me either.” he said, obviously teasing you.

you looked at pansy, who seemed a little desperate to flee from your encounter and you released her arm letting her go silently. then your eyes went right back at harry.

“for merlin sake, potter.” you said, rolling your eyes at him. “you scared her.”

“no, you scared her.” harry answered, crossing his arms. “you're the one who gets all worked up when i tell you the truth.”

“what on earth are you talking about, potter? you were shit at potions all these five years until months ago, don't get arrogant on me.” you mimicked his actions, crossing your arms too as the words left your mouth.

“yeah sur-...” harry was obviously about to fight you back, until hermione voice interrupted him, making you both remember that you weren't alone.

ron stood back from the encounter clearly tired of your rivalry, and hermione by the other hand seemed in a hurry.

“harry, please we need to go or we're going to be late for herbology.” she said, annoyed. “by the way, hi (y/n).”

“hi granger.” your voice came out friendly. “please hold your dog leash tighter the next time.” you added, a mocking tone on your words as you looked at harry.

you and harry's friends weren't exactly «besties» but you did not hate each other at all. not after what you did for harry in third year.

you had proved that you cared for harry deep inside when a dementor made him fall of his broom breaking it in the process and you stayed by his side for hours before he woke up and even bought him chocolate frogs. hermione and ron didn't understood why you asked them to not tell harry, but they did out of respect and you disappeared before harry opened his eyes.

and that was your little secret, one you intended to keep forever.

how could you not? knowing that would only make him more arrogant that he already is. also, is not like you did that because you liked him anyways, right?

i mean, he's insufferable, but you didn't wanted him to die by any means. it scared the shit out of you even thinking about the possibility.

in fact, it frightened you so much that you were fighting for him to be safe even now, but he doesn't need to know yet. no one had to know.

except for, of course, dumbledore.

“if im a dog then what are you? a kitten?” harry answered clearly irritated and hermione pulled him by the ear to get him off your neck and dragged him the other way, leaving you with an heated answer stuck in your tongue.

but even if harry's words had made you furious, they also had a clearly effect on you.

“bye, (l/n)” ron said as he followed them, clearly enjoying not being the one scolded by hermione for once. his words brought you to reality again.

as harry left unwillingly with hermione and ron, you stood there for a second. the corridor was almost empty, and you heart was beating subtly faster than always.

was this something normal? when did you started to feel like this?

you didn't knew at all, sometimes it was like you felt this since first year without noticing. yet, this emotion you didn't wanted to acknowledge was really starting disturb your peace.

it seemed harry potter always managed to ruin your day.

hours later, you found yourself laying on your bed. the green sheets embraced your body comfortably, trying to induce you into dreams, but it was impossible.

you were wide awake in the pale moonlight crossing the water covering the windows of the slytherin girls dorm in the dungeons. a sigh left your lips, as you rolled in bed trying to find the exact position to finally catch sleep but instead you heard the door of the boys dorm opening and closing. then steps and a calm sob.

this was not the first time you heard this in your time on hogwarts and you knew what was it, but all these years you were too coward to go out and do something about it.

it was harry, and you knew that he had one of his horrid nightmares.

you decided this was the last night you wouldn't go out and help him, because even if he was annoying, irritating and a bastard, your rivalry had its limits.

as you stood up in your black pajamas, your heartbeat got faster. what were you going to say to him?

for once, a part of you decided it didn't matter.

so when you opened the door, you saw him sitting im one of the sofas of the common room, crying quietly, his face slightly red and with a nose bleed that was getting worse and worse, staining his neck and his pajamas.

you almost ran to his side, casting a quick accio charm with your wand to get an elegant green hanky with your silvery initials embroidered in one of the corners. a gift from draco that you haven't got to use until that night.

harry looked at you almost in shock as you sat on the sofa with him, but he stayed silent, sobbing without making almost any sound. he seemed surprised to see you there but he seemed to calm down a little when you grabbed his face sweetly and used your hanky to carefully try to clean the blood from his face, holding it to his nose.

your fingers got stained with his blood, but you didn't seemed to care.

“hold it in place” you almost whispered, talking to him like he was a crying child.

he subtly nodded, tears still coming out from his eyes.

your fingers approached his cheeks, wiping his tears away even if they would keep coming out. then, while seeing his face, you remembered the photo of james potter in his seeker uniform on the quidditch shelf on one of the hallways in hogwarts. yet, when you eyes met his, another iconic photo came to your mind.

the portrait of lily evans in slughorn's shelf. her loving eyes were the same ones her son had inherited, the constant vestiges of her life were alive in harry and spoke through him like an ocean of sweetness.

you didn't knew why you paid so much attention to harry's parents photos, but something had drawn your curiosity and through the years it became more and more real what everyone thought:

“you really look exactly like your father.” your voice came out, still in a whisper while grabbing his cheeks. “except for your eyes.”

you didn't added what everyone said next, because harry knew it all too well.

he leant against your hands, accepting your touch and a sad smile came out his lips, genuinely moved by your words. words that even if he had heard them a thousand times before, for some reason, he never expected to hear them from you.

and that made his heart skip a beat.

“thank you.” harry managed to say. your soul felt almost wounded at the sadness in his voice, the voice of a dying man, a dying boy, that once had survived death but it kept chasing him over and over again.

and while you fought him on daylight, now you wanted to protect him under the watery moonlight coming from the windows.

“don't mention it.” you answered. your hands didn't moved from his face, now caressing it tenderly.

“please don't tell-...” he was going to say, but you interrupted him.

“i won't tell anyone, you don't have to worry.” you said as you got closer to him. “i never did.”

of course you wouldn't tell a soul. as much as you loved your slytherin mates, you knew that a bed full of snakes is a warfield, and being a lot of them the sons and daughters of death eaters they were surely going to eat harry up with rumours and mean insults.

and, every other time you had heard him come out of his room at night, you always kept it private because being a snake meant surviving at any cost, even if that meant feasting on your own kin to keep yourself alive. slytherin was about enduring, about succeeding.

and those were qualities that helped harry in the many times he had to face tom riddle, slytherin made him understand the dark lord much better but the cost was the constant fear of becoming him, of not being capable of surviving, of transforming into an omen.

“it was one of your nightmares?” he nodded after you muttered the question, taking one of your hands to hold one of his.

“it was about the night my parents died.” harry confessed. the tears had stopped for a moment, but a couple of them left his green eyes. “snape taught me occlumency to keep voldemort out of my head, but i keep having nightmares.” he explained, his voice too calm for someone that cried a lot just minutes before.

you looked at him, his burden becoming extremely palpable to you. the curse of being an unwilling child forced to fight a war that he didn't started, and that he didn't wanted.

you didn't thought much about what you were doing when you took off his glasses, put them on the small table beside the sofa and pulled him into a tight hug, one of your hands in his back, the other on his nape, caressing him.

harry cried on your shoulder, and you tried your best to make him feel held.

“it's okay, let it all out.” soft words left your lips, reassure him. “im here”

he hugged you back, almost desperately. like if he hadn't been comforted in a long time.

“im here, harry i will help you. you're not alone” you said and you instantly regretted it, knowing your words probably blew up your intent of not revealing the secret you've been keeping from him.

as you both broke the hug, harry spoke.

“help me?” he asked, clearly in disbelief. “why would you ever help me?” he asked you, a smile escaping his lips through the tears as if you just told him a joke.

you sighed. it was time to reveal your secret.

“because even if i love to fight with you, i don't want to see you die.” you confessed, you words in a seriousness harry had never heard on you.

he went silent for a moment, suspecting you had something say.

and it was true, because when the year started you parents began to pressure you to become a death eater. a destiny you would quickly share with draco in no less than a couple months.

but you knew way better than that, and in fear of having to do something awful or worse (having to hurt harry) you ran to dumbledore and explained him everything.

albus received your confession with open arms and offered you a way to help harry: joining the order of the phoenix and act as a double spy under the tutoring of severus snape who also acted as a double spy.

you were forbidden of sharing most of that information with absolutely anyone, but here you were, about to confess in front of one of the people you hated the most.

or maybe you loved the most.

because who would put their lives on a stake for a person in who they don't believe? for someone you don't love?

the most beautiful sacrifices are made out of love, out of adoration.

and maybe and just maybe, you loved harry potter.

the realization came to you suddenly, as he waited for an explanation while looking at you.

yet, a realization came to him too.

“(y/n), what did you do?” harry asked, his eyes widening for a moment. “what did you do?” his voice was soft, yet desperate.

“there's a lot of things im willing to do for you.” you admitted, trying to dismiss his question one last time.

“for salazar, please tell me what did you do.” he pleaded, scared that you could be in danger.

something cracked on your insides because facing his desperation, how could you deny him all your secrets?

“i've joined the order.” your answer struck him like a punch straight on the face. “my parents want me to become a death eater, so i spoke to dumbledore. i'll be a double spy.”

harry face went from having a sad expression to a surprised one.

“but how? why?” he desperately grabbed your hands, you thought his eyes had a hint of fear in them but you dismissed it. “you can't just do that for me, you're sacrificing your life if voldemort finds out.”

“i'm doing it happily, harry.”

“but why?!” harry exclaimed, then he remembered that everyone were sleeping and closed his eyes in frustration. “we were fighting this morning, tell me why would you do this?”

“you don't understand.” you said as his hands grabbed yours tightly.

“you can't say that after saying all of this to me, (y/n).” he answered, obviously getting annoyed. “i don't want you to do this.”

“i think i love you harry.” you admitted, looking at him in the eyes. “i did it because i love you, i was just too stubborn to admit that to myself. i sat by your side in third year when you passed out and fell off your broom because i love you. i bought you chocolate frogs that time because i love you, i beated the shit out of crabbe in fourth year because i love you and he said some blood purist shit about you.” you confessed, looking at him, your voice getting weaker with every word said. harry smiled at the last sentence, now understanding why you did that to crabbe in fourth year. he had thought all this time that it had been just a discussion between both of you that escalated. harry remembered your wounded knuckles, and something inside him trembled. “all i ever did was because i love you, even when i fight you.” you finished, your eyes about to tear up a little.

the realization was too hard for you to handle, knowing he probably didn't liked you back.

you both were tearing up, his nose bleed had stopped long ago yet some stains of blood were in his clothes and in your fingers.

your hanky rested on the sofa, your eyes were on his like it was the first sip of water you got on a whole lifetime.

“remember that time in fourth year i approached you with ron, and i stayed silent for like a whole minute im front of you and then fleed?” harry asked, smiling sweetly towards you. you nodded in response, clearly remembering the awkward encounter. “i wanted to invite you to the yule ball, but i got scared.” he confessed. “and then you ended up going with draco so i started picking on you the whole event because i was jealous.”

a laugh escaped your lips as he spoke, you could have never imagined his intentions and now here he was, erasing your fear of harry not loving you back.

“i think i love you too.” he continued. “this is weird tho, i never thought we would be speaking of this”

“yeah, you're right.” you answered, taking your hand out of his to give him a friendly punch on the arm. “how i will get used to be all sweet with you when we're always insulting each other?”

“we'll get there someday.” harry said, chuckling.

a brief silence came between you both as your eyes explored each other's faces, and in a moment he just stopped thinking and made a move.

harry grabbed your cheeks and pulled you to steal a kiss from you, it was sweet yet you felt his subtly swollen face because of the tears, a little taste of blood because of the rest he had on his lips, your own tears finally running free. both of you weren't exactly experienced on kissing, but you managed to keep it loving.

it was the kind of kiss you never thought you and harry would give each other. the intoxicating embrace of a hidden love that somehow managed to survive all these years to finally bloom.

a kiss soaked in a infinite mantra of sacrifice, of purity, of unconditional love. the kind of love you're willing to die for.

yet, the kiss was brief and tender. when you both broke it, your cheeks were subtly pink and his were too.

“this is a good start.” you whispered close to his face, finally accepting the feelings inside your heart.

“yes, it is.” he smiled at you, and then it seemed like an idea crossed his mind.

there was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again.

“if you're going to be a double spy, you'll need to be trained.” harry said. “i can help you practice. it frightens me to think of you dying.”

his offer made you giggle, and you nodded.

“okay.” you answered. “i can help you with potions in return.”

“i mean, i've been managing as you already know, but i don't understand a single thing of what im doing so i could really use your help.” harry confessed, smiling. “you see, i found this book on my first class, it has notes to get every potion right.” he added. “and a spell i desperately want you to learn if you're really going to risk your life like that.”

you leant against his shoulder intertwining your hands.

“im up for it, what's the spell called?” you answered as he leant his head against yours.

harry didn't answered right away, he struggled in his insides to share the information, but now he felt safe with you.

you both didn't had a clue of what was going to happen or if you were going to be together right away. harry needed time, you needed time and all these confessions after years of fighting non stop were confusing the hell out of you. yet, a war was coming and you were going to play a dangerous part on it.

and knowing that you had already made your big move on the board to help keep him safe while putting you at risk, harry realized you really could use knowing his secret.

« a secret for a secret » he thought, thinking on your confession.

when he finally answered, his voice sounded serious but the intention of helping you was there.

his words were dripping honey, the kind of honey someone has inside when they want you to be safe. when they love you so much, they are willing to die thousands of times for you too.

“sectumsempra.”

I HOPED YOU ENJOYED IT!! im a sucker for slytherin!harry so im planning writing more things of him in the future!! ♡

[livelaughlove0ntour]

reading a good ass fanfic up until it said something that just makes you want to stop reading

[livelaughlove0ntour]

Do you know anything i can donate to for palestine that's not the gofundmes because the idea of having to choose who needs my money more is just. scary to me they all need it 3: maybe there's a thing that splits/distributes money evenly???? idk but help would be appreciated

Gazafunds actually deals with this anxiety and makes a decision for you if you want. Their home page has a spotlighted fundraiser and the code consider things like how close the gfm is to finishing, when the most recent donation is, etc. So it's randomized to help as many people as possible.

There's also @helpgazachildren which if you donate, you can help multiple people at once since it's a whole mutual aid fund, or at least close to it. Hussam distributes money to people who need it when he's asked.

[livelaughlove0ntour]

Jolene

James Potter x Reader One-shot ! warnings: childhood friends to lovers, jealousy, fluff, slight sirius x reader for the plot, raw dogging posting bc it has not been looked over by my beta reader whoops! word count: 5,311 masterlist notes: sorry i disappeared for like a week, i started classes— anyway this was born out of me listening to Jolene by Dolly Parton on repeat and realizing it is describing lily enjoy!

Lily Evans was a gorgeous woman. Her emerald green eyes and the milky skin clad in freckles were incomparable. Lily Evans was like the sun, her flaming auburn hair and the mere fact that she was one of the brightest witches in the castle. You knew this quite well, the shine of her hair, the glow of her smile, the softness of her skin. James would never let you forget it. How no one could compete with her. How her beauty was beyond compare.

Yet you couldn't hate her, not how she seemed to know the answer to every question, not how she stood up from the bed neighboring yours looking as radiant as ever, every morning. No, Lily Evans was sweet as honey and the best dormmate you could ask for. You couldn't bring to dislike her even when the man you were sickly in love with raved about her. 

James Potter was a beautiful man. His hazel eyes shined big and bright, the strong curves of his face, the curly black hair that bounced as he laughed, and his warm brown skin. James was the definition of sun-kissed. Your families had always been stuck together like glue, you spent your entire life attached at the hip, growing up next to him was a blessing and a curse. His never-ending joy at life, and the jokes that bounced off of his lips, were enough to turn anyone's day around. His smile was so bright you felt like you were staring at the sun itself. James was like the sun, you could never look at him directly, not for too long. As he grew girls threw themselves at his feet, he became a bit of an arrogant brat, but he always made it clear he only had eyes for one girl.

James Potter was in love with Lily Evans— the most perfect woman in the world.

You were such a fool. 

"Come off it," Lily laughed as she pushed James his body rocking to the side as he also giggled to himself. They had gotten closer the last couple of months, seemingly out of nowhere. You couldn't help but watch pathetically from the couch on the other side of the common room. You wondered what he was saying to her, his hand covering his mouth as he whispered in her ear. Her eyes shone with humor and joy, and so did his although a bit more mischievous, but that was just James. You couldn't help but clench your hands together, nails digging into your flesh.

"You should stop doing that dollface" Your eyes flickered back to Sirius, who leaned over from the back of the couch, his face awfully close to yours. You couldn't help but hold your breath. His nimble fingers took your hand, loosening your grip on it and massaging the half-moon marks on your hand. You went to turn away, Lily's laugh breaking the silence again and calling for your attention but Sirius turned your head towards him with a single finger, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours and something you couldn't see. "Just keep looking at me don't question it-" You could barely hear what he said, but his lips broke into a shit-eating grin, shiny teeth bared at you. And you couldn't help but laugh, slightly out of nervousness, but mostly because Sirius's antics were always ridiculous. Your laughter made his smile widen. 

He placed a small kiss on your temple and said thanks doll, as he let go of your hand and disappeared again. 

"He's ridiculous," Remus barely glanced from his parchment, his feather still grinding his essay away. The slight suspicion of what Sirius was up to crawled its way into Remus’s head as he watched the two of you interact, as he watched James's giggles stop from across the room, distracted.

”You’re not wrong there,” you frowned as you turned back to balancing your book and the essay you had been working on, on your lap. “I wonder what’s gotten into him”

Remus just chuckled without looking up. You didn’t hear Lily’s or James’s giggles again.

-

Sirius had started sitting next to you in every class, often replacing James, waving him off with a sit next to Moony, more often than not. This seemed to push James further into Lily's arms, as he sat next to her, she didn't seem to complain. You weren't loving it. Not that you disliked sitting with Sirius, he was more than competent, against all odds. But still.

 "May I ask what you're playing at Black?" your words were low as your charms professor droned on and on about something you hadn't really been paying attention to. 

"Whatever do you mean sweetheart?" He gave you his familiar toothy grin, eyes dancing with devilishness "Can I not sit next to my dear Y/N? One of the smartest, most beautiful witches our age?" you scrunched your nose, lips suppressing a smile at his antics. "Not to mention one of my best mates?"

"You know what I mean Sirius, you've been awfully touchy lately" His smile widened, and moved his face slightly closer to yours "Not to mention awfully close," this last part came out as a whisper. He really had been close, always a breath away, always pushing his face close to yours. Two nights ago he had smushed himself to read your book along with you, you had been practically cheek to cheek. 

Sirius had always been touchy, he was always resting on someone, sprawled on James’s bed, his legs across Peter’s on the couch, asleep on Remus’s shoulder. But this was a little out of character.

Sirius opened his mouth to speak but the large bell signaling you guys were done echoed through the castle. He broke into a grin again, and grabbed his stuff quickly, shoving papers and quills inside his bag unceremoniously.

“hurry up doll,” he muttered as moved to shove your stuff equally as clumsily into your bag and took a hold of your wrist, dragging you. You pushed by your friends, shooting a look of confusion toward Remus. He smiled at you with a wink, as he walked. 

Sirius finally stopped and you ran into him. 

"For Godric's sake, what is up with you?" You finally got him to let go of your wrist and he closed the door to the empty classroom he had shoved you in. "If this is you trying to seduce me— it definitely isn't working I think we gotta send you to a workshop,"

He snorted as he shook his head, "If anyone is going to a workshop on seducing it's you doll," you crossed your arms and huffed "I'm trying to help you out here-"

"With what Sirius?" 

"Making Prongs jealous duh" he looked at you like you were stupid, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. A small twinkle in his eye caught your eye, it was the type you saw when he was about to make something detonate. Maybe this time he wanted to explode your life.

"You're absolutely bonkers" You couldn't believe what he was saying, as if James would ever be jealous of anyone in respect to you.  

"You fancy him no?" He twirled his wand around, his grey eyes analyzing your facial expressions. You tried your hardest to keep a poker face, trying and failing to not let him see. Sirius had always been a very observant man.

"It's a lost cause, Sirius," you laughed dryly as you thought of it, "she has me beat"

He frowned, "who?"

"Lily, obviously, are you stupid?" he pulled at a piece of your hair at the insult "You've lived with James since we were 11, he's been utterly smitten with her ever since he met her what do you mean who?"

"I think you're the stupid one, they're just friends" You shook your head, a hand going to massage the bridge of your nose as you thought about what he was saying. "yuh huh, Prongs told me so himself"

"And you believed him?" you scoffed "he says he's over her every four months Sirius I didn't peg you as gullible" 

He pulled your hair again and you swatted his hand away. You thought about it, James has said the same thing before, how he's over her once and for all, I, James Potter will be over Lily Evans by the end of the week. It had never worked. Their whispers and their giggles, their closeness over the past couple of months were definitely not friendly. Maybe it was for her but for him? Not a chance.

"I really do think you have a chance with him," his tone was lower now, "I reckon he just needs the right push"

"Sirius even if she isn't into him, even if he didn't like Lily, the most perfect woman on the planet" he frowned "he would still never see me as anything more than what I already am to him," you stared straight into his eyes.

You had thought about it many times of course. You prayed and pleaded to the universe every year that Lily would never reciprocate James's feelings. The second you saw their newfound closeness you felt like dropping to your knees and begging her. Begging her to please Lily don't take him. Lily was a captivating woman, she could easily have her choice in men, and she did, but you felt like you could never love again. You knew it was a lost cause, you had heard her name muttered in his sleep, even when he was napping with his head on your lap. The first time it happened, you hadn't even noticed the tears on your cheeks, nor the ones welled up in your eyes. It had always been clear to you, how easily it would be for her to take him, he wasn't your man. She just had to say yes.

So you cried, time and time again, away from prying or worrying eyes. This was your secret to bear. 

You looked at Sirius again, shaking your head. Sirius could feel droplets of regret settle in his stomach as he saw the tears well up in your eyes. He had never seen you cry. 

“Fat chance Black”

-

James Potter thought the world of you. He knew he could not live without the curve of your face, the way you smiled at him as if you knew something he didn't. He felt like you could see his soul. You always said he smiled that way too. He wondered if this overlapping trait was a byproduct of a childhood spent together. A childhood spent glued at the hip, one of him being your knight in shining armor when you played, a childhood of sticks and stones that he never let your knees touch. His knees were covered in scrapes and scars that would never fade, but something deep within him never allowed him to let the same happen to you. James Potter could not live without you. He couldn't help but watch how Sirius draped himself over you, and how he hurried to sit next to you. He couldn't help but notice the whispers and the giggles. He couldn't, for everything that was sacred, ignore the closeness. And the fact that you let Sirius press his cheek to yours and whisper merely a breath apart. That part had made his stomach turn. 

It wasn't that the two of you weren't close. It was just that James had never seen you be close like that with anybody else. He had spent almost every day of his life by your side. Asleep with your cheeks pressed together, childish limbs all tangled up, you always woke up first and shoved him off the couch. He remembers when you used to hold his hand, his was always dirty with mud and grass, you never cared. You asked him to marry you when you were seven.

He promised you he would.

As you grew up, you continued with this closeness. You had slept in his bed more times than he could count, even at Hogwarts sometimes you'd climb into a corner of his bed. You'd always end up pressed against one another. You would still accidentally nap together on the couches at Potter Manor, or his head on your lap in the common room. And he could admit that Lily Evans had caught his attention, it had been an ongoing thin, and after certain revelations... Deep down he knew. 

It had always been you.

James could only stare after you as you set down the hallway with the black-haired boy. A pat on the shoulder from Remus was enough to ground him again. James thought of Sirius's hand around yours. 

"Where are they going-"

"Probably to snog in some empty classroom until they undoubtedly get caught," Peter spoke mindlessly as he struggled to untangle his sweater from his messenger bag. James stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn't thought about it. The possibility that the nearness between you and Sirius was something else, that you could be involved more intimately.

He thought of your lips, the soft plump lips that kissed his forehead. The ones that stretched into a smile every time you saw him, the ones that curled involuntarily when he said something stupid. The same ones that had kissed him in spin the bottle merely a year ago. He thought of those same lips kissing Sirius. 

He might throw up.

 James stared at Peter wide-eyed

"What? I thought we all assumed they had something going on" he shrugged as he finally separated the two items. "They're all close and disgusting everywhere— just like you and Lily-"

"There's nothing between me and Evans," Remus and Peter raised their eyebrows at the confession. 

"You're always together so I just assumed" Peter's words might as well have been a mumble to James, as he continued to think of you and his best friend. How long had this been going on? 

“Well there’s nothing”

-

You couldn’t help but think about what Sirius had said. He convinced you to let him do his thing, you don’t even have to do anything. But you couldn’t help but run laps around the thought of James being jealous. He didn’t seem upset with you having to kiss Remus during spin the bottle two months ago.

You thought back to the time you kissed. Your first, and most likely only, kiss with James Potter had been by the graces of an empty bottle of firewhiskey last year. You never failed to remember how he laughed after you kissed, a warm full-chested laugh, the kind he gets when he’s all riled up after outrunning Filch. The kind he gets when you set muggle fireworks in the forbidden forest and have to run away after lighting. You pushed him and he simply smiled widely, as if nothing had happened. It was a sharp contrast to the way he seemed to go all shy after Lily had to kiss him. His face seemed to go red and a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. 

Yes, not at all alike.

You wondered if Lily thought about that kiss as much as James probably did. You couldn’t get the image out of your head, his lips on hers. The lips that pouted at you every time you told him no, the same lips that kissed the top of your head when he passed by behind you and you were too engrossed in your work or broke into a smile every time you saw him. The lips that in childhood had kissed your hand and called you princess. You thought of those lips, kissing Lily. 

Probably right now, it was 10 pm and she wasn’t in your dorm, her bed vacant next to yours.

“Why do you look so worried, sweets?” Marlene couldn’t help but notice the way you curled in your bed, the deep frown that had taken hold of your brows. She kneeled next to your bed and pushed the center of your eyebrows, “You’re bound to get wrinkles Y/N stop that”

”I don’t care Marls,” you unclenched your eyebrows nevertheless.

”What’s got you so down?” She leaned her head across her forearms on your bed, her short blonde hair looked windswept, her bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “is it Sirius?”

You moaned in frustration. Marlene Mckinnon was one of your closest friends. She was the first person you got close with at Hogwarts, her bed sat left to yours, she was your closest confidant. 

“There’s nothing between me and Sirius-“

”Potter seemed to disagree he wouldn’t stop bombarding Sirius with questions during dinner,” you had decided to hide out in your room instead of going down for dinner, Marlene had set a muffin on your nightstand when she entered.

”What did Sirius say?” you bit your lip

”He just told him it was none of his business— I thought Potter was going to burst a blood vessel right then and there” she laughed as she pushed her finger on your forehead again, smoothing out the frown lines.

”Sirius thinks I have a chance with James,” her mouth did an o “he wants to make him jealous but I think he’s full of rubbish” Marlene had known for a very long time about your futile crush on the boy, it was hard to be as close to someone like Marlene, someone so in tune with people’s feelings without her finding out. She always shot you sorry looks when you'd see him with Lily. You pretended to ignore them.

”I can’t believe I’m saying this but Black finally had a good idea”

You groaned into your pillow, your hands pulling slightly at your hair. “What sort of friends are you guys?” Your words were muffled by your pillow and she laughed again but patted your hair,

”Friends that want you to be happy-“

”Yea well this isn’t the way” your voice got louder and higher pitched, you felt like you'd suffocate on the pillow “I’ll be happy being her bridesmaid when they get married and have three kids and live in a cute little house, and I'll be godmother to their children and be happy that at least I didn’t explode one of my closest friendships because the two of you have lost a couple of screws!” you tried your best to push some humor through your voice, you might've been grasping at straws. 

”Who’s getting married?” Lily shot you a playful look from the doorway, you hadn’t heard her come in. You wanted to disappear into your sheets, you couldn’t even look at her right now. She groaned as she dropped her pile of books onto her bed.“Is Sirius giving you trouble? He seems so taken with you-“

You groaned as you buried your face into the pillow again, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you. Marlene found the whole thing more than hilarious, her whole body shook as she laughed and she wiped her eyes of the wetness that had formed at the corners. 

“I’m going to kill him-“

”What? You guys have been so smitten lately I just thought-“ Lily’s face twisted in thought, nevertheless the edges of her lip curled upwards

”Nothing is going on between me and anybody,” You got up swiftly, a bad mood settling in your stomach like a pile of rocks. “I’ll just see you later-" You grabbed a sweater, that you were pretty sure was one of the boys, it would not help you hide in the darkness of the castle but hopefully it would provide some warmth. You bent down to take your shoes from beside the door and walked out without further comment. 

“Was it me?” 

“I fear it might’ve been Lils” 

- 

“Hush-“

”Don’t tell me to hush Moony— you’re stepping on my toes” Sirius whined in a whisper

”Prongs you need a bigger cloak” 

Sirius peered over James’s shoulder as the speckled boy opened the map, the footsteps at the end of the hall seemed to get nearer

“oh” James felt a swirl of emotions in his chest,

”Who is it Prongs-“ Peter barely managed to squeak out before James answered

”It’s just Y/N” the marauders huddled around the map now, watching the banner with your name circle the corner and float down the hall they were hiding in. “What d’you reckon she’s doing up-“

”Shhhh she’s getting close-“ They could see you now, James's brown sweater covering you, one of your shoes untying as you padded down the hall. Tears were in free flow now, they could see even through the darkness, the splotches on your face, and the tracks of tears down the curve of your face. You wiped them furiously with the edge of the jumper. 

Something inside James warmed, all he wanted to do was close the distance. He looked briefly at Sirius, whose eyebrows were furrowed in worry. Sirius always hated seeing people he cared about cry. James wondered if he had done something to you. If there truly was something between you and Sirius.

You had well passed them now, but the marauders could still hear your sniffles from down the hall. 

”Merlin-"

"hold the bag Moons" Sirius pushed the small bag of dung bombs onto Remus's arms and slipped out from under the cloak. Sirius couldn't help but smirk as James protested, whispering furiously to get back here.

Sirius started running then, to catch up with you, his light jogs and tall legs allowing him to catch up with you quickly. Your heart shot up as he got closer and you could hear him near you, quickly dying down when you turned to see the dark-haired boy behind you. Sirius hoped James could hear from here.

"Whatcha up to doll?" 

"Godric Sirius what is wrong with you-" you placed your hand on your chest, feeling like your heart might fall out of it at any moment. You decided not to question where he came from, you just hoped the rest of his group, and James were far away.

James couldn't help himself, he was desperate to know what the two of you were talking about. So he herded the other two down the hallway, enough of a distance that you wouldn't notice the shuffling, Sirius definitely did, but close enough that he could see you clearly. The soft, homely mess of your hair, the tired curve of your eyes. He knew you were nervous, the way you played with your fingers and rocked your body, your leg. He could hear your honeyed voice, your tone close enough to the one you'd mumble to him with when you were about to pass out in his bed.

"Many things actually, I fear it all boils down to my mother-"

"You're so utterly insufferable"

"Yet you love me,"

"Sadly, I guess I love you" James felt the knot tie in his throat at your words, he tried to recall when you had said those words to him. Sirius smiled at your words, his fingers pulling at a strand of your hair. "oi watch it—"

He hoped James was ready to blow a fuse. Actually, he knew he was.

"Marlene agrees with you by the way," You softly swung your foot, hitting his own rather softly "I suspect you've both lost it"

"Nah, great minds think alike doll, you just gotta believe in me" he got closer now, pulling you into a hug. "Will you tell me why tears were falling down your pretty face?" He slightly rocked you, his cheek smushed against the top of your head. Sirius naturally would've comforted you regardless, he hated nothing more than seeing his friends cry. But the thought of James watching and stewing in his unexplored jealousy made him giggle in his head. 

James's face was twisting in a way that was unfamiliar even to him. Bitter and negative feelings weren't exactly part of his repertoire.  Remus tried his best to stifle a laugh. 

"Lily just came in, while I was talking to Marls about the whole thing and I guess," you sighed loudly, looking up trying to make the newly formed tears that gathered in your eyes absorb back. James always thought you and Lily were pretty close, what could you possibly tell Marlene that you didn't feel well telling Lily? Why hadn't you told him? "I don't know Sirius I just lost it, she started talking about you and me and I lost it, I wanted to scream at her" James could feel his blood boil, Sirius had done something. He knew Sirius had. You buried your face in his chest again "My frustrations aren't her fault,"

"I know sweetheart, I'm sorry" Sirius continued patting your hair, he worried now, about what James could hear. He felt bad now, that he knew they were invading your privacy. "I feel guilty-"

"No Sirius it isn't your fault"

"I feel like I'm just opening up the wound, I don't want to give you false hope-" James felt like a teapot ready to explode with pressure.

He pulled the coat from over the three boys, revealing their presence in the hallway. You felt like you were going to drown in your shame.

"Sirius Black you're a bastard-" James closed the distance quickly, going straight for a tackle rather dramatically. Sirius pushed you away just in time. As the two boys wrestled on the floor, James continued to call him names, the idiot's and how dare you's flew unceremoniously. All Sirius could do was laugh

"I knew you'd do something to'er you good for nothing-" James was shaking him now, ignoring the fact that Sirius kept laughing, "I knew you'd make her cry-"

"James he didn't make me cry," your tears flowed down your cheeks again, you felt shame and embarrassment swim in your chest. You cried because you knew you had to come clean, Sirius wouldn't do it for you. There weren't many excuses he could come up with right now. You could feel yourself sweating cold, like the morning dew on leaves, embarrassment stuck to you.

You couldn't help but take a good hard look at him now. At James, who looked at you with his stupid hazel eyes the size of the sun, who clutched at his best friend's shirt collar. At his brother's, for you. How brashly he had swooped, sweet James who always came to your rescue, even when you didn't need it. When you were barely 7 and ran around his large yard, the rows of flowers and bushes his mother grew were gorgeous and they seemed the height of buildings, the thorns will cut you, I'll get you a flower Y/N. He had always been your knight, the shield of comfort where you hid from the rest of the world, the gentle solace to return to when life got too hard or people teased too intensely. Those people often woke up with apple-green hair thanks to him. 

James was the noblest man you knew, with a heart twice his height. 

You had fallen in love with him for this exact reason.

"It's you James" James felt like someone dropped him in the middle of the black lake. You shook your head, a sad smile carving your expression. 

"I made you cry?" he sounded 7 again, innocent and afraid that you'd be hurt. His voice was soft and traveled faintly through the otherwise quiet hallway. Remus and Peter seemed to be holding their breath.

"I love you," James dropped his grip on Sirius now, who hit his back painfully against the stone floor with a groan. All he could manage was to look at you, his weight still resting between Sirius and his knee on the floor. "but I know I can't compete with Lily and that's alright, I reckon one day it'll pass." 

You took his silence to heart, Remus couldn't help but shoot you a worried look, his brows furrowed the way they always did when he could tell your heart hurt like he could hear it clenching. You gave them one last smile, trying to wipe the sticky fingers of embarrassment from your being as you began to walk away, praying that nothing stood between you and the common room.

"You're an idiot Prongs-" Sirius pushed James off, and the brown-haired boy rolled to the floor, his back against the cool stone as he thought of you. 

”She loves me-“

”We all heard her,” 

“Shut up Moony-“

”Well she doesn’t know does she-“ The boys looked at Peter like he had grown a second head. “That you love her.”

James groaned from the ground the skin of his cheeks feeling hot.

“I reckon you oughta go after her” Peter said as he put the map in his back pocket, the three boys stood around to James looking at him from at ground. 

James buried his face in his hands. You seemed so defeated, so sad that you loved him. How could that ever be a sad thing? 

“In a surprising turn of events Wormtail’s right, move it Prongs-“ Sirius kicked James in the thigh, causing the boy on the floor to jump into action. He stumbled up, looking comically disheveled. He opened his mouth to speak to which Remus told him to Just go!

So James ran, he ran through the hallways so fast he thought he’d start levitating. It wasn’t hard for him, to catch up, not with the length of his legs or the pace he had set, in fact, he found you fairly quickly, yelling your name down the hall. You yelped as he skirted to a stop right into your arms, colliding with you with little force.

”You’re going to get us caught it’s after hours already-“ 

“I don’t care-“ he pulled you closer to his chest, his arms completely around you now “I had to tell you, and truly that’s just the thing I don’t care whether it’s morning or the middle night or truly any other time of day hell it could be in the middle of Charms-“

“you’re not making sense James-“

”Oh, right” He took a deep breath, but the silence lingered, his hand now skirting around the hair that framed your face, almost touching but not quite. His face was so close to yours that you could see the flecks of a light brown in the underlayers of his irises. “I just meant to say— to tell you that, well I love you too”

”I thought you and Lily-“ He got closer, if it was even possible, his lips ghosting over yours now, waiting for you. His hand remained steady at the edge of your jaw. 

“Enough about Evans yea?” you closed the distance, his lips had felt like a magnet pulling you in.

Kissing James felt different than kissing any other boy. It even felt different than the first time you kissed. This was sweeter, this wasn't under the scrutinizing gaze of your friends or the excuse of an empty bottle. This was intimate and filled with want, his soft plump lips seemed to fit perfectly with yours. The grip of your waist tightened and brought you closer to him as his kiss turned hungrier, and your hands traveled from his chest to his unruly locks of hair.

You finally parted with a sigh, a happy one you felt like. Satisfied.

He pressed his forehead against you humming in content. 

"I'm confused-"

"Lily and I are just friends now, she's not exactly into me, is she? Or men in general I reckon but regardless" He looked into your eyes, his hands now cupping your face and adoration pouring from his gaze. "It's always been you, I love you"

"I love you too, you twat-"

this took me to long to cook up @prongsprincessworld :D

hope u all like it!!

[livelaughlove0ntour]

[livelaughlove0ntour]

List of Palestinian Evacuation Fundraisers

Last Update: 05/07/2024

All fundraisers have been looked into by me or vetted by others. If anyone notices issues in validity with any of the fundraisers listed please let me know. Funding updates daily!

Fadi Al-Sharif and family ($13,594/$62,500 goal)

Hayam Taha and family (€9,728/€30,000 goal)

Deyaa and family (€9,404/€20,000 goal)

Fatima Alshanti (kr14,195 SEK/kr150,000 goal)

Shahed Ghazi and family ($7,579 CAD/$94,838 goal)

Little Yusuf and family (€7,297/€85,000 goal)

Sara & Huda Hajjaj and family ($2,375/$15,000 goal)

Mohammed JH Shamia's family (kr27,471 SEK/kr250,000 goal)

Maram Ahmed and family (€1,420/€30,000 goal)

Hamza Almofty and family ($4,092/$35,000 goal)

Mahmoud Jomaa (€1,479/€10,000 goal)

Dr. Mohammed Shara ($1,171/$20,000 goal)

Abdulrahman Alshanti and family (kr139,795 SEK/kr350,000 goal)

Besan Almabhouh's family (€6,403/€25,000 goal)

Said Tanani and brothers (€31,575/€50,000 goal)

Donia Tanani and family (€67,973/€100,000 goal)

Hussein Shamiya, his pregnant wife, and son ($9,340/$40,000 goal)

Mohammed Shamia and family ($17,946/$35,000 goal)

Amro Bakr & kids Bakir and Tala (€2,297/€15,000 goal)

Almadhoun family ($18,837/$80,000 goal)

Child Mohammed (€7,195/€10,000 goal)

Sana'a and family (£20,788/£50,000 goal)

Noha Ayyad and family ($24,037/$95,160 goal)

Maryam Ayyad and family ($1,000/$15,000 goal) - Maryam is related to Noha listed above, who is managing her fundraiser.

Hamza Sameer and family ($2,199/$55,000 goal)

Hamza is related to Noha, he is her uncle’s son.

Nazmi Mwafi and family ($5,301/65,000 goal)

Ibrahim Almofty and family ($2,929/$40,000 goal)

Hamdi Hejazi and family ($12,453/$25,000 goal)

Mohammed and family ($7,980/$25,000 goal)

Heba and family (€29,106/€60,000 goal)

Mohammed Abuhasanein and family (kr2,302 SEK/kr 350,000 goal!!!)

Rawan and Yemna (kr27,395 SEK/kr319,315 goal)

Laila Auda (€5,117/€35,000 goal)

Ola Madi (€150/€40,000 goal!!!)

Tawfik Satoom and family ($5,050/$45,000 goal)

Laila Abd El Bari, her husband, and unborn baby Sham (€1,388/€25,000 goal)

Abdullah Mohammed and family ($2,704/$47,000 goal)

Ruba Abushaban and family (€5,796/€50,000 goal)

Hala, her husband, and their daughter ($3,707 CAD/$50,000 goal)

[livelaughlove0ntour]

Sick Day ~ Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Requested: No Requests are: Open!

Summary: Anakin sneaks in to take care of you after you aren't at training one day.

Warnings: Language, fluff, being sick

A/n: Transferred from my wattpad account with the same name.

There are numerous synonyms for the word cold. Chilly, cool, brisk, crisp, bitter, frosty, frigid, bone-chilling, icy, raw, freezing, frozen. Not to mention the ones with more than one word to them. Biting cold, frozen down to the bone, deep freeze, extreme cold, etc, etc, etc. 

But not one of them felt like the right word to describe the kind of cold you were feeling. The kind of cold that made you wonder if you would ever feel the sun on your face, the warm spring air as you raced around the deserted lands of some random planet. Perhaps that might work. But words like warmth, spring, and sun all give you this nonsensical feeling of hope, this feeling of warmth inside you. Even if there is no real hope to actually become warm on the outside.  

The freezing air crept its way under your skin, injecting you with the biting feeling of thousands of icy shards that would soon make their way to the very depths of your soul, to kill you and leave you to rot in misery and the agonizing truth that you may never be anything but cold ever again. 

 This would work better. But it still was not accurate enough. The kind of cold you were feeling was much more intense and spirit crushing than you could put into words. 

But perhaps the reason for this is because not only were you physically cold. But also because you were mentally alone. Not physically alone. You could never truly be alone, there would always be someone or another just waiting around a corner for you. 

The words to describe loneliness were much more bountiful. Deserted, desolate, destitute, forsaken, empty, isolated, lonesome, recluse, anti-social, comfortless, companionless, rejected, renounced, outcast, estranged. Et cetera. Et cetera. Et cetera. 

All you wanted was someone to hold you. To be there. 

Someone must have noticed your absence, because a knock came at your door. Which in an odd way made you feel less alone. Perhaps it was because you made enough of an impact, however small it may be, that someone noticed you were gone. 

You nearly rolled of the bed, sniffing along the way, blanket wrapped around you so tight it was hard to walk. You opened the door a crack and peeked through. You saw it was Anakin, Obi-Wan Kenobi's Padawan. You were Dar Jorell's Padawan. Though both you and Anakin would soon be facing the Trials, despite him being a year older than you. "Yes?" You asked, clearing your throat. 

"I noticed you weren't in training today, I came to see if you were okay." He said, glancing at the messy room behind you. It was littered in paper and books that you had gotten on missions. But aside from the usual stuff, there was a near overflowing trash can of tissues next to your bed. "Are you okay?" You could hear the amusement in his voice. 

"I'm sick and I'm cold." You mumbled, leaving the door open while you walked back over to your bed, blanket still draped over your shoulders. You laid down on your side, closing your eyes. You weren't exactly sure why you left the door open. Or why you decided to open up to Anakin all those months ago, about your family Sen your past. You could remember snippets of them from when you were a toddler. Normally no one was able to. But you opened up and told Anakin that sometimes you miss them. Sometimes you feel lonely because you miss them. 

You aren't sure what made you tell him that. Just like you can't exactly narrow it down to an exact reason for leaving the door open. Did you want him to come in? To sit with you? Did you just not want to close it? Did it feel rude to shut it? 

"Can I come in? Do you need anything?" Yes. That's the reason you left the door open. You wanted him to stay with you. 

"Of course you can come in," came your muffled voice through your comforter. "I don't need anythin'."

He stepped into your room, and you squinted through your eyes at him, watching him turn the knob as he closed the door. He turned around to face you, and you squeezed your eyes shut again. "Actually, on second thought, can you get me some medicine. I have a killer headache." 

He nodded, humming a yes. "In your bathroom?" 

You confirmed and gestured to the door across your room. He disappeared into it for a moment and a minute later he walked back in with two pills in hand. "This is right?" He asked, holding the palm of his hand facing you. 

"Yeah, thank you Anakin." You took the pills from him and swallowed them with some water. He sat at the edge of your bed as you wrapped the blankets around yourself once more. 

"Are you still cold?" He asked after a second. You just nodded, closing your eyes. After a moment, you heard him moving around on the bed, felt the mattress dipping down behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and instead of being alarmed you just sunk right into the heat of his body. He was like your own personal furnace, one arm draped over your waist while the other is under your head. Your body melded against his, you scooted back into him, pulling him closer if at all possible, so you could soak up any more of his warmth. You kicked the blanket off of you and scooted yourself closer to Anakin. You were thankful there was nothing dividing you from him now. Nothing dividing you from warmth. 

He squeezed you tight for just a second as you grabbed the hand that was under your head. "Wait, I don't want you to get sick too." You cautioned. The only thing that would suck worse than having one soon-to-be Jedi down, would be having two of them sick. With the same thing. That would lead to certain implications. 

"I'll be fine. I promise you. And if not, you'll be there to warm me up." He spoke and it tickled your neck. His head was buried into the back of your neck, nose touching, and close enough that when he spoke his lips touched. It sent chills down your spine for reasons you were trying to ignore. 

"Of course I will." 

---

When you woke up the next morning, you were turned around and facing  Anakin's chest. But he wasn't sleeping, he was awake. Awake and currently angry. Arguing with someone, but trying to be as quiet as possible. You lay there, trying to hear what the conversation was about. 

"Anakin, the Jedi are not supposed to form attachments." You recognized the voice, but the only reason you were completely sure that it was Obi-Wan Kenobi is because he is the only one that Anakin occasionally listens to. 

"That isn't what happened with you and Satine, is it? From what you told me you were pretty attached to her." Anakin accused. You almost laughed. 

"Anakin. How many times have I told you to stop bringing her up. We could get in serious trouble." Obi-Wan raised his voice. 

"Quiet." Anakin whispered, wrapping an arm around you. "She had a headache last night and she is asleep." 

"Anakin, this girl is a nice girl, I'm sure. But you need to be more careful. You can't be careless like this, especially if you said she doesn't know." You eyes shot open, but quickly closed again. You hoped your body didn't go as stiff as it felt. 

"Damn it, Obi-Wan. You've woken her up." You pretended to shift, opening your eyes slowly. You were feeling much better this morning, at least. You stretched and hugged Anakin good morning. Hopefully your act was convincing. You pretended to notice him looking behind you, and looked over your shoulder. Your eyes went wide as you caught sight of Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

"Uhm, hi." You said in a meek voice. 

"Hello there." He responded in a somewhat smug sounding voice. 

"How are you?" You asked, stretching out the last syllable. All you wanted to do was turn back around and hide. 

"I'm doing fine. Other than the fact that I just caught you two sleeping in the same bed. I'm just glad I didn't walk in on anything else." Your mouth dropped open and you hurried to correct him. 

"I- We- Nothing of the sort happened." You said, flustered. You sat up next to Anakin, and grabbed his hand for support. "He came to see me because I wasn't in training yesterday because I wasn't feeling well and then I asked him to get me some medicine, and he noticed I was cold so he laid down. Now I'm warm." You rushed out. Anakin stayed quiet and oddly still, his hand still holding yours. 

Obi-Wan simply laughed. "You're so clueless." You scoffed, offended. Who was he to talk? He doesn't know you, you are not clueless. 

"Alright, that's enough." Anakin sits up, still clinging to your hand. "Nothing happened. She was sick and I fell asleep. Calm down. It isn't a big deal." 

Obi-Wan raised his hands in defeat, backing off. He waved a goodbye to you, and left after shutting the door. 

"Are you feeling better?" Anakin asked, facing you, but you were facing forward. 

"What don't I know?" You questioned in a quiet voice. 

"What?" 

"Your master was saying something about me not knowing something. He said, 'especially if she doesn't know.' What don't I know?" You hoped that it would be what you thought it was. 

"You heard." It wasn't a question. "What else did you hear?" 

"You brought up a woman named Satine. And you never denied that you had grown attached to me." You cursed your bad wording in your head. 

"Satine. She's a part of Obi-Wan's past that I shouldn't have brought up. And I couldn't deny it or I would have been lying." He dropped your hand, instead favoring to mess with his fingers instead. 

"Are you that fucking stupid?" 

His head snapped up at that. "What?" 

"You think that I would have let you sleep in my bed, or get my medicine, or lay down with me had I not grown attached to you myself?" You had to remind yourself to be quiet, so Obi-Wan didn't have a reason to come back. 

It was deadly silent in the room now. "Anakin." You didn't know what you wanted to say but you knew you and to say something. "What happens now?" 

"I kiss you." You look over at him as he says it, your eyes wide in shock. He pulled you to him as your lips met. You weren't sure what to do with your hands for a second, so they were just laying there on his chest while you were in absolute bliss. His hand moved to cup your cheek, and the other settled on your lower back so he could pull you closer. 

The feel of his lips against yours was heaven, they were soft and comforting as only he could be. You eventually moved your hands to tangle in his hair as he deepened the kiss. You pulled away when you needed to stop. Instead you laid your forehead against his, and the hand that was on your cheek moved to trail down the side of your arm. It traced all over your body, he was just trying to memorize every beautiful thing about you. And to him, that was absolutely everything. 

"So what happens after this?" You smile at him, just barely peeking through your eyelids. 

"Hopefully we do this again." You snorted at him, which turned into a full belly laugh. Laughing at all the things. Anything really. 

What's amazing about this entire process is that the word love has no synonyms that truly live up to the meaning of the word. Not affection, not cherish, not fondness. Nothing truly lives up to the word love. It gives you that feeling of warmth and hope in the pit of your stomach. 

Now because of the somewhat accurate description of the cold, now you are left with an even more accurate and much more complete description if everything you are feeling. 

There are icy places. Cold places that seem to swallow you whole. Cold wants to seep into your skin, to burrow itself deep inside you and inject you with icy shards of freezing glass that will tear your soul to shreds. But after that, there is a warmth. The best kind of warmth. A warmth that melts the shards and  protects your soul. That is the warmth you feel now. 

Masterlist

[livelaughlove0ntour]

The Script

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: you and Peter break up once you find out his secret and he falls apart

Masterlist

“We broke up.”

The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face. Ned turned around in his desk chair and pulled his earbuds out of his ears.

“What? No way.” He laughed dismissively at the assumed joke until he noticed the red rim around Peter’s eyes.

“It’s true. She broke up with me. She doesn’t want to be with me anymore.” Peter repeated through a childlike cry.

“But I thought you had a date tonight? Did something happen?”

10 minutes earlier

“Peter?”

Peter froze in the alleyway and stopped looking for his backpack. He turned around slowly and saw you standing there under a harsh street light with his backpack in your arms. The webs he had shot on it to keep it secured against the wall were still hanging off.

“It’s you? You’re the Spiderman?” You asked in a voice barely above a whisper. You were looking at him with a mixture of betrayal and confusion as you clutched his backpack like you were a child with a teddy bear. Peter still had his mask on so he stayed dead silent.

“Say something.” You seethed, a newfound anger in your voice and eyes. Peter gulped and nodded his head, knowing there was no point in lying.

“I am.” He said, making your face crumble when you heard his voice. You held the backpack tighter and stared at him as your face crumbled.

“What are you doing out here? Did you follow me?” Peter asked you.

“No. You never showed up to our date. I called you when I was walking home. Alone. I heard your phone ringing in this alley way. It was in your backpack. Here’s your stupid fucking backpack.” You said through clenched teeth and threw the backpack at him. He caught it with ease and dropped it to the floor.

“There have been Spiderman sightings on Youtube for years. Years. You never told me?” You asked and surveyed every inch of his suit as you saw it up close for the first time.

“Nobody knows.” He said quickly. “I mean, May knows. And Ned. And a handful of people I work with. But that’s it, I swear. I don’t expect you to understand this all right now but please believe that I have to keep my identity a secret for my safety. And your safety too.”

“You don’t expect me to understand?” You laughed and tilted your head to the side as if to ask if he was serious.

“I just mean that I know this is a lot to process right now.”

“It’s not a lot. You’re the Spiderman and you never thought that was something I should know. I had to find out on accident after getting stood up for the hundredth time. But, sure, I’m glad Ned knows.” You nodded and looked up so your tears wouldn’t fall.

“I would’ve have told you eventually. I just needed more time. If people knew who I was, everything would change. I wouldn’t be able to help people there way I do now. I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“Since when am I just “people”and “anyone” to you?” You shook your head. “How could you keep this from me for this long? We’ve been dating for over a year. And I’ve known you since middle school. How much time did you need?“

“I don’t know. It just never felt like the right moment to say it. I wanted to tell you so many times.”

“You just never did.” You shrugged. Peter recognized that the situation was quickly escalating and you were not reacting the way he always imagined you would.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting upset right now.” Peter said calmly. “I thought you’d be happy to understand why I have to miss so many dates and flake all the time.”

“You thought I’d be happy to learn that you’ve been lying to me for our entire relationship?” You laughed again as tears fell down your face.

“I wasn’t lying.” He defended. “I just couldn’t tell you the truth yet.”

“Yet. Right.” You smiled tightly. “We’re over a year in but haven’t gotten to the point where you can be honest with me. I see.”

“I am honest with you. This is the only thing I’ve ever lied to you about. I promise.” He said and tried to step closer to you. You immediately stepped back and hugged yourself.

“I thought you loved me.” You said as you stared at the ground.

“I do love you. How can you even question that?” He laughed in shock. You looked up at him and he saw that your anger had turned to sadness.

“Peter, you stood me up countless times. Tonight included. You let me cry myself to sleep for so many nights. All those times I walked home alone after already getting to the restaurant or watched movie by myself through tears because you couldn’t bother to show up. You knew I was feeling insecure lately about the distance between us but you still decided to say nothing to cue me in as to why it was happening. Do you know how painful it is to feel someone you love pulling away and have them tell you your suspicions are all unfounded? How long would you have let me feel that way if I hadn’t caught you tonight?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how this was affecting you.” Peter said quietly.

“Of course you didn’t.”

“Look, I know this is really upsetting now, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” Peter said and put his hands on his shoulders. You pushed him off of you and took a step back. Peter gulped and wondered how he was going to make it out of this conversation alive because he had never seen you reject him like this.

“You always say that. And you never do. I have a long list of things I’m still waiting for you to make up for. Why should I believe this time is different?” You asked him and folded your arms.

“It will be different. I promise. I’ll fix this. Stop walking away from me.” Peter pleaded and reached out to touch your face.

“It’ll be different. You promise. You say the same thing every time. And yet, I always end up crying over you. I shouldn’t have to cry over a relationship I’m still in.” You said as you pushed his hand away from you. An anxiety built in Peter’s stomach as he was used to you telling him it was fine every time he had disappointed you in the past. This time was clearly different and he didn’t know what to do. You turned and started to walk away from him so he quickly followed after.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, Peter.” You said without stopping.

“No. You can’t leave now. We have to talk about this. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. You can take it all out on me. Just don’t go, please.” Peter begged as he stepped in front of you to stop you.

“I don’t want to cry anymore, Peter. I’m done. This is done.” You cried and pushed past him to keep walking. Peter froze when he heard you use that word and felt his blood run cold.

“What? Done? Done with what?”

“With you. With us. With all of it. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m breaking up with you.” You said as you turned around to look at him. Peter felt his stomach drop and could barely hear you over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“What? We can’t just break up. I love you.” He protested as he got that feeling in his nose that told him he was about to cry.

“That’s not good enough for me.” You shook your head.

“What?”

“You can say you love me as much as you want but until you prove that, I can’t be with you. I won’t be with you. I’m done.” You repeated and turned to walk away again. Peter quickly ran after you and dropped down to his knees in front of you.

“No, no. No. Please. Don’t leave me. Please. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Just give me one more chance.” He begged as he took both your hands. You looked down at him for a long time as you thought things he wished he could hear.

“Please.” He whispered, barely audible. You looked up again but it was no use to stop your tears from falling.

“Say something.” He pleaded and squeezed your hands.

“I’m saying goodbye.” You said after a beat of silence. Peter made the mistake of letting his hopes build up during that silence. He stayed on his knees as you pulled your hands out of his and walked away. His tears fell rapidly down his face and it wasn’t long before his heartache turned into misplaced anger. He got off his knees and turned in your direction.

“You’re not being fair.” He called down the street. You stopped in your tracks and turned around.

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask to be bitten. I didn’t ask for this life and all this responsibility. But it happened to me and I’ll never know why but I do know that I have to do something about it. I wish I could be a normal guy my age and take my girlfriend on dates, but I can’t. I have a duty to this city to protect it. I hate that it’s true but sometimes, I have to chose helping someone in need over spending time with you. You’re acting like I went out of my way to neglect you on purpose.”

“I understand that you didn’t choose this, but you could have told me all of that from the start. Then maybe I would’ve been more sympathetic. But right now, all I can think about is every little lie you told me to keep me in the dark. Oh, I’m sick. Oh, I have homework. Oh, I have to help my boss with something. Tonight, you told me you weren’t gonna make it to our date because your aunt needed help with something. You didn’t even care enough to lie about what she needed help with. But, yet, at least I got a lie tonight. Sometimes you just don’t show up.”

“I had to lie, okay? Do you have any idea how much danger I’d be in if you let it slip who I really was?”

“So is it that you couldn’t tell anyone or you couldn’t trust me not to tell?” You asked as you walked back up to him.

“You know how you are. You tell your friends everything.” He said coldly.

“Are you seriously saying this is my fault?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault.” He sighed. “I’m just saying that you’re being kind of selfish right now.“

“I’m being selfish?”

“Yes, you are. It’s selfish to expect me to prioritize you over the safety of-“

“Of who?” You cut him off. “Of literally all of New York? Of the world? Where does your domain of responsibility end? Who do you prioritize me over? Where do I rank? When do I matter to you?”

“That’s not fair.” Was all he could say because he didn’t know the answer to your questions.

“You know what else isn’t fair? Making me have to be the only bad guy here. Because the funny thing is that I would have been proud of you. I would have been honored to be the girlfriend of someone who risked their life and gave their time to protect people they didn’t even know. But you never gave me the opportunity to feel that way. You chose to lie to me. You chose this over me every single time. You never chose me. That’s why we’re breaking up. I would have understood if you needed to prioritize saving lives over dates with me but I cannot understand you lying to my face every single day for years. I spent birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and countless nights staring at the empty seat I saved for you that you never showed up to. So no, I don’t think I’m being selfish right now. I don’t think it was selfish of me to share my boyfriend with all of New York.”

Peter was quiet again as he processed what you had said. There was no way to undo what he had done and it was clear apologizing wasn’t cutting it this time.

“I don’t know how to be without you. You’re my best friend. None of this matters without you.” Peter said in a small voice. You sighed and felt sympathetic towards him for just a moment.

“Peter, you were and always will be my first love. That’s always going to mean something to me. But now I have to look back at our relationship and never know what was real and what was a lie. If you’re not going to choose me, then I will. I’m done waiting around for you. I’m done.”

“Please, don’t give up on me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He croaked out.

“But you did.”

“I know. I know I did. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll never stop trying to make things right.” He pleaded and tried to reach for you again.

“Don’t bother, Peter. You need to stay away from me for a while.” You told him in a calm voice.

“What? How long?” He blinked in disbelief.

“I don’t know. A long time.”

“But can we at least be friends? Like we were before?” He asked desperately.

“We can’t be friends.” You shook your head and turned to leave again.

“What? Not even friends?” His voice cracked as he called after you.

“I can’t be your friend. I can’t be in any kind of relationship with you. That’s what I’m trying to say here. I don’t trust you.”

“Ever?” He squeaked out. “We can’t ever find our back to each other?”

You didn’t answer him as you walked home alone. Peter stood on the sidewalk for a long time, unsure of what to do with himself now. He wanted to run after you and get you to see his side, but he knew that would just make things worse. You had said what you needed to say and he had to respect that as much as it pained him to see you walk away. Instead of going after you, he swung to Ned’s house and climbed through his window.

“We broke up.” The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face.

Peter let a month pass before he tried to speak to you again. Minus a few texts and voicemails left on particularly miserable nights, he had left you alone for the most part. But after counting down the 31 painfully long and quiet days without you, he went up to you in the hallway on campus one day.

“Hey.” He greeted you with an anxious smile. You stopped walking and looked behind you to make sure you were the one he was talking to.

“Hi.” You said with knit eyebrows of confusion.

“How are you? How have you been?”

“I’m fine.” You said flatly.

“Did you just come from class? Was it okay?”

“Um, I really don’t want to be mean here but why are you talking to me?” You asked him. Peter blinked in surprise at your response and lost all the confidence he had built up.

“Oh, um. I don’t know. We haven’t talked into a month. I was giving you space.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Giving me space.” You replied. “I still don’t want to talk to you.”

“But it’s been a month.” He pointed out and realized how silly he sounded as it came out of his mouth.

“Okay? We ended a year long relationship and years of friendship. We can’t just go back to normal after that.”

“But…but we’re different.” He stammered. “We were different. I thought, I don’t know, maybe…”

“Maybe what? I’ll just forget about the shit you put me through?” You asked when he trailed off. He shut his mouth and went quiet and you couldn’t help but feel bad at the deer in headlights look he had in his eyes.

“Peter, I told you.” You sighed. “We can’t be friends.”

“I know we can’t go right back to how we were but we don’t have to pretend the other doesn’t even exist.” He insisted.

“No, Peter, you’re not understanding. I won’t be your friend. I won’t even fake niceties with you. I’m not trying to be mean but I don’t want you in my life in any capacity. I’m not changing my mind on this.”

“We can’t just never speak again. Our story can’t end like this.” He said quietly and you could tell he was on the verge of tearing up.

“It wasn’t supposed to. But it is. So please, just leave me alone.” You asked calmly so that he wouldn’t break down.

“I can’t. This is killing me. You and I not being together doesn’t make sense to me. Please. I’ll do anything to make this right. I still love you and-“

“Peter. Please. We’re at school.” You cut him off and uncomfortably looked around for who was listening.

“You’re telling me you don’t feel anything for me anymore? Because I don’t believe that. I know you. I know you can’t shake things that easily.”

“I didn’t think so either. But I’ve never been hurt like this.”

“Then can we please go somewhere and talk? I’ll listen this time. I swear.” Peter pleaded and stepped forward to touch your arm. You stared at him for a minute and looked sympathetic so he thought you might say yes.

“I can’t.” You said finally. “I have class. I have to go.”

“Oh, okay.” He nodded in disappointment. “Maybe some other time then. Just please know how sorry I am for hurting you.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, Peter.” You sighed. “I’ve moved on. I think you should too.”

“You’ve moved on? Like, with another guy?” Peter blinked a few times to stop the tears he felt threatening to spill out at this new bit of information.

“Not that it would be any of your business if I did, but no.” You amswered. “I just mean that I’d been mourning our relationship before it even ended so I accepted our breakup a long time ago. I’ve moved on now.”

“Were you really that unhappy?” Peter asked in a small voice.

“Well, yeah, Peter.” You admitted. “I loved you when you were around but it felt awful the nights you were gone. I felt completely alone a lot of the time. And even when you were with me, I was never sure you wanted to be there.”

“I always wanted to be with you.” He promised. “If you ever believe something I say again, just know how badly I wished I could have been there with you.”

You chewed your bottom lip and stared into his eyes as you tried to decide if you should believe him or not. You swore never to believe another word out of his mouth but his tired eyes seemed so genuine that you knew there must be truth to his words. But even if he was telling the truth, that didn’t matter to you anymore.

“I can’t talk about this right now. I have class.”You repeated. “Get some sleep tonight, okay? You don’t look so good.”

Another month went by and Peter was starting to feel used to not speaking to you. The thought of it beginning to feel normal to not have you in his life scared him so he called you up one night and listened to your voicemail with tears in his eyes. By month three, he pretty much just felt numb. He was falling to pieces very quickly and you were the only one who could save him. He’d seen you around on campus and sometimes get a pity wave if he stared too long. Every so often, he’d follow you home but keep his distance on rooftops. He swore you knew he was there as sometimes you’d stop and look up. He made no effort to hide but you made no effort to seek him out.

Peter was on his nightly patrol one night when his police radio started going crazy. He heard the words “bus crash” and “pile up” being reported over and over so he picked up his radio to listen for where it was. Once he had a location, he swung to the bridge and landed in the middle of the scene. Peter saw one of the large city buses on its side and twenty some cars piled up behind it. Police officers were already on the scene and helping people but Peters senses were telling him danger was still present.

“How can I help?” Peter asked an officer.

“Usually I don’t like seeing you at crime scenes but you might be able to help us. A bus is about to over the side of the bridge and our extraction guys are having a hard time getting onto the bridge with all the traffic.”

“Which bus?” Peter asked and looked around.

“It’s over there. Bus Q8.” The officer pointed out. There was a bus hanging over the side of the bridge with its nose pointed towards the water. Peter could see people inside trying to stay calm so they didn’t shake the bus.

“Q8? My girlfriend takes that bus.” Peter’s mouth went dry as his head shot back to the bus teetering over the edge of the bridge.

“Then you better hurry.” The officer called after Peter. The bus was on its side so Peter opened up the emergency hatch on the top and climbed inside. He calmed down the people on the bus one by one and assured them that he was there to get them to safety. As he spoke to the passengers, he kept an eye out for you but didn’t see you in any of the seats. You normally took the bus home at this time and Peter found it hard to believe this was the one day you didn’t.

“Was there a girl on this bus with a purple backpack? She was wearing brown converse and a jean jacket today. Did any see her?” He asked the passengers.

“Yeah. She was sitting over there.” Someone answered and pointed to the back of the bus. Peter went to your seat but only found your backpack.

“This is her backpack. Where is she?” He asked and felt his fear rise quickly. He looked around and saw that the back door of the bus was opened. He pushed the door open a little more and the bus wobbled at his movement.

“Did she leave?” Peter asked with his panic evident in his voice.

“She was helping a few people get out of the back until this little boy ran out. She told the mom she’d go find him. I haven’t seen her since.” Someone else informed him.

“Okay. Thank you. I’m gonna get you guys to safety.” Peter promised. He helped people out of the back of the bus one by one after securing the bus to the bridge with his webs. Once he was sure everyone was out safely, he began to search for you. He had an anxiety like nothing he had ever felt as he searched through the crowds for your face. As he looked around the scene, he heard a woman talking to a police officer about a girl falling over into the water. Peter felt his hair stand up and approached them.

“Excuse me? Was the girl who fell into the water wearing brown converse?” He asked and hoped the answer was no.

“I think so.” The woman replied but couldn’t be sure.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked.

“This girl helped me get my son after he ran off the bus. He had climbed into an empty car nearby to hide so she climbed in to get him. But the car fell into the water before she could get out herself.” The woman replied as she clutched her son to her chest.

“Did…did the car go under?” Peter asked with a dry mouth. The woman looked pained at his question and he already knew her answer.

“When I looked over the side, I saw it sink under the water. I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do. Did you know her?” The woman asked and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The police officer started asking Peter questions but he couldn’t hear anything. He felt like he was about to pass out and stumbled backwards. He took off running towards the side of the bridge and looked over into the water. The rocky river water looked especially treacherous that night, sending a sick feeling to Peter’s stomach. He wasted no time and dove into the water in search of you. He swam down and eventually found a car in the water but when he pulled the doors open, there was no sign of you. Peter quickly swam up to gasp for air before going back down to look again. He did this five times before he exhausted himself. He dragged himself onto the little patch of grass at the base of the bridge and laid on the ground. He pulled his mask off and let out a guttural sob as he covered his face with his hands. He knew he had to pull himself up and help the people on the bridge but his entire body felt like lead. He rubbed the saltwater out of his eyes and took another minute to recover. As he rolled over to get himself up, he made eye contact with you.

“Peter?” You asked in a shaky voice. You were wet from the river and holding yourself as you slowly walked toward him.

“You’re okay?” Peter asked as he got up off the ground. You were shivering from the cold and he wished desperately that he had something he could cover you with.

“Yeah. I managed to get out through the trunk of the car. I was on the other side of the platform when I heard you crying. Did you go looking for me?” You asked when you realized he was wet too. Peter was still in stunned silence at the sight of you okay after accepting that you had likely drowned.

“You’re okay.” He said and started to get all chocked up again. Peter took a step forward and opened his arms to hug you hit stopped himself. He stepped back and hugged himself instead.

“What are you doing?” You wondered.

“Giving you space.” He said seriously. It made you laugh for some reason which he didn’t understand but he didn’t question it.

“Shut up.” You said when your laughter stopped.

“I didn’t say anything.” Peter said as you threw your arms around him. He stumbled back in surprise but then hugged you back tightly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and slipped his hands into your hair to hold you closer. It felt like muscle memory to hold you again and the chill in his bones was gone in seconds.

“That was really scary. When the car fell into the water. I couldn’t breathe.” You choked out and he held you tighter.

“I know. Shhh. I know.” He whispered in your ear as you struggled to catch your breath. You pulled away just a little so that you could look at him.

“I thought of you.” You admitted. “When I was trying to find my way back to the surface. I was so tired and my lungs felt like they were going to explode but I just kept thinking that I needed to see you again. That’s what kept me going.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I should’ve been here.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” You smiled sadly and touched his face. Peter returned the sad smile, the kind the made his eyes crinkle. But as he stared into your eyes, he couldn’t help but think of the things you had said the night you broke up.

“I should’ve been there for you a lot more than I ever had been.” He began. “You didn’t deserve to spend all those nights alone wondering where I was. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to you. I should have just told you the truth. I don’t even know who I was protecting in the end. I told myself it was you but that’s not true because you still got hurt and I was the one who hurt you. And I’m so sorry for that. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.”

“Peter, you don’t have to do this right now.” You assured him.

“I do. Because I don’t know when you’re gonna talk to me again and I have so much I have to tell you. So I need you to know that I’m sorry for all the times you got dressed up for me and just never showed. I’m sorry I let you think the distance between us was all in your head even though I felt it too. I’m sorry for all the calls and texts after we broke up because I could never stay away from you. And for following you home everyday because you looking up when you thought to was around was the closest to an encounter that we had most days. And I’m sorry that I clearly didn’t love you hard enough if you were able to move on so quickly. I guess the absence of my love wasn’t much worse than the presence of it. Or maybe the presence of it already felt like an absence. I know I was barely there in the end. I know you deserve better. And I hope you get better. You were always the best part of me and now I’m just the loser who got really lucky that a cool girl liked him and found a way to fuck it all up.”

“You didn’t fuck it all up.” You smiled sadly. “We had a lot of good times too. We were happy.”

“Not enough for you to stay. Which I don’t blame you for. I wish it didn’t take losing you to realize how much I needed to change but it did. So I don’t blame you for being fine without me. You’ll always be fine. You’re better off now without me in your life and I’m just falling to pieces. I guess when a heart breaks, it doesn’t break even.”

You started at him for a moment as your eyebrows came together. You let out a short laugh and expected him to do the same but he just looked confused.

“That’s that song.” You said finally.

“What?”Peter frowned. “What song? I’m pouring my heart out here.”

“I’m falling to pieces, yeah. I’m falling to piece, yeah. Cause when a heartbreak no it don’t break even.” You sang quietly and Peters eyes went up in surprise.

“Oh shit. It is that song.” Peter realized. “Damn it. I thought I made that up. I’ve been listening to The Script a lot lately. Especially the one that’s like “cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be.” I’ve been blasting that one so much that May had to take my speakers away. So then I started scream-singing it and she threatened to kick me out.”

“It’s so like you to accidentally quote a popular song and think you made it up yourself.” You laughed softly. “You said I so confidently that I genuinely believe for a second that those were your own words. But no. It was just the musical stylings of the popular early 2000s band The Script.”

“The Script are the only people that understand me right now.” Peter mumbled, making you laugh again.

“You laugh but they make the best music for yearning.” Peter continued just to make you laugh again. He smiled at the sight of you laughing at something he had said after so many months of silence between you. When your laughter died down, you looked at him for a moment the way that you used to.

“I don’t want you to yearn anymore.” You told him and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter understood what you were getting at and nodded his head.

“Do you think we could try again?” He asked in a soft voice. You smiled a little and took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest.

“I think so.” You answered.

“I swear, everything will be different this time.” He insisted. “I won’t leave you lonely anymore. And we can take it at any pace you need. Just tell me what I can do to earn back your trust.”

“I don’t know. I think maybe I can trust a guy who dives into the Hudson River for me.” You said with a coy smile as you nodded towards the water.

“I really hate to do this right now but that’s actually the East River of-“

“I don’t care.” You laughed and pulled him into a kiss to shut him up.

Tag List 🏷️

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@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[livelaughlove0ntour]

TROUBLE ALMOST ALL MY LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

Description: The ONE time the BAU needs you + the FOUR times you need them.

word count: 24k (what on earth was I thinking)

trigger warnings: mentions of spencers addictions + use + side affects. MOMMY ISSUES thankyou ambassador Prentiss. hostage scene + injuries. mentions of forced/pressured marriage. fem!reader. reader and Emily struggle to bond.

next chpt.

main masterlist.

authors note: We never meet Emily's dad nor do we see a picture so while reader is given a nickname of Bugsy, she still keeps her real name (no use of y/n) and is given ZERO physical descriptors. ALL of my fem!readers should feel included here, let me know if this is not the case! also I don't speak any language besides English however she does speak many because of her mom, so I really tried to get it right, message me if I'm being stupid!!

[this] means its spoken in another language.

—

‘trouble on my left, trouble on my right,

I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life’

1. the one where you become a translator.

“I’ll make some calls, I may still have some friends in the Eastern countries,” Ambassador Prentiss announced to the room, standing from her place on the plush sofa. 

A case had landed quite literally in Emily’s lap when her mother had come by that morning asking for Hotch, a Russian migrant looking for her father with a ransom note and a sliced off finger shoved through her mailbox, wedding ring still attached. 

It wasn’t every day Emily wished she’d brushed up on her Russian, but today of all days she was struggling to keep up. 

“We don’t have much time, we need a division of labour,” Hotch’s serious face settled, the time constraints making him just that bit more dictatorial, “Morgan, someone needs to go to the Chernus’s house in Baltimore in case they are contacted again,” 

“What about the language barrier?” Derek raised, smoothing a hand over the short scruff of his beard, “We can’t have the unsub speaking with the family directly. He could say anything to them without us knowing,” 

Bugsy would hate to admit she fit the criteria for youngest daughter of a workaholic mother and distant father to a tea, but Emily would say different. 

Elizabeth Prentiss had never been a warm woman; Emily used to tell her the scowl was a side effect of the overplucking of her eyebrows, not the serious nature of her job. Her youngest girl once said her mother’s lips looked like she’d sucked a lemon. Of course they admired her work, but world peace meant jack shit to a little girl wanting nothing more than a mother’s hug. 

Despite the fact she’d pushed away her husband and both her daughters in favour of her career, the one useful thing about being the Ambassador’s daughter wasn’t just the money, but the widespread culture the girls had been crammed full of since they could so much as beg for a sippy cup. 

“Baltimore, you say?” Emily asked Hotch with a somewhat doubtful wince, “I mean you could always-”

“Absolutely not,” Her mother cut her off, rubbing the stress lines already creasing her forehead at the very notion of her other daughter, despite the fact Emily hadn’t even finished her thought.

Emily’s sigh was a reflex, the years of her mother cutting her off sparking the frustration on instinct. 

“She lives right in the city, Mother, it can’t hurt to have her just talk for them-” Emily tried to bargain, only for the sharp mouthed Ambassador shoot her a frown. 

“End of discussion, Emily,” Elizabeth snipped, her manicured fingernails twitching with annoyance, “Your sister is much too young for an assignment so serious,”

Emily rolled her eyes with a scoff, as if the two had slipped back into the role of rebellious teenager and scathing mother without much thought. 

“She's twenty-two, mom. She’s getting her masters degree for Christ sakes, she’s not ‘too young’,” The dark headed woman fought back, clicking her pen a few times as if the spring loaded ink would take away some of the temper Elizabeth seemed to flare up. 

Her mother’s lips pursed, in the way Bugsy hated, in the way that meant she was going to be mean.

“Immature may have been a better word, then,” She replied, and Emily seemed to pause. She couldn’t argue with that. “Or perhaps lazy, or puerile; callow, wild, irresponsible. Would you like me to name more?” 

“Asinine would be a good term; deriving from the Latin asinus it not only means foolish, but to be stubborn and lazy like an ass,” Spencer input helpfully to the Ambassador, only for his bright smile to fade when he saw the daggers Emily stared at him with, “Sorry, I love word games,” He muttered into his lap. 

“Asinine. Perfect, Dr Reid,” Elizabeth said, and Emily could only roll her eyes harder.

Hotch huffed, the victim’s daughter watching between the two women’s quarrel with wet eyes, the ice box with her father’s finger clenched tightly in her lap, the cold of the limb bleeding into his own gaze.

“Unfortunately, Ambassador Prentiss, despite just how asinine your daughter might be, Morgan is right. Having the Unsub possibly speaking with the family without us understanding what he’s saying could prove fatal,” He explained, ignoring the way the older woman’s mouth scrunched in bitterness. They didn’t need to be profilers to see that despite how tempered the relationship between Emily and her mother was, a tension seemed to fall between the women the moment the younger Prentiss was mentioned. 

Spencer was sure he was the only person who even knew Emily had a little sister. 

“Very well, but don’t be surprised when you find your hands full of the girl,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head as she led the victims, a mother and daughter that seemed to cling to one another for comfort as if to rub salt in her matriarchal wound, into the break room to get away from the frosty atmosphere that now lingered around the table.

Emily sighed, picking around her fingernails the way she did when she was bothered. 

“I’m going to hate these next words that are gonna come out of my mouth,” She started with a long exhale, “But my mother’s right. Bugsy is a handful. Just try not to get her wound up, that girl smells fear,” She looked to Reid who seemed none the wiser, “I’m talking to you, wonder boy. She’ll eat you up and spit you right back out,” 

Spencer gulped quietly. 

Derek only chuckled, slapping a hand down onto Emily’s shoulder, “Relax, Prentiss. Your mom’s just got you all worried. Need I remind you I grew up with two sisters? This will be a piece of cake,”

–

Those were the famous last words of Derek Morgan. 

Loud, heavy metal music jumped through the wooden door, so loud Morgan worried his three polite knocks would go unheard as the two of them waited outside her dorm for her to answer. Morgan was about to knock again, figuring the music had drowned out the first lot, when the door swung open and a frown the spitting image of Emily’s stressed expression met their gaze. 

She looked so different to their Prentiss, but the way she seemed already scorned by the two of them told them they had the right woman. 

“Miss Prentiss?” Morgan asked formally, though he felt the warmth grow when he caught sight of a beat up friendship bracelet around her wrist amongst newer gold chains, five white blocks spelling out her sister���s name pulling tight on her skin, as if she’d quickly outgrown the thing but hadn’t the heart to remove it. 

It was then that he and Reid seemed to both reel back slightly at the fact she was standing in a large shirt, ratty around the edges, and what seemed to be a pair of men's boxers covering her bottom half, clearly not suspecting particularly important visitors. 

She looked him head to toe with a frown, a dozen piercings in her ears, her hair highlighted with streaks of cardinal red, as if he was the one confronting her in his underwear, before she moved onto Spencer, who’s face seemed to be getting hotter by the second as he forced his eyes away from her bare legs. 

“Are you guys strippers? Did someone send strippers to my door?” She asked, strawberry gum smacking between her lips as her gaze seemed to finish mulling over Spencer’s tall form and returned to Morgan.

“Emily sent us.” Reid said shortly, the music blaring in his ears making it difficult to focus on what it was she was saying, “As co-workers, no-not strippers. We’re with the FBI,” 

He hated loud noises anyway, cringed at the sound of particularly cutting rock songs, but since he’d developed his … problem, the dilaudid had him feeling like someone was clawing at his skull, tugging his brain through his ears.

“Emily sent you here?” She asked with a scoff, looking the two up and down again. They both easily caught the way her face hardened, “Are pigs flying today or something?” 

“We’re here to ask for your help on a case,” Spencer rushed through a sweaty brow, “Emily said you’d be able to act as a translator for us and some Russian citizens who are being targeted,” 

She sighed sceptically, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, “Any strippers or non-strippers can fraud an ID. Emily’s name was in the paper just the other week. I’m gonna need a little more than that,”

She keeps track of her sister despite the supposed distance between them. Spencer was quick to profile, his mind whirring at all the ways she reminded him of her sister down to the way she raised her eyebrows expectantly at them. 

“Emily was born October twelfth, 1970 at 7:12am, graduated from Garfield High School in 1989,” Spencer said as if reporting the weather, her eyes narrowing in on him all the more coldly, “She attended Chesapeake Bay University and speaks six languages, as I expect you do from moving so often with your mother. She coined your nickname Bugsy from your childhood love of ladybugs, which she said you grew out of by the time you turned eleven yet the name stuck, though you still like counting the spots to identify their species. Your parents split when you were five and your father moved in with his now wife, born September ninth-”

“Alright- alright. What are you, living in her walls?” She interrupted incredulously, before turning her attention to Derek who seemed to hide a chuckle with a cough. “Either you really are a stripper or you’re a terrible friend,”

“She loves Kurt Vonnegut,” Derek held his finger as if to prove her entirely wrong, although not much else came to him. Maybe he was a bad friend, he thought guiltily, or maybe he simply lacked an eidetic memory like the wonder boy next to him, who had been about to tell her how old she was when Emily’s pet betta fish died, “Slaughterhouse 5?”

Rolling her eyes, she grunted at them, kicking her door open for them to enter. 

“Everyone loves Vonnegut; only losers under a rock dislike Vonnegut,” She drawled, edging back into her room, the heavy bass rock growing in volume as they followed her in, “I’ll be ready in a second- Emily’s always bugging me about wearing pants,” She said vaguely, scanning around the dirty dorm, until she found one particular pair of jeans laying half under her bed, quickly yanking them up her legs. “Come in, come in.” 

She flicked the speakers way down to which Spencer took a breath of relief. His eyes fell to the laptop that had been set up on her desk, the five different textbooks littered around the spare space, energy drinks and empty mugs filling the cracks where he could barely see the generic white of the table top, his nose crinkling. About as gross as he’d expect from a college student. 

“Emily said your Russian was pretty good,” Derek made conversation, his eyes wandering over the various posters plastered over her walls, some fraying round the edges from where she had likely been moved from bedroom to bedroom when the Prentiss’s inevitably had to move country again. 

“Yeah,” She snarked, pulling a nicer top over her head, “Kinda tends to happen when you live in Russia,”

Morgan raised his eyebrows to Spencer who seemed to give him the same look back, though the latter was biting back a snicker at her words. 

How in the hell was she the Ambassador’s daughter?

–

“This all involves Russian Mafia, it’s really beefed up here the last ten years or so,” Agent Cramer, a tall, slim man who looked entirely overwhelmed by the workload on his shoulders reported, as she listened intently. 

She had been somewhat de-briefed in the car, Emily messaging her for the first time since Christmas, the message a simple: “Have you met with Morgan and Reid yet? Make sure to put on pants,” to which she sent her a thumbs up emoji. She didn’t have much to say to her at the moment, barely even knew her sister anymore. 

“It started off mainly in New York and LA but they send lieutenants from the old country,” Cramer went on, and she caught Reid scratching his arm beneath his shirt. She knew it was mozzy weather, and he was already under the blaring sun in a little sweater, it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt a bit prickly. 

“Pahkans,” She interrupted, the man named Gideon shooting her a glance as she dug through her purse. 

“Your Mom do much work about the Mafia?” He asked, as she produced a clear nail varnish. 

“Here and there, I had to sit with her in her office for a whole Summer once when I got caught sneaking out. Picked up a few things, though,” She said, holding the polish out to Spencer, nodding to his arm, “Here. Supposed to help bug bites,”

He looked at her as if he wanted to say something, perhaps question her sources for such an old wives tale, but he stopped himself quickly, taking the varnish out of her hand with a dejected nod. 

“Thankyou,” He muttered, shoving it in his pocket. 

Three months he’d been in this rabbit hole. She had noticed it in a matter of hours. 

“They open up branch offices in other cities. Baltimore, Saint Louis, Chicago, Dallas, the list goes on,” Cramer added, nodding at her words, “They’re mainly offshoots of the Odessa Mafia and they’re especially tough to crack from a law enforcement standpoint. I mean beside being well organised with sophisticated technical equipment, there’s Vory v Zakone to contend with,” 

“The thieves code, eighteen principles they live by,” Reid jumped in before she could, to which she nodded as Gideon looked to her for more. 

“It means ‘thief in law’, or ‘thief with code’. It's a system of repeatedly jailed convicts that have been crowned or ‘made’ with a strict list of ideals, breaking them usually means death,” She explained, kicking a stone between her feet. 

“It’s like bible to these guys. We’re not gonna be turning any of them informer anytime soon,” Cramer said. Gideon seemed to tune the three of them out however, his gaze locking on the house across the street, where a curtain twitched, and a man’s face appeared in the window, watching the crime scene with guilt. 

“Then we’ll need a witness who will talk,” Gideon replied, heading straight towards the neighbour who seemed just a little too invested in what was happening, much more than a concerned third party should be. Though, she had barely noticed, digging through her purse once more for chapstick. 

“So, you study Russian or something?” Cramer asked as she applied it gently, Spencer swore he could smell the cherry flavour from where he stood beside her. 

“I lived in Moscow until I was six, moved back to France, then back to Italy, then Algeria for a bit. Bounced around Europe for a bit longer, but I still speak better Russian than anything else,” She clarified, and she saw Cramer’s eyebrows shoot up, “Military brat except I don’t get the cool discount at the store,” 

“You must have had a lot of friends though, going to so many schools,” Spencer added, and though there was nothing teasing about his tone, she laughed sharply anyway. 

“You’re funny,” She snarked, but smiled at him anyway.

Spencer had never been called funny in his life. ‘Funny looking’, ‘funny sounding’ maybe, but never funny. 

In fact he was so confused by what she had meant, whether it had been a taunt or genuine that he almost missed the sound of the whole street locking their front doors, dead bolting their lives away when a black prius, an expensive one at that, pulled through the street and swerved into park next to them. 

“Guess who,” Cramer bit, her eyes ripping away from where Gideon had the door slammed in his face. 

Detective Cramer aged by about five years when two tall men got out of the luxury car, opening the door for a shorter man in the back seat, their faces thunder. 

“You familiar with them?” She asked, shoulder brushing against Spencer as she turned to watch the men approach, entirely aware of the .9mm on each of their hips. 

“Arseny Lysowsky,” The detective identified, his voice cold, eyeing the two men who flanked the leader, towering over them. 

“Agent Cramer, how are you?” Lysowsky smiled at him, which oddly enough seemed somewhat real, as he also took stock of the three other people around him. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, noting her lack of gun and badge, trying to decipher if she was local or just a very unprepared fed. 

“Lysowsky, what brings you out?” Cramer asked, a tightness to his tone, his hand all too eager to grab his own pistol. 

“I heard Chernuses had problems,” He kept it vague, didn’t reveal too much, and looked back at the victim’s house with a scorned frown. 

“How did you hear that?” Gideon challenged, stance unwavering as the mob leader turned to meet his cold gaze. 

“And you are?” He asked, a sinister smile on his face that flipped her stomach. She didn’t like the tension that had overcome the little patch of sidewalk they took up, and she was quick to notice how Spencer moved towards her. 

He, by far, wasn’t the best shot on the team, but he was sure Hotch and Prentiss would have his and Morgan’s heads if any harm came to her. 

“Churneses said they hadn’t told anyone,” Agent Gideon ignored his question, hands firmly planted on his hips. If he was unnerved by the criminal in front of him, he never showed it, not even when Lysowsky’s grin widened horribly. 

“It is a small community. Word gets out,” He said simply, looking past him to the neighbours house that had kicked Gideon to the curb, “Are you a friend of Gorban’s?”

A second of silence passed between them, neither of them backing down from the moral standoff they’d engaged in. 

“Mr Gorban wouldn’t talk to me,” Gideon admitted, and Arseny only smiled again, flicking a look at the house behind him, as if hearing his dog had obeyed without command. 

“Would you like me to talk to him for you?” The threat was there clear as day, clear enough to have Gideon’s eyes narrow, “I can’t promise something will come of it,” 

“You!” In a second, Natalya, the victim she’d briefly met when Morgan had pulled up around an hour before, had stormed out of her house, her black kitten heels clicking against the concrete, “Where’s my father? He has my father!” 

“Wait a minute,” Derek called, restraining her where she stood, trying to pull his muscled arm from her shoulder, “Do you know he has your father?” 

“He’s responsible for all of this,” She spat, her eyes cold as she glared at the three men with vitriol hate, “Why everyone’s afraid, him and his animals,” She threw a hand up to his bodyguards that seemed barely contained by Cramer’s silencing hand. 

“I am only here to help,” Lysowsky replied, confident and calm in his words, though not as taunting as the agents would have thought, as if he truly cared for her.

A vast difference to the sadistic mob boss Cramer’s team had painted him to be. 

“Help?” She laughed woefully, tears in her eyes, “You’re a dog,” 

“Natalya,” Arseny said in a warning, the way a teacher would to a student, as her breath rattled in her chest through a weep. 

“How exactly can you help them?” Bugsy braved to speak, Gideon and Reid both flashing her a look. She’d always had trouble holding her tongue. 

Lysowsky turned his attention to her then, his eyes running down her figure, still deciphering whether she was armed; she looked much too young to be an agent. 

“In any way that they’d like me to, darling,” He replied, the disdain in her frown clearly not deterring him in the slightest, though again the act of concern held up in his own grimace, “As I said this is a small community. If one is in pain, we’re all in pain.”

Natalya weeped behind Morgan, sniffling as the boss made his way over to her, “Natalya, [you didn’t have to bring in outsiders],” 

The younger woman’s ears pricked up as he spoke in his native language, Spencer’s eyes flicking to her from behind his sunglasses. 

“[Let me help you],” He continued, taking a step towards Natalya, unthreatening yet she saw Morgan tense, his fingers twitching towards his gun. 

“[My family will never come to you for help],” Natalya hissed back, also in Russian, her face contorted in disgust, “[Get away from my house],” 

“[You are not right, Natalya],” He replied, yet again the concern in his eyes was either genuine or very well faked, “[You have made the wrong decision],” 

Taking a step away from the victim that wept with a scorned sneer, he looked back to the agents, noting the way the youngest of them glared at him hotly, before retreating to his car. 

“What did he say? Did he threaten you, Natalya?” Morgan asked, the woman watching the group of men drive away, as if Mr Chernus wasn’t still missing and they hadn’t just bumped themselves up to number one of the suspects list. “Talk to us and we can do something about it,”

“He said I made the wrong decision,” She said wetly, frustration turning on Derek as he pushed her for an answer, “I hope I didn’t,” 

With that she stormed off back into her house, the same stomping of her kitten heels in her wake, leaving the agents to all look between one another before they simultaneously turned to look at Bugsy, questions hovering on all of their lips. 

“What did he say exactly?” Gideon asked without frills, a hand rubbing his brow. Relaying the information, the men’s faces all drew into frowns as they heard Lysowsky’s parting statement. Gideon huffed, turning to Morgan and gesturing for him to follow Natalya inside. 

“Morgan, keep an eye on her, Reid and I are going to Cramer’s office to look over the files,” He looked at her then, worry lines littering his otherwise friendly face, damn near scowling as she looked over at him, “You are here to interpret, you understand? You do not speak to the suspects, that’s our job.” He growled, watching her with disappointment, the same tone a father used when scolding a petulant child, “Do you have any idea how much danger you could put yourself in? These guys won’t hesitate to take you out the second we’re not around, kid,” 

“But-” She started with a bite, though her whole fight left her when he silenced her with a raised hand. 

“Buts are for cigarettes, kiddo,” He interrupted, and Spencer winced slightly, knowing he’d heard that one a few hundred times when he’d first started under Gideon and had yet to mature entirely. Reid watched something rebellious flare in her eyes, and he worried for a moment she might just slap his boss for the patronising tone he took, “Just keep your mouth shut, you’re doing great so far,” 

She opened her mouth to protest, only to then register his words entirely and stay silent once more, appreciating his praise with a guilty smile. For once, she listened. 

–

The grandfather clock chimed to tell them it was merely 11am; two hours until the unsub would start cutting more if they didn’t get the ransom fee, two hours to figure out who wanted Natalya’s family to suffer. 

Said woman paced her living room at the sound of the hour, as Bugsy picked over the knick knacks on her fireplace, a small smile teasing her lips when she saw a picture of three small children grinning toothily at the camera. 

She had never gotten any photo’s similar, Emily being fourteen years older. The majority of their childhood photos consisted of a very grumpy teenager holding her baby sister that seemed to squirm in the tight, formal dresses Elizabeth Prentiss had forced them into, identical scowls on their faces as they were made to sit for the picture. 

There were some good memories, ones where Emily let herself be a sister and not a mom, where she would put makeup on her for fun and do her hair, let her have all the clothes out her wardrobe she thought looked nice, reading to her before bed, even letting her sister keep her pet corn snake when she left home for good. 

But now, it seemed like she was too caught up in her super serious grown up job to give a shit that her sister lived just an hour away. Still messaged each other for holidays, but the last few times she’d braved a call to the eldest Prentiss, it had gone unanswered. They argued the majority of the time they spoke, or there was an awkward long silence in between words, whichever was worse, but they each knew the other would come running if they were to ever need them so desperately. 

“Are you hungry? I could make something?” Natalya offered kindly, Derek having a poke through her collection of books that sat on the end table, though he’d have a tough job reading them as she’d already caught most of them were in her home language. 

“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine,” He replied with a small smile, putting down the books to calm the clearly on edge woman that looked to the twenty-something year old hopefully. 

She shook her head, “I’m good, thanks,” which seemed to deflate her entirely as she sat next to Derek with a sigh.

“I guess I’m like my mother. When she’s upset, she cooks,” Natalya said with a sad huff of a laugh, running a hand through her short, dark hair. 

“Yeah, mine does too. I think that’s just a mom thing,” He replied, and Bugsy felt the two of them look at her as her finger traced the old brass ornaments gently, “How about you, baby Prentiss?” 

She snorted, “You’re kidding, right?” smiling bitterly, “My mom never cooked for us, she said we needed to figure it out for ourselves rather than relying on the staff. Didn’t stop her from trying to end world hunger though,” 

It wasn’t lost to Morgan the way her eyes trained on the picture of Natalya and her mother, cuddled together with genuine love in their embrace, the snarky humour as she spoke, the same longing Emily seemed almost too good at hiding from them. 

“Your mother is a great woman,” Natalya complimented, though she missed the way the girl’s face steeled over, chewing her bottom lip as if to stop herself from snapping at the woman who meant well. She said nothing. “Where is your mother?” She turned her attention back to Derek who seemed the more talkative of the two of them. 

“Chicago. That’s where I’m from,” He replied, watching Bugsy turn away from the two of them to inspect more of the Chernus’s trinkets on their walls. 

“I’m from Dolgoprudny. Just North of Moscow.” Natalya replied. Opening her mouth to add something else, she was cut off by a knock at the door and the three of them froze in their place. 

“Are you expecting someone?” Morgan asked Natalya in a hushed tone, reaching for his gun and heading for the door. 

She shook her head, “No,” She whispered back. Morgan pulled the curtain back the smallest inch to see a small blonde boy staring back, a box in his hands and a bored look on his face. 

It all happened too fast from there, Natalya opening the door for the neighbourhood kid, opening the box to see a decapitated ear, the blood fresh and pooling in the bottom of the box. It couldn’t have been taken longer than an hour or so ago, unless they were keeping the parts on ice. 

Bugsy’s hand slapped over her mouth, Natalya’s scream piercing through her as she shoved the box into Derek’s hands, fleeing to the toilet, and she heard the woman retching. Part of her felt the same nausea settle in her stomach, looking away from the body part with a wince as Derek got straight on the phone to Gideon. 

“They didn’t wait, man. They sent a box with-” He swallowed thickly, “With Mr Chernus’s ear inside.”

Gideon replied, and whatever it was, it had Derek looking back to her. He agreed, hanging up the phone and rooting through his pockets, producing a set of rattling keys, holding them out for you between the tips of his fingers. 

“Gideon wants you, kid. He said they’re at the Little Kiev restaurant, they’re going to talk to Lysowsky,” Morgan said, grimacing as he held the ear away from her, “You sure you’ll be okay to drive?” 

“I’d rather be on the road than look at what’s in that box,” She said in disgust, taking the keys and heading out to the car.

She thought it best for everyone she didn’t tell him she hadn’t yet got her licence as she made her way over to the restaurant. 

-

“Reid and I will do the talking, just see if anything he’s saying connects with Vory v zakone, think you got that?” Gideon instructed her the second she got out of the car, taking the keys and handing them back to Reid who gave her a small nod. 

“We think the reason it was Mr Chernus who was targeted has something to do with the code,” Reid explained, his hands in his pockets as the three of them approached the restaurant, “You said earlier you understood the tenants,” 

“Why me, though? I thought I was just translating?” She repeated Gideon’s earlier words, almost cocky that they needed her.

“Lysowsky would feel the need to show face in front of men like Morgan and Cramer, even in front of Natalya since she lives locally. Between the three of us, he had less reputation to uphold, less so with a young woman like yourself,” Reid added, holding the door open for her to go in front. 

And so there she was, trailing behind Gideon and Reid over to where Lysowsky sipped a spoonful of borscht, as she tried not to marvel at the grandeur of the establishment inside. Clearly, Arsney had money to build a place like this, and wasn’t afraid to be flashy about it either, that much was apparent from the other clientele that tended to their beers around their own tables, Rolex watches and designer shoes adorning nearly every one of them. She hated to think of how many ears or fingers those suits had cost. 

“Would you like something to eat?” He asked, a chunk of bread in his hand dipping into the thick sauce, seemingly unbothered that they were there, “This borscht is exquisite, it’s my mother’s old country recipe,” 

“Didn’t you forsake all your relatives when you swore the thieves code?” Reid asked, which she guessed was hit foot in to get Lysowsky to talk. 

“I didn’t forsake her recipes,” Lysowsky replied with a shrug, looking to her where she seemed to be staring at his plate, “Borscht?” 

She shook her head, her nose wrinkling, “Much preferred stroganoff, mom used to force me to have borscht to make sure I ate my veggies,”  

His eyebrows raised, surprise written over his face, before he gave a short laugh. 

“[Where are you from]?” He asked in his mother tongue, gesturing for the three of them to sit down, though his eyes lit up as he watched her carefully. 

“[I was born in DC, but my mother worked in Moscow for a few years],” She answered shortly, and he seemed to find it even funnier that the near child they’d brought along on their case spoke as fluently as he did. 

Laughing with a heavy hand smacking on the table, he gestured to a nearby waiting staff to come over. 

“What are you having then, borscht for the gentle man?” He looked at Reid and Gideon, the former shaking his head while Gideon nodded with an awkward smile. 

“I’d love a taste,” He said, though any enthusiasm seemed to have drained out of his voice. 

“And what is the little lady having?” Lysowsky asked, his eyes falling back to her, as she straightened in her seat. 

She chanced a quick glance to Gideon, who nodded at her to play his game. She had not expected to be so deep in criminal territory when they’d said they needed a translator, and truly they hadn’t planned on getting her in the field until they realised she would know much more about this than they would.

“Do you have sharlotka?” She asked, returning his smile wearily as he clicked at the waiter who all but bolted to the kitchen. 

“A sweet tooth. I like it,” Arseny replied, shovelling a heap of beets into his mouth, “Our favourite was always Leningradsky,”

“Ours?” She prompted, giving a polite thanks to the waiter who returned too quickly with a slice of cake. She caught Spencer glancing at the bowl with intrigue, the hunger clear on the quiet man’s face. Gently pushing the bowl and clean spoon towards him, he flicked a look up at her, “Apple cake,” She whispered, sending him a small smile, “Really yummy with the sugar on top,” 

“Mine and my mother’s,” Arseny replied, though Gideon and Reid both caught how he paused before he replied, as if he had to think about the answer he was giving; the oldest tell that it wasn’t entirely true, “We didn’t have much when I was a boy, but that was always our dessert of choice,” 

She stopped for a mere second, missing the moment when Spencer spooned the tiniest bite of the cake into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his tongue exploded in the sweet, fruit taste. He hadn’t eaten anything properly in days, and maybe that was why it tasted so good, but more likely it was just the fact that everything sweet tasted even better when he was on his come downs. 

“We need to talk, Arseny,” Gideon interrupted, ignoring the way Spencer pined to go back in for a second mouthful, but chose to hand the bowl back to her with a small smile. 

“We are on first name basis?” Lysowsky asked, shaking his head, and she took a small bite of the sweet cake for herself, “I still don’t even know who you are,” 

“I think I understand something about this,” Gideon replied, his thumbs tapping together, the waiter returning with his borscht, “You have a problem,” 

“I do?” The pahkan titled his head at the agent, the annoyance clear on his face. 

“That’s why you came to the Chernus’ house this morning,” Gideon answered, unbothered as he began to scoop the borscht onto the spoon, the apple cake in her own mouth going down a treat. 

She kept her head down, took tiny bites of the dessert that certainly tasted like a fresh baked sharlotka. But her thoughts lingered on what Lysowsky had said, about his own favourite pudding. 

It made no sense that he would have ever tasted Leningradsky shortbread, not for the time that he was born, nor with the amount of money he claimed his family lacked. Infact, the way he fully pronounced his vowels, the akanye, the stress he put on certain parts of his words, all pointed to the same dialect you’d heard back in Moscow, more central than anything else. 

So how on earth would he have eaten the so-called ‘Royal Cake’ that had only been made eight hours from there, in the town it grew its name from. 

There was something glaringly obvious about his story missing. 

“A man like me?” She tuned back into the conversation, swallowing another mouthful down as Gideon took another bite himself, though it seemed the topic had turned sour as Arseny wiped his mouth with the corner of his napkin. 

“Four watchtowers and a convict signifies a stay in prison,” Spencer cut in, nodding towards the tattoos branded across his knuckles, “Each one of those crosses symbolises an individual sentence,” 

“Twenty three years in prison in the Ural mountains,” 

But she was still stuck on what it was she was missing. It had been such an odd thing to lie about, particularly when he’d even admitted himself that they hadn’t had much money, so he clearly hadn’t been lying to fake a reputation. 

So why lie?

She was ripped out of her stumped silence when Natalya entered the restaurant, her voice grabbing the men’s attention immediately. 

“Mr Lysowsky. You said you could help me,” She said, her purse over her shoulder and her own car keys gripped tightly in her hand as if she’d all but thrown herself out the vehicle to get there faster. 

“Don’t you already have help,” Lysowsky snapped, clearly Gideon had dug under his skin enough to garner a reaction. 

“I made a mistake,” Natalya replied, barely meeting Bugsy’s gaze as she stared at her from her seat at the table. “I talked to my father on the phone,” 

The girl frowned at her, “That’s a lie,” It came out before she could hold herself, brows furrowed at whatever it was she was trying to pull. Gideon said her name in a reprimand, though he too was looking at the woman as if she’d grown a second head. 

“Thankyou for coming, but I don’t need your help,” The woman met her confused look with a saddened expression, nodding to her solemnly. 

Leave it alone, she seemed to be saying, there’s nothing more I want you to do. 

And with that, the two of them left the restaurant, Natalya walking by his side obediently, her purse tucked in close under her arm, as Morgan and Cramer filed in from the parking lot, watching their only leads drive away without a fight. 

–

The team were quick to head back to Natalya’s home, only to find the ear missing and the finger gone too, the only evidence left of any crime being committed leaving with the victim’s daughter herself. 

“She’s not here, and the garbage was never taken out,” Morgan said with a grimace as he walked down the front steps to meet the four of them on the sidewalk. 

“Her dad just went missing, surely we can cut the girl some slack-” Bugsy words were hidden in a huff, rolling your eyes at the man who cut a glance to her. 

“No, no. When Hotch first talked to us, he said she noticed her father’s car in the driveway when she took the garbage out,” Morgan explained, his shades blocking the way the cogs turned behind his dark eyes. 

“Right?” Reid asked, his own sunglasses now covering his eyes that winced at the brightness, surrounding them.

“Garbage can in the kitchen is completely full, she never took it out.” 

“She lied,” Gideon said with finality, the penny beginning to drop for him too. 

“She could be half way back to Dolgo-whatever by now,” Morgan scoffed, his arms smacking against his side as the lightbulb went off over her head, the final puzzle piece falling into place. 

“Dolgoprudny?” Spencer asked, exchanging a glance with Cramer, “Isn’t that where Lysowsky’s from-”

“Yes, YES, of course!” She exclaimed, grabbing onto Spencer’s arm as he spoke. 

He looked at her with wide eyes, not that she could see since his shades blocked the way, only to feel her shake him harder in the midst of her enthusiasm. Part of him wanted to rip his arm out of her grip, waiting for the sickness to crawl up his throat at a strangers germs touching him, but the oddest part of him reasoned she had the same germs as Emily did, that the fifty percent DNA the women shared negated the fact she was a stranger, just as it did when he met Jack. Jack had Hotch germs. Bugsy had Emily’s. He didn’t feel so sick thinking of it like that. 

“I knew I was missing something,” She said, turning to Gideon, “He was lying before, about his favourite dessert. There was no way he could have had Leningradsky with his mother. Given his age, at that time in Soviet Russia, shortbread was incredibly expensive, only extremely wealthy families could have eaten it. That, and given the Central dialect he speaks in, I’d pinpointed he lives somewhere near or around Moscow, which means there was no way he was eating that cake considering it was only ever baked in one shop at first, one way up in Leningrad, where St Petersburg is now, like nine hours away from Moscow-” 

“What’s your point?” Cramer asked, tired of the somewhat slew of thoughts she’d been saving until she knew for sure what she meant. 

“Before when he said it was ‘our favourite’, I don’t think he was talking about him and his mother,” She explained, looking to see if Spencer at least understood what she was getting at. 

“It was him and his own child…” Spencer finished, as Morgan’s phone began ringing.

“Yeah, what?” He asked, the frustration clear in his tone that they were all still without the evidence needed to pin it on Lysowsky, “You’re sure? Uh-huh. Okay, thanks doll,” 

The four of them looked at him expectantly as he nodded to her, “Garcia just got into the bank’s system, somebody wired 500 thousand dollars into the account ten minutes ago,”

“Who wired it?” Spencer asked, though he was still reeling from the way she’d touched him, the way her voice went up about five octaves and a dozen decibels.

“She didn’t say, but the name on the account is Lyov Fulenko. She says that’s Lysowsky’s wife’s maiden name. Fulenko.” Morgan replied, and her brows furrowed. 

“Why did she bring us into this?” Gideon asked, though the solemn look on his face said he already knew, “Because she needed to put pressure on the other victim,” 

Gideon headed towards Mr Gorban’s house once more, though it was clear he had already sketched out in his head who was their unsub and Natalya’s involvement, he simply needed the confirmation. 

Morgan clapped a hand on her back, “Nice job, baby Prentiss. Those were some mean profiling skills out there,”

She frowned at him, scoffing,  “I’m not a profiler, that’s Emily’s job. It was just basic linguistics really; more a display of how I need to lay off cake for a while.”

The man kissed his teeth with a grin, “Don’t put yourself down. What’s your degree even in?”

She shrugged, picking under her nails for something to do, “Individualised genomics and health.” She said as if it were child’s play, though Spencer’s head shot to her. 

“Biotechnology?” He asked, and she glanced at him with a nod, “What’s your thesis on?” 

Gideon had returned by the time he’s asked, and began corralling the two of them back to the car, “We’re heading back to the restaurant. We need to speak with Lysowsky again,” 

But it had fallen on deaf ears as Spencer looked at her expectantly. 

“Just some new research into prenatal screening, nothing too fun,” She simpered, climbing into the back seat as he nodded with her. 

“I read a fascinating paper on the uses of hCG in a woman’s body-” 

“Reid,” Gideon cut him off with a short glance from the front seat, “Continue this conversation once we’ve found Mr Chernus alive,” 

Spencer blushed, feeling like a kid caught in the cookie jar, “Sorry, sir,” He looked over at her, only to see her hiding a smile to herself. 

He thinks it was then he’d decided Emily had been wrong about her.

-

“You paid the ransom already,” Gideon said plainly, the four of them trailing behind him as he followed Lysowsky to a small seating area in the front of the restaurant. She could tell the whole way Spencer had been itching to ask her more questions about her paper, barely contained as his fingers had twitched in his lap, but he seemed to straighten himself out once she’d reached the restaurant, “You paid all the ransoms,”

“Sit,” The boss ordered, barely glancing at them as he held his strong whiskey up.

“Are they going to kill Mr Chernus?” Morgan asked, cutting to the chase as Lysowsky spared him a bored glance.

“No,” He replied shortly, the look on his face about as grumpy as when they’d left. 

“The account is in the name of Lyov Fulenko. Lyov is a man’s name.” Spencer input, crossing his arms as the boss glared at him, “A son’s name. Vory v Zakone. Never have a family of your own. No wife. No children.”

“Lyov,” He looked at her then, gesturing to her with the glass of strong liquor, “You know what it means?”

“The Lion,” She replied gravely, steeling herself against his dark eyes. 

“No one else would be so stupid,” Lysowsky ran a hand over his weathered face, swigging his drink as if it was the only thing keeping him talking. “At first it didn’t mean much. It was a way of letting him earn his own money. I could afford it, it came from the fund. And no one questions the use of the fund-”

“Where is he?” Gideon asked, his elbows on his knees as he leaned in.

“What else could I do?” He was ignored, “I couldn’t admit I wasn’t blessing the kidnappings, I couldn’t even admit my son existed.” He huffed when he saw Gideon’s face unmoving from the glower, his question still unanswered, “Chernus will be home in a few minutes. You should be there, he will need medical attention,” He shooed them away, with his final words, drink sloshing in his hand. His face darkened, impossibly so, and the five of them looked at him, something sad and remorseful shining back. 

“What are you gonna do?” She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer. 

“Vory v Zakone.” He said heavily, nodding to her, “We take care of our own troubles.”

It was a silent journey back to the Chernus’ house. 

-

Morgan and Reid pulled up to the campus, the younger girl in the back seat almost dozing off with the rhythmic hum of the engine, the evening sun much nicer on Spencer’s sensitive eyes. 

“This is you, baby Prentiss,” Derek’s voice jolted her out of the half sleep she was in, straightening herself from where she had her head pressed against the window. 

“Thanks,” She muttered, rubbing her eyes and unbuckling herself as they did the same, assuming they wanted to walk her back to her dorm since it had gotten dark, “I’ll be okay on my own, campus security should be out by now,”

“You sure?” Reid asked, flicking his watch up to his eyes to see the meagre 6:13pm staring back at him, “I thought they started at 7,”

She blinked at him, her eyebrows quirking for a moment, “How do you know that?”

“Johns Hopkins was my backup option- well actually it was my third, I much preferred Caltech’s curriculum, Yale was my second-” He started, flicking a glance to her where she waited for him to finish, “Not that Johns was bad, there were just better- alternative options out there-” 

“Don’t shit your pants, I’m hardly the dean of the university,” She chuckled indignantly patting them both on the shoulder before sliding over to open the door, “Nice meeting you both, I’ll just get back to my mediocre college with my poor curriculum, nothing like the solid gold bathrooms at Caltech-”

“I never said that!” She laughed again, with her whole chest, at his defensive tone as she stepped out the car, hand on the door to shut it behind her. 

Leaning down to give them both a wave goodbye, Derek’s voice stopped her again, “Baby Prentiss, do us all a favour and enrol yourself into forensics, we need more people on our team,”

Smirking at him, she shook her head, “Very funny. Never gonna happen. I like my little slides and samples, thankyou,” 

Slamming the door on the two of them she headed for the front gates, swinging her purse over her shoulder. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, and she quickly realised she’d been too tired to even realise a set of footsteps jogging after her. 

Maybe she should have taken that walk home after all. 

Whirling around, her eyes widened as Spencer had clearly not been leader of the track team as he was half out of breath just from the few feet he’d covered, though she reckoned she could have guessed that seeing his lean ribs beneath his shirt.

He shoved a business card in her face as he caught his breath, though it was more just his name and credentials followed by a phone number. 

“I-I don’t have email otherwise I would-” He huffed, scratching his forehead as she frowned and looked at him.

“I’ve never been hit on via business card before,” She bit her lip with a smile, reading over the card again as he choked on his words even more than before.

“N-no, I-” He spluttered, ignoring the way Morgan beeped the horn for him, seemingly in a debate with a ticket metre that had caught him parked on yellow, “If you needed us for anything, or if you needed a second pair of eyes for your thesis, I’m happy to help,”

“You don’t have faith in the dummy that got into Johns?” She asked, and his head couldn’t shake fast enough, though he seemed to catch her teasing and shared her smile, “Thanks, Dr Reid,” 

“Spencer’s just fine,” He said, giving her a small nod and a wave as Morgan’s palm bounced on the horn a dozen times. She flashed him one more smile, pocketing his number and heading back to her dorm, wondering what the doctor would think about the paper due in tomorrow she’d yet to get started on.

+1. The one where you get arrested.

The case had been heavy. They’d felt it in the car on the way back to headquarters. A little girl, molested and groomed by her own uncle, his own wife covering for him. 

His mother always told him love makes you do crazy things, but Spencer hoped that whatever part of him worth loving would at least stay sane by the time he found the one. He was loyal to his team, to his mother, but that was where he drew the line. He was loyal to his family, undoubtedly so. 

Yet so was Emily. 

The call came to the second SUV, her phone set up to hands free mode, quickly flicking to answer the call on speaker, the other half of the team ahead of them on the freeway. 

“Prentiss, speaking. Who is this?” She spoke clearly to the unknown number, her knuckles going white at the wheel when she heard a nervous laugh.

“It’s me,” Her sister mumbled through the speaker, “You wouldn’t by any chance be near DC would you?” 

She huffed, cursing the knack Prentiss women had for showing up at the worst times. 

“Can’t this wait, I’m on the clock,” Emily hissed, her finger edging towards the ‘End Call’ button, “I’ll call you after,”

“Wait, wait, don’t hang up!” As if sensing her movements, she all but screeched, “This was my one phone call, they won’t let me have another,” 

The car went silent for a moment, Spencer’s eyes narrowing on the dash from his place in the passenger seat, JJ also leaning forward from the back with a frown. 

Emily grit her teeth, her upper lip twitching the way it did when she was mad. 

“What do you mean by one phone call? Where are you?” She bit in a cautious tone, though knowing how reckless Bugsy tended to be, she had a pretty good idea. 

The hesitation on the other end of the line was palpable, as was the way she awkwardly cleared her throat. 

“Fairfax County Jail,” She murmured sheepishly, “But it wasn’t my fault, these assholes don’t know what they’re talking about, I swear-”

“Stay there and keep your mouth shut,” Emily ordered, her expression furrowing into a sneer, “And for the love of god don’t antagonise the officers,” 

The agent didn’t even wait for a response, knowing it would probably be something snarky, her mind already racing at what the hell her sister could have done this time, every worst possible explanation jumping to the forefront. 

“I’ll call Hotch and tell him to turn around,” JJ offered, her fingers already searching her contacts for their boss, as Emily sighed through her nose. 

“Tell him not to worry, I’ll drop you guys back to headquarters, make my way there myself,” She said, picking the skin of her nail softly with her thumb. 

“By the time we’ve reached Quantico, visiting times will be over and she’ll have to stay the night,” Spencer pointed out, his own surprise evident. Sure, she had certainly been a personality when they had met, but a criminal seemed a stretch. 

“Maybe it would teach her a lesson,” Emily mused, shaking her head to herself, “Who am I kidding, that psycho would Shawshank her way out of there by dawn,”

“You don’t actually think she would hurt anyone do you?” JJ said, the dial tone ringing out from the phone she held to her ear. 

“Wouldn’t put it past her. She once cut a girl's pigtail off for wearing the same dress as her on her birthday,” Emily winced as Spencer’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. 

“I thought getting swirlied was bad,” He muttered, watching out the window as Emily made a U-turn at the traffic lights. He and the now twenty three year old had been bouncing research papers back and forth for a few months, the odd one every week, Bugsy even once joking it was much more interesting and riveting than foreplay, which had his face red hot at his desk.

She was like that, he’d quickly realised, had a vulgar sort of humour about her, yet he couldn’t help the snigger that came out whenever he’d receive one of his papers back through the mail with pink writing scrawled all over his ideas. The little hearts that dotted her exclamations whenever she wrote “AMAZING!”, the odd time she’d written “sexy ideas, doctor Reid” which he’d come to understand meant it was really good. He’d even gotten back the drawing at the end of the paper of a stickman of the two of them, his hair a curly scribble and a purple tie which told him immediately who was who, her line of a hand pointing at his caricature with the speech bubble, “everyone point and wave at the smart man,” which had made him laugh. 

She was odd, toeing the line between childish and witty, nothing like the scholars he usually worked with, and the writing he usually sent back on her papers were all in standard black ink, his own pharmacist handwriting staring back at him as he crammed in his every thought of her research into the margins. If she couldn’t read it, she hadn’t said, but he liked to think she took notice of it all, even if it wasn’t strewn with stars and doodles and the occasional flirt he knew meant nothing. He knew her from her writing, knew her from her ideas that sometimes kept him up at night thinking more about them, but the two of them hadn’t spoken directly, most certainty hadn’t seen one another since that day with the Chernus’.

Emily hummed, fingers drumming on the wheel, entirely unaware of the thoughts rattling around in Spencer’s head, then again that’s how it always was, “I just pray to god she’s listened to me for once in her damn life and keeps quiet,”

-

“Fucking bitch. The nuns in Moscow hit harder than you,” She spat, blood dribbling from her split lip. She wasn’t entirely lying, but god did her mouth sing with pain as she tried to muffle a moan. 

“You got jokes, pig lover?” The other woman asked, a tattoo covering half her cheek, her nose crooked from the shiner the Prentiss girl had already given her. “Won’t be fucking laughing when I’m done, bitch,” The woman was quick to tackle the girl around her stomach, slamming her into the hard concrete of the holding cell. Bugsy felt her skull rattle, the wind whooshing from her chest as rough hands grab her shirt and pin her down harder. 

The younger girl reached the nerve under her opponent's armpit, the soft of her ribs, twisting until the woman gave a bark of shock, and she took the opportunity to shove her off, climbing on top of her as they both scrambled for some sort of control.

“I got one for you. What’s got a broken nose, a black eye and doesn’t know what’s good for her?” She swung twice as hard, the other women in the cell rattling against the bars as if watching a matador taunt a bull, the air thick with excitement as the two of them cursed eachother out.

Emily’s sigh was audible across the room as the wardens separated the cat fight, the largest of the officers all but grabbing her sister by the scruff of the neck like a feral beast, dragging her over with stubborn feet to where the BAU stood in the lobby, eyes widened at the state of her. 

“You better start acting your age, little girl. Mommy’s not gonna be around forever to save you,” The officer hissed in her ear, manhandling her over to where Emily glared daggers into the side of her head. She knew that look, it was eerily similar to mom’s that time she’d been caught sneaking out of the house, something in the warm brown of Emily’s eyes frosting over into a cold blackness. Fury. 

She chewed her words for a moment, waiting until the man had turned around with a grunt of acknowledgement to the badge Emily had flashed to get his attention, before she spoke. 

“She’s not my mom, she's my sister, dumbass-” Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, gripping her shoulder with the bear-like strength her jagged nails possessed when she was mad, the scoff of disgrace leaving her mouth as her team trailed behind the two of them. 

“What the hell happened, baby Prentiss?” Morgan asked, ignoring the way Emily’s heated gaze turned on him, “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Don’t entertain her, Morgan,” Emily seethed, all but shoving her into the back of the SUV. She looked up at her sister with an open mouth, the guilt flashing in her eyes as she wavered under the pointing finger Emily jabbed in her face, “Don't you even dare,” 

“But-” She stammered, cut off when she saw the glare intensified, if that had even been possible. 

“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day unless you’re prepared to give me a good explanation why I’ve dragged my team out here to save your sorry ass,” Emily hissed, and the girl’s mouth bobbed a few times, feeling the rest of the team watching as she got thoroughly chewed out. 

“Wait-” Emily’s hand lingered at the car door, ready to slam it in her face as she rubbed her cuff over her chin, mopping up the damage. Her head tilted for a moment, hoping her sister had something good to say, only for it to be; “He just called you old, I hope you realise that,”

Emily’s gaze darkened, slamming the door shut with an anger she imagined her mother had kept warm for the past twenty three years, whirling around heatedly when she heard a snigger from one Derek Morgan. 

“Damn, mama, hear the girl out.” He said, slapping a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he passed, heading back to their own SUV, “Maybe she’ll surprise you,” 

If Emily was going to bite anything back, she didn’t. Instead she ran a hand over her brow, the group disbanding to their cars now the problem child had been picked up from daycare, except for Hotch who watched the older Prentiss with a scowl, despite the worry in his eyes. 

“Hotch, I’m so sorry, just take it off my timecard, I’ll cover all the costs,” She said shakily, her own frown adorning her face as she felt herself blush from embarrassment under her boss’s gaze. 

“I understand she’s your sister, but this was a gross misuse of agent time and resources, Prentiss,” He said, his gaze drifting to where Spencer sat next to the girl, pulling a packet of tissues and hand sanitizer out of his satchel while JJ rooted through her own purse for a plaster, “Don’t let it happen again,” 

Emily nodded vehemently, flushed with anger, her palms sticky as she wiped them on her jeans. 

“Absolutely sir. Believe me, this ever happens again, she’s on her own,” She replied, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. Emily would never. 

He nodded stonily, deciding quickly that it was punishment enough that she felt so ashamed, he knew from his years of arguments with Sean what it was like to have a sibling stray so far. 

“We can fill out reports in the morning, just get Reid and JJ home,” Hotch said, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder as he passed her to head towards his own vehicle, “And try not to kill each other in the company car. It doesn’t look good on paperwork,” 

She beat off the smile on her lips as she got back into the driver's seat, the air that engulfed the four of them foul as she glared over her shoulder and into the back. Spencer twitched in his seat uncomfortably, his hand still passing over tissues to the bloodied girl. 

“So, you gonna tell me what that was about?” Emily asked, her tone brittle and warning, not in the mood for any snarky response she could give, “Or is this old lady going to have to lay into you some more,” 

The smell of strong ethanol engulfed her nose as she held the soaked tissue to her face, frowning into her lap silently and avoiding the burning stare as Emily stuck the keys in the ignition and started the car.

“Let’s start with why you were there,” JJ input, the same tone of voice she used as when talking to victims, calm and motherly, unlike the pissed off snarl Emily gave, “You wanna tell us why you were arrested?”

“You two really gonna pull the good cop, bad cop on me?” She snapped, her lip swelling around the wound, tongue grazing it softly despite the heavy taste of the sanitizer.

Emily said her name in a warning, her last warning, and she knew better than to push her luck even more, the SUV pulling out of the station and onto the road. 

“I was just shopping for groceries,” She started, fiddling with the bloodied tissue, wincing under her tongue stroke, “Store clerk made a pass at me, I told him I wasn’t interested. So he put a pack of smokes in my handbag while I wasn’t looking; the alarms went off. I didn’t even know what was happening until security grabbed me at the door,” 

JJ flashed a glance at Emily, like two parents deciding an appropriate punishment, the brunette’s lips straightening out into a line. 

“You’re telling the truth?” She asked cautiously, glancing in the rear view mirror to see how her sister balled the mess of paper between her palms. 

Rolling her eyes, she gladly accepted the other packet of tissues Spencer slid over the leather seat between them. 

“I went out for milk and oranges, I was not looking to get picked up, Em,” She bit back, groaning when she felt it jostle the cut, “And certainly not for cigarettes, you know I only smoke on New Years,” 

Spencer looked at her with a frown, and she caught his confusion quickly, pulling another leaf of paper from the packet. 

“Emily and I had a rule after she caught me smoking when I was like fourteen, that we could have one cigarette between the two of us on New Years eve,” She explained, JJ also perking up to hear it, “So that by the time morning came around, it would be last year’s mistake, and it would be like it never happened,” 

JJ smiled to herself, remembering the time she caught Roz sneaking one of her dad’s cigarettes on the back porch back when she was just ten. She remembered the little secrets the two of them kept back then, held them even all these years later. 

“So how did that lead to, well,” JJ gestured to her lip, “That,” 

“Yeah, didn’t I specifically tell you to not antagonise anyone?” Emily chimed in, signalling she was changing lanes as they headed down the freeway for a second time that day.

“Technically you said not to antagonise the officers,” She pointed out, before Spencer had the chance to, shutting his mouth as he caught the glare Emily shot through the mirror.

“Keep talking,” The older Prentiss ordered, as Bugsy sighed and blotted her lip some more. 

“That woman, Mira I think her name was, anyway, she recognised me from that picture mom had us take on Independence Day, the one they put in The Hill, and she asked me if it was true my sister was a fed,” 

Emily’s fingers twitched at the wheel, knowing the status agents and even people associated with agents held in prisons; knowing just being a Prentiss in a jail cell held a big, dazzling price over her head that said ‘kill me, kill me!”

The air sucked out of the car, a look passing between JJ and Reid as they thought the same thing, waiting for her to go on. 

“So then you hit her?” Emily guessed, the bitterness slowly ebbing as she understood maybe her sister wasn’t as unruly as she thought. 

“No, I told her to leave me the fuck alone, but she said you guys sent her brother down for something a while back, and she asked again if my family were all Pigs,” She picked her nails, the blood stain on her sleeve staring back at her, “I told her if she didn’t stop calling you a Pig, I’d make her squeal like one. And then I hit her,” 

Emily tried to pretend she didn’t smile hearing that, her cheeks tightening, lips pulling down as she fended it off. 

“Is that good enough, officers, or will you be needing fingerprints?” The girl chimed after a moment, a weight seemingly lifted from the car as Emily quickly realised she had, for once, not been entirely at fault. 

“I want a handwritten apology to my boss for wasting his time,” Emily demanded, her unforgiving gaze softening when she saw her smile, “And you owe my team coffee,”

“I can do coffee, coffee coming right up,” She agreed, shoving the used tissues into her purse with a crooked smile, “It’s a date,”

Spencers ears turned red, looking over the seat at where she dabbed at her lip gently. She didn’t look much older for six months, but she had gotten her nose pierced since the last time he’d seen her, unless he just hadn’t noticed it before, and the streaks of red were slowly fading out into a blush pink that said it was old, and he wondered if she’d done it herself in that tiny little cubicle bathroom of hers she shared with the four other girls in her block. 

“You finished your stats papers yet?” He made polite conversation, though part of him was dying to know out of curiosity if she could crunch numbers and equations as well as she could in her own labs. 

“Got two more this week, they’re kicking my ass man,” She replied with a huff, and he didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘man’ by a woman before. He knew if he’d known her in college, ignoring the fact he would have been twelve, he would have thought she may just be the coolest person alive, “I miss my labs with my microscopes and watching all the little baby cells move around in the ethanol. Stats are like, just not sexy,” 

He smiled at her as she stared out the window, unaware of the way she’d managed to make DNA sound like a play pen full of kittens. He held off from telling her he found stats really quite sexy, knowing it would never sound the same coming from his mouth.

He pulled a leaf of the tissues from the packet, producing his own pen from his pocket and began doodling carefully so as not to rip the delicate canvas. 

Sliding it over to her after five minutes as Emily and JJ made conversation in the front seat, she didn’t care that the grin tugged on her split lip, the reaction was instant, she couldn’t stop it if she tried. 

Two stick men stared back at her, her hair a close match in texture and a childish triangle drawn as means of a dress, a very tall stick figure next to her patting her metaphorical head, a speech bubble coming from his mouth. 

“Maths is fun!” It said, and she flicked a glance at him, her smile the most genuine he’d seen yet. He just smiled back. 

+2. The one where you graduate

Emily felt the looks on her the moment JJ had mentioned Maryland. The case was a little under their pay grade, nothing more than a stalker, no bodies or bloodshed, but one very rattled woman that had turned to the communications liaison with fear for her life. 

With Hotch and Rossi in Boston helping a case of their own, the rest of the BAU had been twiddling their thumbs waiting for something to come across their desk. 

“This case is in my hands now, and if we do nothing and something happens to her,” JJ took a heavy breath, her eyes lingering on the three names Keri had given her in case of her untimely death, “I’ll be the one notifying her family,”

Derek, despite his own hesitations about using their time for a case like this, caved the moment he saw the guilt on the blonde’s face. 

“Okay,” He shuffled the papers into a pile, Emily and Spencer gathering their own resources on the case and standing from the round table. 

Luckily, one government SUV was more than enough to carry the four of them for the hour drive North, all of them well aware Hotch would flip if they used more funds than necessary.

JJ piled into the front beside where Morgan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Emily next to a particularly fidgety Reid. It took all of fifteen minutes of the man flicking a glance at her, his mouth quirking as if he were about to use it, before he thought better and looked out the window, and the whole thing would start again. 

Derek, the less shy about his thoughts of the two men, even glanced at her through the rear view mirror, before he too returned his gaze out the window silently. JJ shifted in her seat, knowing she had to tread carefully around mentioning Bugsy to Emily, particularly after the last time they’d seen her. Emily had said they’d grabbed coffee once or twice since then, but that was all she spoke about it, which left her team walking cracked eggshells at the thought of bringing her up. 

It seemed the three of them were bursting at the seams with the same thought, and it wasn’t until Reid cleared his voice, his puppy eyes stuck in his loop, that she had had enough. 

“Does anyone here have something to say?” Emily huffed, Derek immediately reaching to turn the radio up the same time that JJ flicked the AC on for something to do. Realising they weren’t easily broken, she turned to Spencer who already looked slightly guilty, thumbing at his sweater, “Reid?”

“Did you want to see your sister?” He asked without hesitation, as if the words had fallen out of him, “You know, since we’re so close on this case. It would be a good excuse to-”

“You did say she owed us a coffee,” JJ pointed out, spurred on by Spencer’s nerves, “Wouldn’t mind cashing in if we’re coming all this way.”

“Morgan, do you have anything to add?” Emily asked with raised brows, though she already knew what was coming.

Derek chewed over his thoughts a second, “I’m just saying, you only get to see your baby sisters grow up once- you know, and it couldn’t hurt to see her even if she runs rings around you with that smart mouth-”

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Emily cut him off incredulously, but received three knowing looks back. She met JJ’s gaze where the woman had swivelled in her seat to talk to her, and Prentiss was fast to catch the buried grief in her best friend’s eyes. She knew it pained her to even bring up sisterhood, let alone watch Emily throw hers away for the sake of a decade and a half between them. It was the desperation in JJ’s face that did it, knowing she would give anything to spend just an hour with Roz one more time, that had her drawing her cell out her pocket and calling the contact with the little ladybug next to it, “Fine,”

As a profiler she would have been tempted to ignore the way Spencer smiled into his lap; as a sister, her eyes narrowed at him.

The phone rang surprisingly only once before she answered, and she heard an unnaturally tame version of her sister answer.

“Emily?” She asked, her voice hushed, worried almost, “You okay?”

Her brows furrowed, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” She got no more than a hum in return, somewhat agreeing though Emily could tell clear as day she was holding something back. “Look, we’re gonna be in Silver Spring, I was thinking tomorrow we could grab lunch-” 

“Can’t, I’m busy, it’s an all day thing,” Her sister cut her off, yet it wasn’t rude or demeaning like usual. Nervous almost, sad, “Sorry,”

“What’s an all day thing?” Emily asked, the concern matching her words. 

Her sister swallowed on the other end of the phone, before she found her words, or maybe even the balls to actually speak, “I’m graduating tomorrow,”

Emily’s face lit up, the smile spreading fast on her face, ignoring the way Morgan’s words seemed to ring true in her ears; she was growing up too fast. 

“Graduating, why didn’t you say!” She asked, the joy in her tone unmissable, “How’d your papers go?”

Spencer held himself off from correcting her that she’d only done five papers, that the rest of her results had come from theory and labs, thinking better than to interrupt the one conversation they’d had where there was no underlying argument brewing. 

“Full honours, obviously.” Bugsy drawled with a snicker, and Emily shook her head, the smile never dimming. 

“Look at you, y’little superstar,” Emily bit her lip, ignoring the guilt that tore at her when she realised she barely knew what Bug spent her days doing, “Did Mom and Dad get good seats? Oh god, dad’s not bringing Stephanie is he?”

The silence on the other end had her halting, the light in the conversation wavering for a second, before she understood the nerves, the quick defence her sister had been on the moment the call had been answered. 

“Bug-”

“They’re not coming,” Her heart ached in her chest hearing it, “I sent Mom the details, she said she’s in Ukraine this week settling some papers. Didn’t even get a chance to ask Dad before he and Stephanie were off on their fifth honeymoon in the Bahamas until October,” A painful laugh echoed down the line, as if she were holding back the gravity of the situation. 

“Bug,” Emily tried again, picking her thumb viciously, punishingly, hating herself for being so blind to her sister’s troubles, “Why didn’t you invite me?”

“I figured you’d be busy,” Came the reply, sad and tender, the most honest she’d heard in a while, “You’re always busy,” 

“Never too busy for you,” Emily’s guilt tripled when her sister didn’t answer, knowing if she were to counter the statement with hard evidence it would only hurt both of them, “Look, I have some time today, probably,” She didn’t, not even a few minutes, “Why don’t we get that coffee, you don’t even have to pay,”

Bugsy gave a sad laugh, “Sorry, Em, I gotta get my dress fitted today, and some of the lab techs invited me to a party later. Maybe some other time,”

“A party with biology nerds?” Emily asked with false excitement, the air turned stagnant between them now, “Well, rock on, science freak. Don’t leave your drinks with strangers, and don’t walk home alone, and for god sake use protection-”

“Bye, Emily,” She said with a chuckle, the older of the two gracing her with the same, as they put the phone down. 

The car was quiet, waiting for Prentiss to speak, none of them missing the way her lip pulled between her teeth, a bitterness on her face that told them she was holding in something close to sadness. You’re always busy. It echoed around her head, stabbing at her chest to think her sister was graduating alone, no one to congratulate her, no one to pat her on the back and tell her how clever she is despite the fact Bugsy would happily tell anyone just how smart she was on her own. Never too busy for you. 

“She’s graduating tomorrow,” She said to the three people waiting for an update, Spencer’s brows shooting to his hairline. He hadn’t heard from her since her last paper got sent off, and why would he? They had exchanged a few little anecdotes and doodles, sent each other research papers to be graded like teachers exchanging lecture notes, “She didn’t even tell me. She’s gonna be alone,” 

JJ grimaced, “What? What about your mom- or, or your dad, an uncle, someone-” 

“Mom and dad are out of the country, Mom’s brother lives in Mexico with his seven kids, he can barely get a night’s sleep let alone a day off to travel up to Maryland. Dad’s sisters passed away when I was a kid,” Emily explained, running a hand over her face, “I can’t let her go up there alone,”

“So we don’t,” Spencer said, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life, “We don’t let her do it alone,”

-

“Graduating with Masters in Biotechnology; Jasper Adams, Tom Adamson, Kristen Afkins, Gavin Agriths-” 

The dean read off the names of the students as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. 

The dress fit beautifully, her make up done to near perfection, her hair styled neatly, she was graduating with full honours for christ sakes. Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had? Why had she got to be so spoiled? 

Lots of peoples parents missed their graduation, lots of people her age didn’t even have parents anymore, she ought to be grateful her mother was increasing famine aid in foreign countries, all the lives she would save, or even be happy her father had found a pretty, rich new wife to tour every known vacation destination with. Or even that her sister had called her just yesterday and told her in a few words she was proud of her. 

But none of them quelled the feeling of loneliness that blossomed inside Bugsy. The kind that had always been there, the kind that just wanted someone in her corner, telling her she was doing pretty good for a kid who raised herself in all those big houses they’d moved to, who saw the au pair more often than her own mother. 

All those rooms were so empty, the houses so quiet besides for her. It was like living in a cemetery. 

“Robert Lewsinsky. Marcus Linford. Tara Lorence. Katie Macauley.” 

P would be up soon. Each name of her classmates drew an applause, some whoops and screams, one family she swore there must have been ten of them in the back row cawing and howling like monkeys at a zoo, proud of their son for making it. 

She willed a smile on her face, hearing Orla Parkins get called up, and she knew just by the steward that directed her where to stand in line she was close. 

“Kenneth Patterson. Joshua Perriman. Harriet Pimms. Lauren Pintons.”

She held a rattled breath as Renly Prackett walked ahead of her, strolling over the stage to collect his degree, flashing the crowd a wide smile and a fist pump. She had always liked Renly, having been his experiment partner for a year, despite the fact he never washed up after himself in the lab. 

Then it was, her name was called. The one no one but her mother and Stephanie ever called her, she solely went by Bugsy courtesy of Emily. It was a family name, a nice one at that. Maybe it had been the fact she had been eight and her cool big sister crowned her the new name, or maybe it just rolled off the tongue better, made her feel less like a Prentiss, that she chose to go by her monika. 

She tried not to think about where or what Emily was doing, only hoping she was safe, as she began walking over the stage, her heels clicking loudly with her hesitant steps. 

To her utmost surprise she heard a loud whistle echo through the auditorium, a group of jeers and screams of her name, even an air horn signing off that had her almost tripping over her own feet turning to see who it was. 

Surely it was a joke, a cruel prank, she barely had any friends in her class. Acquaintances sure, but no one so bold as to make such a fuss over her. 

Squinting down at the audience, her cap nearly slipping off her head as her head turned to the source, she felt her chest burst when she saw the dark hair and bangs, her sisters butchered fingertips in her mouth with a loud cattle whistle, screaming like a firework right to the stage where she graciously accepted her award, despite the fact she barely paid any attention to the dean anymore, more to her sister who smiled at her widely as she clapped. Behind her, her team she’d met on the off chance, the pretty blonde, JJ, who pressed the air horn a few more times, cheering just as loud for her. Morgan, the handsome one who had stood himself on top of his chair, cupping a hand over his mouth to scream “Kicking ass, baby Prentiss!” at her, ignoring the way other people stared wide eyed at them. 

And Spencer, tall enough to be seen over the crowd even without the help of a chair, who smiled at her, clapping those big hands of his loud enough to reach her, his own whoops never ceasing even as she stepped off the stage to head back to her seat. 

The rest of the ceremony dragged, a speech from one of the alumni and the exit music playing, but she simply grinned into her hand, where her degree smiled back at her, counting down the moments she would be allowed to stand. 

And then she was fast walking down the stairs, amongst the bustle of students, the black gowns flurrying around her as she burst out into the square where parents, fiancees, brothers, sisters, cheered their loved ones, pulling them into tight hugs. 

Her eyes scanned the wave of black hats, landing on two dark eyes, the thick sable hair framing the dazzling smile that awaited her with open palms. All but shoving her way through the crowd, she stopped in front of her sister, the urge to jump at her with a hug shying the moment she got close. 

“Told you. Never too busy for you, Bug,” Emily said, pulling her in by her shoulders for a tight hug. She knew her sister wasn’t one to beg for affection, wasn’t one to let her guard drop so soon, but she also knew she’d needed it by the way she melted against her, the way she chuckled into her hair, pulled her closer. 

“Do I owe your boss another letter of apology for this or do I get you guys for free?” The girl asked, as her sister pulled away, keeping an arm around her shoulder as they turned to the rest of the team. 

“No, this one is entirely on us, promise,” JJ said with a smile as she saw Emily beaming maternally over at the girl, the flat of the cap knocking against her cheek as she squeezed her in once more, “We’re very proud of you,” 

She heated under the woman’s words, wriggling in her shoes as bad as Emily did when she felt awkward, Derek chuckling and taking the degree out of her hand. 

“Alright, lets see the creds, Prentiss,” He held it up next to her face as she shrugged, the ‘4.0’ clear as day next to her name, “Good looking, and smart. Those boys in the lab ought to watch out,”

She grinned under his teasing, “What can I say, I got the deep end of the gene pool,” She teased, feeling Emily swat her ear, her eyes falling to where Spencer held a plant pot with a poorly wrapped bow of twine around it, the soil a little displaced from the journey.

“This is for you,” He said, handing her the small green sproutling, his cheeks blushing as her face lit up, reading the small inscription on the front, “It’s-”

“Dionaea muscipula,” She said, biting her lip as she smiled at him, “This is so cool! Where on earth did- I had a paper last semester on the ways to study their electrophysiology you just have to read- oh thank you!”

“English, please?” Emily asked, though the warmth flooded her chest when her sister threw her arms around a very rigid Spencer. 

Thinking she should grab her and warn her the man disliked touch almost as much as she does, she was surprised to see him give her a small embrace back, smiling proudly the way he did when he’d made someone happy. 

“Piège à mouches Vénus,” Her sister responded cockily, tugging herself away from the tall man, to inspect her new plant, well aware that Emily rolled her eyes at her use of French, “Venus Fly Trap. I’ve never seen one so young, still I should be able to pull some slides on the Rhizomes in the soil-”

Emily put a hand to her temple, JJ smiling widely as she saw for once Spencer be the one on the receiving end of an earful, chuckling to himself when she began dishing out name ideas for the sapling. 

“Holy shit, there’s two of them,” Morgan grumbled, nudging his shoulder into Emily who simply sighed, her migraine already starting as Reid began jumping in with his own thoughts, which didn’t take much effort.

“Don’t even,” 

+3. The one where you’re taken hostage

“Tell us about the 911 call,” Spencer requests, flicking through the file himself beside her in the back seat. She had her own set of paperwork in front of her, her pen attached to a clipboard the lanyard around her neck reading her real, honest credentials, unlike the fake ones Emily and Reid were given. She’d been to one of these sects before, invited kindly as part of her research on the effect isolation has on cultivation of crops, knew one of the mother’s well from her last research paper, and had managed to get the group a foot in the door to entering the Separtarian Sect with little fuss. 

Hotch, usually hesitant to allow outsiders in on the job, especially as young and spirited as Bugsy, had to admit it would calm any potential unsubs and make them see the team as unthreatening if they had a friendly face there. He’d signed the papers with a frown that morning, and they were on their way to the little apartment the girl occupied just outside Baltimore, sample tubes stuffed into her pack ready. 

“I believe the he that they refer to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus,” Nancy, a woman from child protective services, replied from the driver's seat, Emily thumbing through her papers as they neared the compound. 

“Benjamin Cyrus, no criminal record; no record of him at all actually,” Reid replied, watching Bugsy scribbling notes into her lab book, perfecting her report before she had even begun, “What else do you know about him?” 

“The sect I spoke to before, the one in Utah, said he was rumoured to be practising polygamy and forced marriages,” The younger woman said, looking back at him with a frown, “They were much more modern in their beliefs than these guys. Last time I spoke to Marina she was happy there, I can’t see why she would want to move here,” 

Spencer looked as if he were about to answer, perhaps to tell her he was sure her contact would be just fine, when Emily shrugged and turned to Nancy. 

“Do we know who the caller is?” She asked, sipping her now lukewarm coffee out of the disposable cup. 

Nancy’s head tilted in a so-so motion, “Uh, Jessica Evansen is the one who the age fits, but we can’t be sure.”

“Well given their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI.” Emily instructed, handing Reid his new, fake credentials and his gun she’d kept in her bag through customs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.” Nancy nodded, the compound coming into view, the dust flurrying under the car wheels as the road turned into nothing more than a sandy path. 

A guard seemed to be expecting their arrival as he stood, unarmed at the main gate, unlatching the bolt in the middle and opening it wide for their vehicle to pass through. She nodded in thanks, her eyes flicking out the dirty window to see a collection of mobile homes surrounding a large church, a few smaller outbuildings dotted around the compound. It was quiet, not full of laughter like the last group she had been to, the children nowhere to be seen, only a few of the handier members of the flock that were either fixing up walls, trimming trees besides a man sprawled too casually on the steps of the chapel, a bible in his hands he seemed to be catching up on. 

The car pulled to a stop in front of the man that barely batted an eye at their arrival, the safety locks flicking off each of the doors, Nancy collecting her briefcase and exiting the car first. 

She had all but reached for the handle when Emily stopped her, swivelling in her seat to look her dead in the eye. 

“Your job is mediator, you got that?” Her sister had never looked more serious, but then again she did know her almost too well, “You and your field research are a… buffer between our investigation and the unsub. Just try to take the focus off what we’re doing, but do not provoke anyone,”

She raised her hands in innocence, “Got it, jeez, what could I possibly do that could ruin this investigation?” 

Emily stared back at her blankly, unnamused, as if they both knew there was a lot she could, and would, do that would blow the whole thing. 

“You look like mom when you give me that look,” She bit back, leaving the car, as Nancy spoke to the man laying on the steps, “It’s terrible,” 

“I’m looking for Mr Benjamin Cyrus?” Nancy reported, her tight, knee length skirt and blouse entirely out of place amongst the dirt track. 

“You found him,” The man replied, still not so much as granting them a glance of interest as he flicked through his passages. 

“I’m Nancy Lunde, we spoke on the phone regarding the allegation,” She replied, which was the only thing that garnered his attention as he looked up at them behind slightly bent reading glasses. 

“Savages they call us; because our manners differ from theirs,” He said, though it was clear it wasn’t entirely his own words, more likely a segment of his preach he’d repeated a handful of times. Bugsy tried to hide her disgust behind her hand tightening around her lab books she kept tightly to her chest. 

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr Cyrus,” Nancy snipped as he approached the group, pocketing the glasses though he kept hold of the bible in hand as if it was part of his own arm. 

“Actually it’s Benjamin Franklin,” Spencer murmured to the woman, which had Cyrus’ cold brown eyes narrowing at the tall man, assessing for a motive.

“Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid. They’re child victim interview experts,” Nancy introduced them quickly, the two of them flashing their badges, the unofficial ones at least. Gesturing to the youngest woman, she introduced her with her real name, his gaze flicking to her as he seemed to recognise it.

“Marina’s friend? The plant lady?” He asked, face half amused as she fought her lip from twitching into a sneer. Instead she smiled, holding out her hand. 

“That’s what they call me,” She said, shaking his hand, ignoring the way he flashed her a cheshire cat smile, “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, Marina said I could take some samples for my research,”

He laughed, shaking his head, looking at Spencer, “Women and their flowers, right?” Spencer swallowed back a retort, shrugging his shoulders, though Bugsy’s eye twitched. Benjamin patted her on her shoulder, “Of course you can honey, I’ll find Jared, our head gardner, and you can run along for your research,” 

He said it as if she were lying, that her degree and endless hours of work would only ever chalk up to a few doodles in a notebook, or a garden full of hydrangeas, or tulips, or roses, because she couldn’t possibly care about anything else but pretty flowers. 

Nodding her head graciously, choking back the hateful response she wished to spit in his face, she gave him a polite thankyou, feeling Spencer’s eyes burning into the side of her head. 

“The children are in the school as I indicated,” Cyrus said, turning back to the other three, Emily and Nancy taking off in the direction he pointed, the former knowing her sister was at risk of blowing a fuse if they were here for long. 

Spencer hung back, partially because he had a plan of distraction in mind to allow the women a chance to speak with the children whilst Cyrus wasn’t around, partially because he didn’t want to leave Bugsy anywhere on her own. Sure, Emily had said they were both trained in self defence when they were kids, but with no weapon of her own, he was reluctant. 

“You're using solar power?” He prompted, gesturing towards where the eight blue panels warmed under the Colorado sun.

“We’re completely self-sufficient,” Benjamin nodded along, catching the impressed look on both their faces, “Electricity, food, water. Ben Franklin said ‘God helps those that help themselves,’ you look surprised,” 

“No, impressed actually,” Spencer replied, and he wasn’t entirely lying. The system was incredibly complex, particularly if they received no help from outsiders, for as many people as there were in the compound. 

“Thankyou; for admitting that,” Cyrus said earnestly, flicking his gaze back to Bugsy who studied the solar panels, “I’ll go find Jared, he can take you to the greenhouses,”

Thanking him again, he led the way towards the school where Nancy and Emily had headed, as the two of them exchanged a look, Spencer smiling half piteously, wishing he could shake her and tell her just how smart she was and that Cyrus knew absolutely nothing. 

He didn’t miss the way she walked closer to him, or how she thumbed the corner of her notebook, or how she looked back at him, biting the inside of her cheek. He thinks he might get slapped if he pointed it out, but Emily had the exact same tell when she was nervous, which is why he bumps their shoulders together in means of reassuring her he was still there. 

It was only then she gave him any sort of smile back. 

-

Jared, as expected, had been just as condescending and patronising as Benjamin whilst she slipped on her latex gloves, scooping no more than a handful of homemade fertiliser into one of her test tubes. It had been a partial cover, their story, but she had been telling the truth when she’d contacted Marina and asked if she could drop by. She’d been meaning to expand her field research in hopes of stumbling on a job opportunity since she spent most of her postgraduate days reading while her cat pawed at her leg for more treats than he deserved, the odd phone call with her sister much more common than it had been before. 

She didn’t miss the way Jared’s hand fell into the small of her back as he led her back towards the school, after having noted down a few more readings, fussing over the state of the carrots that seemed to grow entirely naturally thanks to the systems they’d been smart enough to set up. He seemed rather bored by the whole thing, for a head gardener, more interested in staring at her legs as she leaned down to identify the fat black beetle that crawled along the rockery. 

It wasn’t until they were halfway to the school that the sound of tyres on a dirt path met her ears, and she saw five armoured SUVs out the corner of her eye. 

She hadn’t even the time to question what was going on, before Jared’s face dropped, the hand gently holding the soft of her back grabbing on her forearm hard enough to leave bruises, as he was dragging her to the chapel they had seen when they had pulled up.

 Emily had said the rest of the team stayed in Quantico, if it wasn’t them, who was it. 

“Whats going on- who is that?” She asked him lamely, her feet stumbling as she half fought his heavy hand off. 

That was when the shooting started. 

She thinks it came from the compound first, she’d seen two men stationed on top of one of the outbuildings, thinking nothing much of it, until she saw clearly now the assault rifles they bore, pointing it straight at the vehicles that drew closer. The whistle of bullets, bangs of the chambers emptying their artillery, and it wasn’t until she heard the doors to the SUVs start opening, more gunfire began hitting the wall ahead of them that she started running. Running fast, for the cover the church provided until she figured out just what the fuck was happening. 

Jared all but threw her past the chapel door, where Cyrus and four other men were waiting, a heavy barricade in their hands, her chest pounding with adrenaline, she couldn’t help the yelp that left her as Cyrus whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders firmly and looking her dead in the eye. 

“Did you know anything about this?” He asked, his calm demeanour cracking when she scrambled for a response, “ANSWER ME,”

“No-no not at all.” She shook her head, voice weaker than she’d like, but the sight of more guns in the men’s hands twisted any resolve she had, “Where are the others- the- the experts-”

“Take her into the tunnels,” Cyrus ignored her question, nodding at one of his men to grab her as Jared armed himself. She felt another callused hand yank on her upper arm, and part of her wondered if that was how men handled all women here, as if they were herding cattle, as she was dragged down into the catacombs below the church. 

They’d made plans for a day like this to come, she realised. 

Her heart constricted at the sound of bullets rattling above them, she hadn't been able to tell in that last moment whether Cyrus believed her or not as, nor whether she was being taken to the tunnels for her own safety or to be questioned harder about the gunmen. 

She could only hope Emily was safe. 

She felt her tongue too big for her mouth as the man all but shoved her into the bunker, the nervous chatter of women and children, some of the more elderly men, as they clung to one another for safety, the scathing remark she would have usually made about his heavy hands failing her as she scanned the room for her sister. 

Emily was faster however, and she nearly yelped again as two bony arms yanked her into a hug, a rare one, and she knew by the blazer and the sigh of relief in her ear it was Em.

Usually she would bat her off, tell her to stop fussing like a mother hen, but today she embraced her right back, trying to note if her sister had any bullet holes in her before she allowed herself the same relief. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Emily asked, the whole thing coming out in a slew of worry, and she nodded, pulling away as if she needed to see the proof in person. 

Bugsy’s eyes were wild, as if she were a doe in a meadow hearing a rifle cocking near. No scratch that, she was a doe being chased and shot at and hunted, narrowly escaping being mounted on a wall. 

“They were all shit shots,” Bugsy said, through a laugh she didn’t quite mean, “You would have done much better.” 

Patting her sister on the shoulder, Emily finally released her when she realised the humour meant she at least had her head on her shoulders. Spencer watched her with meticulous eyes, knowing the shock that registered on her face, knowing it was the same one he wore when he first had shots fired at him. He saw her own eyes quickly check him over, satisfied with a breath of relief when she saw they were both fine. 

“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked, and she realised then Cyrus had followed her down into the shelter, two of his men grabbing handfuls of guns she had never seen before, likely imported out of country, and returning to the ground level, preparing for more shooting. 

“It wasn’t us,” Cyrus replied, as if that negated the fact their recklessness had gotten the agent killed. 

“What? You can’t shoot it out with the cops, you have children in here,” Emily seethed, her voice harsh and incredulous.

“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus bit back, looking towards his men as they grabbed boxes on boxes of ammunition, “I’ll take the front, you take the roof,” 

And with that they stormed their way back through the tunnels, leaving the three of them to look between each other, knowing this could only end badly. Knowing the only people that could figure out how to get them out of this mess was the BAU, all 1,700 miles away. 

–

They’d been in the bunker for fourteen hours when there was finally movement. The shooting seemed to have quietened down, in which Spencer whispered it was around 11pm and it was likely neither party had a clear shot. She’d managed to fall asleep leaning against the wall, Emily’s blazer draped over her legs. She’d regretted wearing cropped pants, despite how the shade of green complimented her eyes nicely, and she’d been shivering by the time she fell asleep, Emily’s hands stroking her hair gently as if she knew she was struggling to relax. 

She hadn’t realised she was staring at her little sister, frowning even as she slept, which made part of her want to laugh, until she caught Spencer’s tired eyes looking between them, something knowing and warm in his gaze. 

“You know, she’s always scowled in her sleep, ever since she was born,” Emily said, quiet enough it didn’t interrupt the hum of small snores, the odd baby cry that filled the bunker, but loud enough for him to smile at her, “She used to sleep walk terrible too. I’d find her in the kitchen trying to make pancakes with a cheese grater. It’s like that big brain of hers doesn’t know how to shut off,” Emily shook her head with a fatigue, rubbing her eyes. 

“Was it weird? Being fourteen years older?” Spencer asked, his own hands shoved into his sleeves to try defend from the draught. Emily thought for a moment, her hand slowing for a second on her sister's hair, before she answered. 

“I felt guilty leaving her in that house with my mom when I went to college,” Emily answered, Bugsy unconsciously tucking her face closer into the jacket, “I think part of her kind of hated me for it for a while.” She went quiet, the shame in her voice thick as the silence that encompassed them, “She’s never been very affectionate you know? Before her graduation I don’t think I’d hugged her in twelve years,”

Spencer held himself back from pointing out that she had been just as touchy with him since they’d met, and that maybe it was Emily’s own regret that seemed to shut the both of them down. He wasn’t one to rub salt in the wound, not since he’d gotten this job and learned to watch what he said. 

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to give her advice, knowing the whole subject of their slowly repairing relationship was a sore one. He had no siblings of his own, had a mother who loved him despite how much she grappled with her own mind, and he had only known the girl briefly enough to consider her a friend at a push. 

“I always thought the two of you were similar,” Emily chose to continue, offering him a small smile. He returned it, his face blushing at the fact that was a huge compliment to him, “Granted, you roll your eyes at me less and don’t act like I’m dumb, but you remind me of her,” 

“Thankyou, I wish that were true,” He replied, eyes flicking to her sleeping form, the way her eyebrows were indeed scrunched in a permanent frown. He wondered if she was actually angry, or if she was just thinking hard, perhaps her dreams were full of equations or labs she needed to sort through. Either way, he wanted to know. “She’s much cooler than I’ll ever be,” 

Emily snorted, shuffling against the wall to cosy herself, “That’s one way to put it,” She said, smiling over at him as he did the same, his head resting against the wall, Bugsy’s legs stretching out to knock against his feet, and he didn’t mind that she scuffed the bottom of his already dirty trousers. “Get some sleep,”

And so they did. 

–

Cyrus had corralled the whole flock into the church, where the shooting had stopped and the bodies had been removed, stating at the break of dawn that there was a hostage negotiator coming in to make sure everyone was safe before they made any deals. 

She sat next to Spencer, the three of them stiff from their sleeping arrangements, and her stomach churned with hunger. It had been over 24 hours since they’d gotten here, and besides the small bit of bread and water Cyrus gave everyone for breakfast, she was starving. 

“Remind me to never leave the house, ever again,” She grumbled, as everyone waited in the pews for the negotiator to arrive, “My cat is gonna be pissed I’ve not fed him,” 

“Since when did you get a cat?” Emily inputted from the other side of Reid, keeping one eye on the door in case any agents start shooting again. 

The girl shrugged, “I got lonely, there’s not much to do now I’m not studying anymore,” 

Reid watched how she clutched her stomach, feeling his own complaining at the lack of nutrition, “Morgan wasn’t lying when he said you should sign up for the academy. We could always use the help, we wouldn’t have solved that case in Baltimore without you,” 

She snickered, nudging his foot with her boot, “You’re being modest, you would have done it just fine,”

He was a little, wasn’t surprised she called his bluff either. “Okay, so probably yes- but it would have taken us a whole lot longer. Mr Chernus likely would have died,” 

She shook her head, glancing at Emily who watched her carefully, “That was all you guys. I just translated.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a glance, leaning back in their uncomfortable seats calmly. 

“You’re probably right,” Spencer said, dusting the dirt off his trousers, “Probably couldn’t handle it, high intensity mind games and such,”

She blanched, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head, not knowing him to be so brutally honest, realistic yes, but not bordering on rude. 

“And it’s a lot of work,” Emily jumped in, her mouth a straight line, “I don’t know if you’d be dedicated enough,”

Bugsy scoffed, indifferently. “I have a masters degree, I was offered a scholarship to do a PHD, asked to be an assistant professor at Yale, I can work hard, Emily,” She snipped, and perhaps she was particularly just hangry or they had struck a nerve with their doubt, “and I could do it if I wanted to, I’d have the best shot they’d ever seen, guaranteed- mom made me take lessons when you left- trust me I could do it-”

She shut up when she saw their small smile exchanged, as if she’d told them a joke, or moreso they’d had the same identical thought and that alone was hilarious. 

Scowling at them, she looked from where Spencer looked almost, almost, guilty at making her the butt of the joke, to where Emily had a ‘told you so’ smirk, and she kissed her teeth at their childishness. 

“Are you guys reverse psychology-ing me? Seriously, so original guys,” She snapped, crossing her arms and straightening herself in her seat, ignoring the snigger that passed between them. 

“You’re not wrong though,” Emily replied quietly as Cyrus walked past them, his eyes falling to them with a frown. Bugsy kept her head down, heeding Emily’s warning of not provoking anyone, and Spencer eyed the way she leaned closer to him.

If she was going to retaliate, whether agreeing or not, she stopped herself, the doors the church opening and an older gentleman walking through the doors, arms full of supplies she’d figured must have been part of the negotiation. He was patted down by an armed guard, searching for his own weapons do doubt, or a wire perhaps, as he handed the box over to another who took it without a thankyou. 

“Rossi,” She heard Reid whisper beside her, and from the look he shot Emily and Spencer she gathered he was from the BAU, just as they’d expected. His eyes fell on her, softening as alot of Emily’s team did when they saw the two of them, as if they were picking her face apart for the tiny ways in which she resembled their Prentiss, or maybe it was the way she curled up in her seat, tired, hungry, on the defence. He just looked sorry for her. 

 “The children,” Cyrus said with no greeting, the air between them particularly frosty. He gestured towards the three of them, though Rossi had already clocked their tired faces staring at him with worry, “And our guests,”

She saw him trying not to react, guessing they had not let it slip to Cyrus he worked with the two undercover FBI agents, looking away from them as if the sight of their forlorn figures was enough to turn him sick. 

Judging by the way Cyrus and he spoke quietly, tensely, Bugsy just hoped they had a plan to get them out of here soon as he soon left with a rigid handshake to the man keeping them hostage. 

–

The three of them had been moved to a backroom a few hours later. Her stomach ached, the little sustenance Rossi had brought being distributed to the community before they’d been offered anything, which hadn’t left much. Reid and Emily had tried to get her to take some of their sharing, and despite how her insides cried out for it, she declined, stating they would be more use than she would; that they needed their strength more than her if they were going to get out of here alive. 

The two of them hadn’t liked that answer judging by the frowns on their faces, but they sat in their seats with little fuss as they waited for things to quieten down after Cyrus’ staged “mass suicide” that had turned out to be nothign more than a test of loyalty and grape juice. 

They had been sat in silence, aside from her foot bouncing on the floor impatiently, as she picked at the threads on her pants, the material uncomfortable on her skin after a day of wearing it. The door slammed open, Cyrus entering the room with nasty scowl. She didn’t know what had changed in the man in a matter of hours as he stormed over to them, two of his men behind him, loaded rifles in their arms. 

This was not good. 

“Which one of you is it?” He asked almost too calm for his demeanour, his eyes flicking between the three of them, where Emily attempted to brush her hair using her fingers, Reid played with the hem of his cardigan, an she sat beside him, resting against the cold stone wall behind them, her eyes narrowing at his furious expression. 

The three of them remained silent, waiting for him to explain more, though clearly it was not the answer he was looking for as he threw his jacket open, revealing a loaded pistol tucked into his jeans. Drawing it into his dominant hand, her body tensed up, her back straightening like a rod as she looked up at him through fear. 

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” He repeated in that same calm tone, and her heart fell through her stomach. 

She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation, though the way she saw his hand shaking with fury, she knew it was better to stay quiet in case her voice would be the final straw that made him trigger happy. 

“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer replied softly, and if he was panicking even a fraction amount she was he held it back, though his eyes flicked to Emily. 

But it was a tell. The smallest movement alone was a tell he was lying, or perhaps it was the fact he’d answered a question with one of his own, distracting from the attention on them with the unsubs own answers. Maybe his quiet and calm showed how trained he was for a situation like this, showed he had gone up against bad guys before and won. 

Whatever it was about him, it had Cyrus cocking the barrel of the gun straight at Spencer’s temple. 

“God forgive me for what I must do,” The preacher murmured, his finger moments away from the trigger, when she lurched forward in her seat, hand shooting out to grab his wrist deathly tight. 

“It’s me,” 

She hadn’t realised she’d said it until the room went quiet. She thought for a moment it had come from Emily, Emily had always been the braver of the two of them, but it wasn’t until Cyrus’ unforgiving, dark gaze fell to her where she froze in her spot, that she understood her mouth had been the one moving. 

Emily looked as if she was about to vomit, Spencer looked dumbfounded, but all she could do was stare back at Cyrus as if to will herself not to back down, knowing all three of them could fall victim if she gave them reason to doubt her; he could kill all three of them just to be sure the mystery agent was dealt with.

“It’s me,” She repeated, voice stronger this time, and she felt her chest relax just the tiniest amount as he turned the gun away from Spencer’s head. 

He stared back at her for a moment, before the weapon smacked across her face in a sharp whip, her cheekbone crying out in a sting she knew was going to bruise. 

He grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, yanking her into a stand hard enough she yelped, despite not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the torture. 

“Watch the other two,” Cyrus barked, dragging her out of the room as she squirmed under his hand, feeling it only tighten into an unforgiving pull. 

She barely caught Emily bolting out of her seat to yell at the other men, all but fighting in their heavy grasp to follow wherever it was he was taking her, only for the door to be slammed shut behind them. 

It was only then she realised how fucked she truly was. 

–

She struggled to breath through the blood clotting in her nose. She didn’t think it was broken, not that she could check where her hands had been tied to the bedpost, tape over her mouth to stop her calling for help, her feet bound. She’d done nothing but give him hell as he’d been laying into her, keeping her cries and groans of pain silent as he’d kicked her in the ribs hard enough to know he’d damaged something at least. 

She’d not made it easy for him to tie her down, worried about what they were planning next, she’d managed to headbutt him in the mouth, and the way he clutched at his jaw when he’d left gave her a sick satisfaction, though her temple now hurt more than she’d like to admit. But they’d only covered her mouth after she’d screamed obscenities at them for an hour or so, hoping to attract attention, hoping if the BAU were on their way, Emily and Reid would be able to find her fast before they could dispose of her. 

Bugsy didn’t want to go like this. Tied up like cattle, gagged and beaten, the spirit kicked out of her as the dehydration gnawed at her limbs, making her too weak to even try wriggling out of the binds. 

She felt herself dropping off to sleep, or maybe it was a concussion, he’d slammed her face into that mirror quite viciously, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had rattled her head around. Fighting with her eyelids to stay open, she jumped in her battered skin as the door unlatched, and she thrashed on the rickety bed to get away from the impending second beating. 

But it wasn’t Cyrus. A fawn haired woman entered, her eyes falling on the girl on the bed, where blood trickled down her cheek, pouring from her nose like a thick liquor. Frowning, she was on high alert as the woman approached, a small, damp cloth in her hand. 

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you honey,” She hushed, approaching the young girl. Bugsy didn’t believe her for one second, her head pulling away from her as far as it could, her eyes wild and distrustful as the woman kneeled down beside the bed. “I’m Kathy,”

Bugsy debated jabbing an elbow in her face then and there, telling her in few words to stay as far away from her as possible, that the moment she was free she didn’t care who she hurt; she was getting out of here even if she had to crawl. 

“That woman’s your sister right?” The blonde said, and the words stopped her heart for a moment, giving the woman the chance to run the cloth over the dribble of blood, “Emily,”

“Where is she?” She tried to ask, but the gag made it little more than a muffled cry, the woman’s eyes turning down in sadness. Pity. Bugsy hated every second of it.

“She’s okay, she’s worried about you though,” Kathy said, wiping under her nose, making her wince at the feeling, “Put up a hell of a fight after they took you away,” 

She must have rolled her eyes, or perhaps it was just telling on her face that that didn’t surprise her as the older woman wiped over the superficial cut on her forehead she hadn’t realised was deep until the cloth went over it and she yawped like a dog having it’s tail pulled. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kathy cooed, and she seemed genuinely guilty as she did. She tutted, shaking her head, fighting the urge to smooth the girls hair down the way she did when her own daughter was upset, “Emily said they’ll be coming for us at 3am, Cyrus has a mass suicide planned but they think they can stop him, you just have to hold on a little longer honey,” 

“I want to see her,” Bugsy tried to talk again despite her mouth being covered, only for it to come out unintelligible once more. Huffing, she resigned herself to glaring at the ceiling, biting back frustrated tears. Kathy seemed to want to say something else, but thought better of it as the twenty something year old turned away from her to stare out the window, as if she were being dismissed. 

Sighing, she rose from the bed and headed for the door, praying the FBI would get them out in time, before Cyrus put his plan into action. 

–

Bugsy didn’t start panicking until it hit 2:50. She’d managed to kick the small analogue clock on the beside into working, the red numbers seeming to take a millenia to change over. 

Yet it wasn’t until 3am neared, and the hallways remained silent, did she start to wonder if Kathy had been telling the truth at all. What if they had found out Emily and Reid were FBI and not her? What if they’d already been caught?

She really had wanted to see Emily, wanted to scream at the woman, who had meant well, to bring her sister to her or she would make every damn bible basher in this compound regret the day they were born. She felt helpless. She despised feeling helpless. 

It was only when she heard shots rattling from outside did the cold fear set in. 2:52. Any minute now. 

It was then an even worse thought struck her. What if they didn’t bother to come for her? Reid and Emily were safe downstairs, at least that was how Kathy had made it seem. If they got the women and children, the agents out first, she wondered if they would leave her for last since she wasn’t their top priority. 

2:53 stared back at her. 

At least Emily would make it. She was more important, had more going for her. She was supposed to be an only child anyway, mom had said it herself. Bugsy was the product of a failing marriage and a shared bottle of 1896 Bourbon that had been a wedding gift they’d never opened. 

2:54.

She could have sworn she tore something the way her head snapped to the door as it swung open on its hinges, as if two large men had thrown their weight into it. But it wasn’t two men at all, just one frantic Derek Morgan with an FBI grade assault rifle. 

The relief in his eyes was immediate, and he pulled a pocket knife from his boot, rushing over to where she lay, almost in shock, wondering if he was real at all, her heart pounding as she heard shouting in the corridor. 

“I’m gonna get you out, kid,” The man promised, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he sliced through the rope on her ankles, her eyes trained on the 2:55 that watched them as if to laugh at them. 

She whimpered, cursing behind her gag when she heard footsteps pounding through the hallway, and she was sure they were going to get caught. She thought then it would have been better if they’d forgotten about her, that at least Derek would have been safe, and he could have made sure the children got out safely, could have gotten Spencer and Emily medical. 

Derek whirled on the doorway the same as she did as a tall figure all but skidded around the corner, his legs weak as hers felt, too long and not at all built for running. Clumsy almost. 

Spencer. She should have known from the way he looked white as a sheet the moment he saw her it was him, but maybe she really did have concussion, as it seemed within moments he was fussing over her face, tearing a little too sharply at the tape over her mouth. 

She thinks she groaned, or maybe cursed him out, as he started apologising immediately, his eyes a puppy kind of sad as she stared up at him, Derek handing him the knife to cut her arms free. 

He was talking, but she couldn’t make a lot of it out, just that he was really sorry, it was 2:56 now. It was like her brain switched itself back on when she realised she was free, and the two of them were trying to haul her to her feet. 

“Come on, princess, we gotta get out of here,” Derek said, as Spencer looped an arm around her waist, helping her limp across the room where her weak limbs did little to hold her upright, her ribs throbbing with every step, “We managed to stop Cyrus from detonating it manually, but the circuits are all still live,”

Morgan took the lead with the rifle, knowing some of Cyrus’ men had stayed to look for them, that they would go down with the building even though he’d already shot their leader the moment they’d breached the front door, because that was how loyal they were. They’d proven so already with the wine. 

She kept her groans behind tight lips as they made it down the stairs, knowing Spencer didn’t mean to hold her bruised bones so tight, that he was just worried and her legs were doing the bare minimum to keep them both moving very fast. It wasn’t until they made it within a few feet of the door that they seemed to pick up the pace.

And she saw why. 

Jesse, Cyrus’ child bride that had been the reason they’d come here in the first place was holding the detonator, her face tear streaked at the sight of her husband and prophet dead on the floor, the people responsible all but dragging a lame girl through the foyer and to the doors as if they hadn’t killed a handful of her flock tonight. 

Bugsy saw the moment Jesse decided she wanted vengeance on them, but then, she guessed Spencer had already acted as he slung one of her arms over his shoulder, yanking her out the front door in a matter of seconds as Morgan pulled up the rear, and the two men shoved her down behind the small wall outside the church steps. 

Bugsy expected the bang to be louder as the rubble flew over their heads, the floor shaking with the impact of the bomb detonating, and it was then she realised one of Derek’s large warm hands held her head into his shoulder, protecting her already rattled skull as best as he could. Spencer had done the same, throwing half his body over her back as he covered his ears, the two men tucking into the wall tightly and waiting for the dust to settle. 

Spencer started coughing first, though his position over her never faltered, and she heard his chest wheezing, and knew they needed to move away from the thick smog that blew into their faces. Morgan released her ear, tipping her head back to check her over once more. 

“Kid! You okay?” He fretted, noticing the way her nose had started bleeding again from all the movement; the way the bruise had already started blotching her cheek from where Cyrus pistol whipped her. 

“I didn’t think you’d come for me,” Was all she could say, and Derek thought it was the saddest he’d ever heard her. 

Reid was pulling her to her feet then, where he was still hovering over her, despite the fact the blast had already cleared,  still sputtering and hocking up a lung, but it didn’t stop her from throwing herself at his middle, burying her face in his dusty sweater, not caring one bit if he jostled her aching ribs. 

He was trying to be gentle with her as he squeezed her back, but she knew by the way he pressed his face into her hair he needed it just as badly. 

“You saved my life,” He said, his long arms wrapping around her waist, hauling her whole body against his. 

She laughed through a cough, their cheeks brushing past one another as she pulled him in tighter, thankful, relieved. 

“You saved mine,” 

And then she heard Emily. Emily, who sounded frantic and heartbroken as she called for her, her voice breaking as if she was crying, or atleast on the verge of, and as comforting as Spencer’s long arms around her cracked ribs were, she needed to see her sister was okay. 

Ripping herself from his embrace immediately, she tore off after the sound, and there she was. Her older sister, who had always seemed immovable, like she wouldn’t so much as budge for a bucking horse, like water couldn’t drown her, or however many unsubs she’d faced could stop her from catching them. Her older sister, who looked like she’d taken a few punches of her own, judging by the blood on her blue blouse, that looked around the crowd of fleeing people with watery eyes and a shaking bottom lip.

“EMILY,” She yelled, her voice a bleat, a lamb calling for its mother, as she sprinted down the steps, whatever strength she had left carrying her to where Emily was rushing towards her, taking the stairs in threes, “EM-”

She crashed into her sister’s chest, and it was only then she started crying. 

“I swear I’ll never give you trouble again, I’ll never talk back, I’ll never be a bitch ever again-” It was all a slew of mumbles against her sisters shirt, that was beginning to wet through at the rate the tears were coming, “I thought he was going to shoot you-”

“I was so scared, Bug, oh my god,” Emily murmured into her hair, squeezing the life out of her baby sister that sniffled and sobbed, “You don’t ever, ever do that to me again,”

Bugsy shook her head, clawing at Emily’s back as she pulled her closer, feeling Emily stroking her hair softly to calm her even in the slightest. They stayed like that until she managed to wrangle her sobs into little sniffs, the fire burning her eyes where it burned the rest of the church to ashes. 

She stayed with Emily for a month after that. 

+4. The one where you leave the altar. 

She knew she was turning heads, walking down the street of a drizzly day in Virginia, hair wet and sticking to her face, makeup running down her cheeks, and the sodden, dove white wedding dress clasped in her hands as she paced towards the government building. 

Whether the guards recognised her as the Ambassador’s daughter, or whether they really didn’t want to get into it with a bride looking like that on her day, she didn’t know, but they opened the door for her nonetheless, exchanging raised brows as a trail of wet followed her gown over the marble floors. 

Heading up the desk, she flashed her driver's licence, which was enough to gain her a visitors pass she didn’t bother putting to use as she headed for the elevator, her ballet pumps squeaking under the body of the dress. Waiting for the doors to start closing when she finally let a few tears slip, burying her face into her cold, drenched palms, undoubtedly making the mess of mascara even worse. 

Her heart gave a leap when she heard someone stop the doors, hoping she could get to her sister with little delay, and she quickly wiped her face with whatever was left of her pretty, dobby cloth shawl she had yanked on before she’d ran. 

Whatever excuse she was about to give, whatever one liner she was about to drop to clear the awkwardness this agent was about to walk in on was sucked out of her when she saw Spencer staring at her, his briefcase in his hands he’d used to hold the doors, a wide eyed look plastered on his face as soon as he saw her state. 

“Bugsy,” It was somewhere between surprise and sadness, jumping into the elevator before the metal could shut again, the button for the sixth floor already lit up in a ring of red, “What are you- I didn’t even know…”

“Spencer!” As seemed to be a common occurrence between them now, she threw two very cold arms over his shoulders, tugging him for a hug he quickly reciprocated, feeling like she needed it in the moment, “It was so awful, I just couldn’t all those people staring at me, and he- I just feel so-”

“Hey slow down,” He soothed, slipping his favourite cardigan off his body to put over her shoulders, ignoring the way he cringed as it quickly got sodden, “Let’s get you to Emily, I’m sure we can fix this,”

She nodded, though he could tell she was still shaken up, the elevator dinging to a stop on the fifth floor where an agent looked ready to step in, his face dropping when he saw the sight. 

“Sorry, we’re full,” Spencer said, with little room for discussion, pressing the button to close the doors once more, and taking her by the elbow as she began shivering, “We’re gonna be just fine, you look beautiful,”

She laughed sadly with a roll of her eyes, the tears sticking to her cheeks. She knew she looked no better than a drowned rat, windswept and disgruntled, her dress full of muck from the street. 

“Thankyou, Spencer,” She mumbled, the door sliding open to the sixth floor, where Penelope and her everlasting smile greeted her favourite boy genius. 

She almost dropped her glitter pen when she saw the woman stood next to him looking like Dorothy dragged through the twister. 

“Oh you poor little lamb, what has happened to you honey!” She all but cried, the cute little pom poms in her hair bouncing as she brought Bugsy closer, taking her hands tightly. “Your hands are ice! You’ll catch cold with that wet hair, and your gorgeous dress-” 

“Garcia,” Spencer cut her off, though the woman didn’t seem to mind being manhandled into the kind grip, he guessed her state had her letting her guard down, “This is Bugsy, Emily’s little sister.”

Penelope gasped, her ponytails swishing around some more, the gems on her glasses as bright as the light in her eyes as she yanked the younger girl in for a tight hug. 

“It is so nice to meet you! Emily talks about you all the time,” She said, pulling away and fumbling through her pockets for her fresh pink handkerchief she always carried around, mopping up the girl's eyeliner. 

“She-she does?” Bugsy asked, sniffling, her body trembling as the AC beat down through the water ladened on her body. 

“Of course she does, come on, let’s go get you coffee, I have a new machine in my office that makes the best espresso-” Garcia grabbed her hand as if they were kids in the playground, as if she’d known the girl years, which she sort of had. She had, of course, stalked every single one of Emily’s known relatives, even a distant cousin that never left Europe, and that had thrown up the quiet corner of the internet that Bugsy took up.

“I needed to talk to my sister, if that’s okay,” Bugsy braved enough to say, the swishing of her dress on the carpet making her wince, practically hearing the gallon of rain that soaked the expensive fabric. 

“Ofcourse! How silly of me, I’ll bring it out right to you, little bug. You just go with Spencer,” Handing him the handkerchief, she set off towards her ‘bat cave’ in search of a hot beverage for the shivering woman, “Spencer, clean her makeup!” 

He did as he was told, dabbing the water off her face as he led her to the BAU, where Emily and Morgan sat on their desks, chatting as they finished off lunch, Emily flicking through photos on her phone of baby Henry that JJ had sent over to her that morning from maternity leave. 

“He’s just the sweetest little boy, he’s got the biggest blue eyes just like Jayj,” She said through a smile, “You know Will even said-”

“Holy shit-” Morgan cut her off, and she glanced at him, wondering about his use of a curse. Following his eyes over her shoulder, she swivelled in her position to see where Spencer led a very wet, shaken version of her little sister through the doors of the BAU, a snowy ball gown hanging off her, a veil clinging to her hair that had seen much better days. 

“Holy shit,” She agreed, immediately darting for the girl that tugged Spencer’s cardigan tighter to her body, “Bugsy,” 

“Emily, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t take up too much time- I just couldn’t do it- and I know mom’s always saying ‘Bring home a doctor, bring home a rich man,’ but I just couldn’t no matter how rich his daddy is, he wasn’t even too bad-” It all came out in a slur, not making too much sense, and she didn’t stop until Emily held up her hands, as if easing a wild dog. 

“Woah, take it easy, kiddo,” Morgan hushed, as Emily brought a hand over her sister’s cheek, wiping away the last of the mascara, “What happened?”

Bugsy took a deep breath, looking between Emily and Derek, feeling the rain drip down her back. 

“So a few weeks ago, Mom made me go to that stupid debutante ball,” She started, rolling her eyes already as Emily winced, knowing Elizabeth loved any excuse to dress her youngest up like a Barbie doll. 

“I hated those things,” She confessed, shaking her head, “I thought you’d agreed you didn’t have to go to them anymore,”

“That was while I was in college, she said at least I could focus on my studies,” The girl explained, as Garcia tottered back through the office, a steaming cup of coffee in her beloved Bratz mug. Taking it from the chirpy woman, she took a deep gulp, not caring if it burned her mouth as she wished for the damn chill to go away, “Thankyou- But she made me go to this one on the condition she would pay off some of my college loans, and I was dumb enough to fall for her bribe,” 

She huffed, taking another sip, her stomach warming with the hot liquid settling through her throat. 

“You know how she is at these things, she knows everyone, and everyone knows her. I had four guys asking for my dance card within minutes of arriving there, it was like trying to walk through a dog pound wearing a meat suit, all the hand holding, trying to touch my waist- one guy even called me Madam Prentiss,” She grimaced, shuddering at the thought of it, “Madam? No one even calls mom that-”

“Focus,” Emily reminded gently, and she seemed to nod to herself, setting back on track.

“Right. And then he was there. Byron Hastings.” Bugsy said, wrapping her hands around the mug some more. 

“Oh, isn’t he that super yummy bachelor that just inherited his fathers business?” Garcia jumped in, not noticing how it made her wince, “I hear his dad totally owns a bunch of shares in Facebook and as like just signed a deal with a new company that will change the future of computing-” 

“Not now, baby girl,” Morgan said calmly, patting Penelope on her shoulder when she saw the bride’s crestfallen face.

“Right, sorry. Your turn, little bug,” She said, shaking her head and fiddling with her dozen rings. 

“Yeah, that’s him.” She replied, running a slightly warmed finger over her eyelash where rain even collected there, “And you know, I wasn’t complaining, he was certainly easy on the eyes, and he smelled nice, like he just smelled rich, but man alive he was so boring,” She sighed, “I like computers as much as the next girl, no offence, but he didn’t once ask me what I was into or, and when I tried to bring up my degree he just patted me on the head and said ‘That’s nice’ like I was some child that had brought him a pretty colouring or something,”

“Ouch,” Emily grimaced, rubbing her arms over the cardigan to warm her up a little more, “And then?” 

“And eventually, his dad and my mom cut a deal that we’d make a good pair. He said we could be married within the season, and suddenly everyone seemed up for it, and it was like no matter how hard I tried to dig my heels in, no one would listen, and mom just seemed so pleased with me-” She spluttered, sipping her drink to catch her breath, “I just let it happen and just thought, you know, maybe we could learn to like each other, or we could just be like mom and dad and separate in everything but paper,” 

“It’s your life, who is she to tell you how you’re gonna live it,” Emily was outraged, the tip of her nose pink, her dark eyes stormy as her hands fell to her hips, huffing as if it had been her backed into a corner, “I can’t believe she would do this to you,” 

“I was fine with it, really. It's not like its the fifteenth century when I’d be forced to consummate- anyway,” Bugsy rubbed her face, “I just got there, and mom put on my veil and told me I’d make a lovely Mrs Hastings, and just the sound of it- I couldn’t-”

“What on earth is going on?” A new voice cut through the BAU, and the group disbanded like kids caught trading answers to the homework. Rossi and Hotch stood by the unit chief’s office, brows furrowed at the wet bride and his team that tended to her as if she were a princess. 

“Should we be expecting four wet bridesmaids too?” Rossi asked, the two of them making the steps down to the floor, approaching the guilty faced woman, noting Spencer’s cardigan wrapped over her shoulders. 

“Nope, just me,” Her joke fell flat as she met the stony face of Aaron Hotchner, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, “Nice to see you again, Mr Hotchner, sir,” 

His gaze slid to Emily, mouth opening to share whatever scathing remark bounced around his mouth, but the younger girl beat him to it, everyone’s eyebrows raising when she all but cut him off. 

“This wasn’t on Emily, sir, I just showed up out of the blue, I can go- I’ll go- I just need to figure out where I’m staying since I left my purse at the church- don’t you worry I’ll be out of your hair, Aaro- sir,” Bugsy stammered, plonking the mug onto Emily’s desk, backing away to the doors of the office, clutching her visitor pass tight in her fist. 

Maybe it was because she looked so hopeless, or maybe it was the way his team shot him the same look of horror he would be so regimental, or maybe even it was the fact part of her reminded him of Sean, only his brother wouldn’t have had the courtesy to apologise for his mess. 

Sighing, he gestured her to come back, “Wait,” He said her name, her government name because the other one didn’t fit right in his mouth, “Reid, get her some clothes out your go bag. Emily, tell your mother she’s safe and will be staying in Quantico until you can figure something out,” 

Heaving a sigh of relief, she launched her still sodden form at the chief, wrapping him in a stiff hug, bolder than anyone else on the team had ever dared to be. 

“I swear to god, Mr Hotchner, the next letter you're getting will be the best one yet,” She mumbled into his hard chest, and he fought off the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. Patting her on the back gently, he ignored the way his dress shirt wet through. 

–

let me know what you think! mAYBE A FEW MORE PARTS COMING UP ??

Edit: This is a part one of 3 or 4 I have planned, thankyou so much for all the love on this I did not expect the reaction 🥺🥺

[livelaughlove0ntour]

Safe with You - Regulus Black x potter! reader

a/n: THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I ABSOLUTELY ADORE IT. (6558 words)

warnings: mention of abuse, smoking, hurt/comfort, kissing, background wolfstar and (barely mentioned) rosekiller

You didnt remember a time where Regulus Black didnt hate you.

Being James Potters younger sibling, most of his friends were also yours, so when sirius started talking about how much he hates his family , including Regulus you didnt question it much, but you never really had anything against him personally.

But it didnt help that, from the beginning of yours and Regulus first year he was pretty much a dickhead. He made it a point to be better than everyone and to tell them so. 

That started a rivalry between the both of you. Battleing for top of the class. 

All of this only got worse when, in the middle of the winter holidays in your 5th year, Sirius appeared at your doorstep, bleeding and asking for help.

After that point Regulus made sure to show you how much he hated you even more.

You just assumed that he hated you because of your family. Blood-traitors. 

In the beginning of your 6th year you had started to sneak away onto the astronomy  tower a lot of nights. 

It was nice up here. Quiet. You found solitude from the stressful schoolday and your Brother and his friends. You loved them, of course. But it was a lot of pressure. Most people just saw you as James sibling. And they expected you to be like him. It was honestly really exhausting.

Your parents didnt help a lot either. As much as they said they loved you equally, you always felt like James and now Sirius were more important to them. You were just the perfect little sibling. You were quiet and you had good grades so they didnt need to worry much about you. You felt neglected. But you also understood them. James didnt try as much in school, concentraiting more on pranks than homework and Sirius obviously had a lot to deal with because of his past.

So you snuck away when everyone was sleeping. In your pyjamas and a jacket you quiely left the common room and went to he astronomy tower. 

When you arrived you didnt pay much attention to your surroundings and so you didnt notice the other person that was sitting against the outside wall of the tower. You had already pulled out the pack of cigarettes that you had nicked from Sirius a week prior and were beginning to light it when you stepped against the railing. 

Taking a drag and pulling the cigarette away from your mouth you finally heard shuffling behind you. You quickly turn your head, scared that you're gonna find a prefect, or worse, Filch behind you. But instead you see a boy sitting a few meters away from you, his back to the wall of the tower, his dark hair covering his face. 

"Sorry i didnt realize someone was here." 

He finally looks up at you and you finally see his face.

"Black? The fuck are you doing here?" Your voice is a mix of confusion and annoyance at he fact that your solitide was disturbed by him of all people.

"I could ask you he same thing Potter." His voice was quiet and annoyed. Like he didnt want to deal with this right now. He sounded exhausted.

And at a second glance he looked it too. He had dark bags under his eyes and if you looked closely you could see a bruise at the side of his face. You didnt remember seeing it earlier during potions class but maybe he had covered it with magic. 

You had the urge to comment on it but remembered all the things thatt sirius would tell you about his parents and you had a feeling it had something to do with that. And that was a topic that you were sure wouldnt end well.

So you settled on "You look like shit."

He didnt answer and only looked at you even more annoyed. 

Shrugging, you simply looked away from him and lifted your cigarette back to your lips.

Regulus didnt move from his spot, so you assumed that he didnt care much that you were there.

You didnt feel like standing any longer, so you sat against the same wall regulus was sat against, now only a meter between the two of you. afer a few seconds you held out the pack of cigarettes to him .

"want one?" 

He took one without a word and you handed him your lighter when he put it beween his lips.

After that the two of you sat in silence looking at the nightsky. After almost 30 minutes of sitting in silence, you slowly moved to stand up.

"Well... I better go to bed. goodnight Black." 

You had only taken a step or two when Regulus spoke up for the first time since you got there.

"If you tell anyone i was here, you're dead potter."

You turn to him with a small smile.

"I wont. If i did i would have to tell them that i was here."

With that you left, leaving regulus confused on why you wouldnt want anyone knowing you were there. He left shortly after you did.

That night started a routine of you going up to the tower to find regulus either already there or arriving a few minutes later. You would sit in silence together, smoking a cigarette or two, before leaving again. Neither of you ever talked much.

During the day both of you acted like you always did. Like you werent sitting next to each other in almost friendly silence a few hours prior.

You never told your brother or any of your friends about it.

At some point you had started to talk to him instead of just sitting in silence. Not much. And certainly not anything of sustance. Mostly just complaining about professors and homework. But he never complained about it. He never said anything to be honest. He just sat and listened in silence. This continued almost every night unil the winter holidays.

You were standing on platform 9 3/4 with your family and Sirius, saying goodbye to your parents when you noticed Sirius glaring at something past your head. Turning around you see Regulus and his parents. Regulus looked even more exhausted than usual and even from the distance you could see him tensing up as his father put his hand on Regulus shoulder.

Something had happened over the holydays, you could tell.

James voice ripped you out of your thoughts. "Hey what are you two staring at?"

"Nothing." 

You answer immediately, turning back around and hugging your parents one last time. 

"Come on or we'll miss the train." 

That night during dinner you kept catching yourself looking at Regulus. Each time you seemed to notice a new reason to worry.

First how tense he seemed, then his eyebags, worse than you've ever seen them, how he fully ignored all his friends, how he made sure that his hair was alwas covering his left cheekbone and temple, how he seemed to constantly have a hand holding his ribs.

At one point you cought his eyes, giving him the slightest smile, hoping no one else caught it. 

You mouthed 'astronomy tower' hoping that he saw it, before turning back to your friends to answer the question that Marlene had just asked.

That night when you arrived at the tower Regulus was already there, sitting with his back against the wall and his head down, just like he first time you met him there. 

But this time when you sat next to him and he looked up at you, you could see the tears in his eyes threatening to fall. Without a word you pulled him into a hug, his head laying against your shoulder, and just held him as his tears finally spilled.

He didnt make a sound, he just silently let his tears fall. And you held him through it.

It took him about 20 minutes before he pulled away from you. He didn dare look into your face, just sitting right next to you staring at the stars.

After a minute or so of you observing his face you finally asked softly.

"What happened?"  

He didnt say anything for a few seconds. He didnt react at all. You thought maybe he didnt hear you but right as you opened you mouth to ask again, he finally answered.

"How much has Sirius told you about our family?" His voice was quiet and broken.

"A lot. He's told us pretty much anything they would do to him." 

He took a deep breath before he talked again, still refusing to look at you.

"When he was still there, they never really did anything to me. But when he left..." He swallowed "they needed someone else to blame all their problems on. They started to find faults in me. I pretty much became Sirius replacement. When they were angry they let it out on me. The night he left was the worst. I had begged him too stay. But he didnt. He just left me there. And they let all their anger about the situation out on me."

 His voice was shaky and quiet. He sounded unsure if he should be telling you this.

You honestly were surprised that he told you this. Even if you had been "hanging out" for almost half a year now. You didnt think he trusted you like this. And he proboaly didnt.

"Regulus.." His name left your mouth in a whisper. You had never called him by his first name before. 

Hearing his name out of your mouth finally made him look at you.

You slowly grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "I'm so sorry.." 

His gaze drifted from you face to your now joined hands. You expected him to pull his hand away but he just looked away at the stars again.

Neither of you said anything else.

That night was a turning point for both of you.

You stopped being hateful to each other in public. You werent friendly either. It was a silent truce. Your rivalry for top of the class was still there but it was less hateful.

Your nightly meetings slowly turned into talking about feelings. He told you about his friends, the few that were actually decent. Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch jr and Pandora Lestrange. Those were the three that actually semed pretty nice. According to Regulus they didnt really care that much about blood  status, Regulus didnt either. He had learned a lot from Sirius perspective, he was just way more scared of their parents, so he hid his opinions. 

You told him about your family problems, even though they were miniscule in comparison. About how you always felt like you stood in james shadow. 

Over time you and Regulus had come to a point were you honestly considered each other friends.

You still didnt tell any of your friends or you brother about it. You knew they wouldnt take it well.

But all of them noticed a change in you. How you seemed happier.

"Are you dating someone?" 

You nearly choked on your food, when Marlene asked that all of the sudden during dinner. 

"What?!" All conversation between your friends had halted as they all looked at you expectantly. "No! Why would you think that?" 

James looked stupidly relieved at that. He never liked the thought of you dating someone. 

It was Sirius that answered your question.

"Oh, c'mon. Even a blind person can see that you act different." You just looked at him confused. so he clarified. "You are so much happier, you constantly smile at nothing, you zone out. You're either dating someone or you have a big fat crush on someone. So go on. Spill." 

Your eyes widen in shock. Had you really been that obvious? Yes ,during the past few months you may have developed a little cush on the younger Black. But c'mon that obvious? 

But obviously you couldnt tell your friends that. Especially not Sirius and James. They would die of a heart attack on the spot.

"Do you really think if i had a crush on someone i wouldnt tell any of you? Not even Marlene or Lilly?" That was a good safe. Because yes, you usually told the girl pretty much every detail of your life. Even when you had a crush on Remus back in 4th year before you knew that he was gay. And very much in love with Sirius.

Sirius deflated on that. "Yea.. i guess that is true."

They finally picked up their previous conversations and you stole a quick glance at the slytherin table. But instead of Regulus eyes you met those of Evan Rosier. 

He had his eyes already on you and winked at you with a sly grin when our eyes met. Next to him Regulus had noticed that exchange and hit Evan in the side with his elbow. You looked at them confused as Regulus angrily whispered something to Evan who just laughed in reply.

Had Regulus told them? You made a mental note to ask him that night.

When your eyes finally went back to your friends you met Remus eyes who just lifted one eyebrow and smiled knowingly at you. 

You ignored him and went back to eating.

Later that evening you were sat in the common room doing potions homework when Remus excused himself from the boys to walk over to you. You looked up at him for a second as he sat down next to you before going back to writing. 

"You know, at some point they're gonna find out." 

"I have no idea what you're talking about Rem." He couldnt know. Right?

"Yea you do. You know, you're lucky that i'm the one that keeps the map most nights."

At that you froze. Your quill a few centimeters over your parchment. 

The map. 

Shit.

How did you forget about that.

Remus noticed your stressed facial expression. 

"They dont know. I havent told them dont worry. " You relaxed a little at that. "But you know its only a matter of time before one of them finds out."

You let out a breath that you didnt realize you were holding before putting down your quill, frowning at the spot of ink on you parchment, that had dripped from the quil. 

"How long have you known?" 

"Right before The holidays." 

"Rem that is so long! Why didnt you tell me that you know?!" You whisper yelled to make sure none of the other boys heard you.

"I wanted you to tell me when you were ready."

Your face softens. Of course. You dont answer.

"Sooooooo... you want to talk about it? He sure has you happy so he clearly cant be that bad." He says with a smile.

"You have no idea." You grin.

That conversation led to an almost 1 hour long talk of you talking about Regulus. How nice he is. How attractive, because god did you find him attractive. You told him about Regulus friends. How you think that at least Evan knows. Why Regulus is actually mad at Sirius. Everything. Because you knew that Remus wouldnt tell anyone. He has always been good at keeping secrets.

"You are so whipped for him, oh my god.." He told you at the end of your rant with a small chuckle.

You felt your face get hot. "Oh fuck off. Like you arent evenly as whipped for Sirius."

"Oh low blow." You just stuck out your toungue at him in response.

Remus then got a little more serious again. "Are you gonna tell him that you like him?"

You bit the inside of your lip. "I dont know Rem. I dont think he likes me like that and i dont wanna destroy something good yk."

"Yea i know what you mean." He looks over at Sirius.

You change the topic slightly. "So, uhh.. take the map tonight?"

He looks back at you with a grin. "Yea i got it. I'm gonna go back to the others. You finish that homework before you leave tonight."

"Yea, yea, whatever."

That night your walk to the astronomy tower is interrupted.

"Oi Potter!" You stop and turn around in surprise to see a ginning Evan Rosier.

"Rosier? What do you want?" 

"Oh nothing really" He is a bad liar. "Where're you headed to after curfew?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "I dont see why that is any of your business."

He knows. And you know that.

"Alright fine. I know you're meeting with Reg." You sigh and turn back around to continue your walk to the tower.  Evan quickly follows you.

"Listen, Reg kinda let it slip that you guys have been meeting up." 

"Okay? That still doesnt answer why youre talking to me right now."

"Well our Reggie seems pretty over the moon with you so i wanted to see for myself. He likes you you know. Like a lot." He is grinning from ear too ear now. 

But its what he said that makes you pause in your steps for a second. 

"What?"

"Oh yea, boy is smitten." He grins but immediately notices his mistake and his smile drops. "No wait. Forget i said that. You didnt hear anything okay?"

Your face is flushed now. Did Evan just tell you that Regulus likes you? Like... Like liked you?

"Uhm- Right."

"But just hypothetically... if you did hear something.... Would that something be reciprocated or not? Because if it was i wouldnt feel so bad for you hypothetically hearing something."

You dont even know what to say to that. You really didnt want to tell Evan about your crush on Regulus. Sure he trusts Evan but you really didnt know the guy.

"None of your business Rosier." You start walking again, while Evan just stays were he is. 

"Im taking that as a yes. Dont tell Reg that i hypothetically told you that. Im not ready to die yet." 

"Whatever Rosier!"

Your thoughts are racing. Regulus likes you. Except Evan is just trying to mess with you. But that doesnt seem like something he would do. Atleast not from what Regulus told you.

You are so in thought that you almost dont notice Regulus waiting when you reach the top of the tower.

You only snap out of it when you hear him call your name. 

"You good?"

"Hm? Oh yea. Sorry, just thinking." You sit down next to him, like always and pull out your pack of cigarettes. You kept stealing them from Sirius and he kept wondering how they keep dissappearing.

"About?" 

"Rosier just talked to me." You werent gonna tell him about the hypothetical thing Evan told you. But you were definetely gonna talk to him about the fact that Evan knew.

"Evan? Why?" He reached over, pulling a cigarette out of your pack without asking.

"He knows?" Was all you answered as you pull your lighter out of your jacket.

Regulus laughed nervously. "Uh- yea, i mightve slipped up on that. Sorry. I swear he wont tell anyone." 

"Its fine, you can tell your friends as long as they keep it to themselfs." You lift your lighter to light your own cigarette, when Regulus suddenly leans into your space to light his cigarette at the same time as yours. His face only centimeters away from yours. 

You flush. Fuck that was hot. He leans back with a slight grin. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"Any of your friends know?" He asks as if he didnt just do that. Fucker.

"Well.. Remus knows. I didnt tell him. He figured it out on his own." You stammer out. 

Goddamn it. 

"Lupin? Makes sense. Hes smart. He knows everything." 

"Yea except for the fact that Sirius is painfully obvious in love with him. Thats the one thing he doesnt seem to notice."

"Wait what?" He seems confused. Shit. Did you just out Sirius to his brother? You thought he knew.

"Did- Did you not know Sirius is gay?"

"No, that much is obvious." Oh thank god. "I meant, Those two arent a couple?"

That makes you laugh. 

"No! They've been in love with each other for years but are the only ones that havent realized it yet."

Regulus is both surprised and amused by that information.

"They had me fooled. I thought they've been together for forever." He's barely holding back his laughter.

"Nope just incedibly dense. Both of them." 

Neither of you can stop the laughter at that point.

You think that this might be the most genuine laughter and smile you've ever seen from Regulus. 

Your laughter dies down a little as you look at him. His head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open in a bright grin as he laughs. He looks beautiful.

You just stare for a few seconds, with a soft smile on your face.

He stops laughing and notices your staring.

"What?" He asks, smile still on his face.

"You're Beautiful." You answer without thinking about it.

When you see his pale face flush a light pink shade in surprise you realize what you just said and look away in embarrassment.

"I- Uh- I mean.." Fuckfuckfuck. Why did you just say that. Its true yea, but still. Oh my god. You are such an idiot.

"So are you." Those three words are all it takes for your rambling thoughts to dissapper fully. 

Brain empty.

You look back at him. His face is still a little pink but he has a little smile adorning his lips.

You dont know what to answer so you just stare in silence. Evans words from earlier come back to your mind.

Well our Reggie seems pretty over the moon with you ,so i wanted to see for myself. He likes you you know. Like a lot.

FUCK. You are a goner at this point.

Luckily for you Regulus seems to notice your inner turmoil and changes the conversation to something easier without a second thought.

"So, did you finish that potions homework yet?"

You are honestly thankful thatt he is just able to do that. Make you think about something else.

But for the rest of the night, hell for the rest of the week all you can think about is that moment.

The next day all your friends can tell that you are even more in thought than usual but they know better than to press on it.

Except for Remus. Between classes he pulls you aside to ask what happened. You tell him everything. 

From Evans slip up to Regulus calling you beautiful.

"Thats great! To me thats a clear sign that he likes you too." 

"But Rem what if i'm misinterpreting?!"

"You literally have confirmation from his best friend."

You dont have more time to talk about it because both of you have to get to your next classes.

But you keep thinking about the whole thing.

You could tell that something had changed between Regulus and you. Not in a bad way, you dont think.

You caught him looking at you more often. During meals, during class, during your meetings. You noticed because you were also looking at him more often. 

Eye contact for a few seconds to long and smiling before one of you would look away.

This went on for about two weeks. How often had you thought about kissing him during those two weeks? You had lost count. 

Then one night, Regulus had just made a joke that you had both laughed at for far to long, and when you finally stopped you realized how close you faces had gotten. 

Regulus had noticed too.

You were staring at each other, you eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back up. Your tongue darting out to wet your lips in a nervous tick as you caught his eyes looking at your lips too.

You subconciously moved even closer, noses now centimeters away from brushing against each other.

Regulus is the one that asks in almost a whisper "Can I kiss you?"

You cant get any words out so you simply nod your head ever so slightly.

Regulus leans towards you, closing the gap between you in a soft kiss. 

Its not heated, not rushed, its slow, soft and full with emotions.

Its perfect.

When you part, neither of want to fully pull back. Your noses still almost touching.

After a few second you gain your voice back and admit in a whisper.

"I really like you Regulus"

"Merlin I would hope so." He answers with chuckle. "I like you too."

You lean in to kiss him again. 

And again.

The rest of that night included a lot more kisses. As well as a talk about what you you were to each other. You were glad about that. Not knowing would have killed you probably.

You both came to the conclusion that you wouldnt be telling people (Except the ones that you trusted) but that you are in fact dating.

You wished that you could stay like that all night but unfortunately both of you needed sleep.

"Goodnight Reg" 

You kissed him one more time before starting to walk away, his hand in yours as long  as you could.

"Goodnight mon cherie." You smiled to yourself all the way back to your dorm.

The next morning Remus knew. He just knew it from one look at you. You were honestly so glad that he knew and you were able to tell him everything.

The last few months until summer went well. Hang outs, kisses and talking. Regulus also at some point properly introduced you to Evan. Honestly the two of you hit it of really well. 

The closer summer got, the more nervous both you and Regulus got. 

He would have to go back to his parents and you wouldnt be able to write each other without his parents asking questions.

You spent the last night before summer in eachothers arms, telling him to be careful. You didnt want to part from each other but reluctantly did so right before sunrise with a long, loving kiss.

That morning both of you kept stealing glances at each other, Remus doing his best to ease your worries.

On the platform you barely had enough time to see Regulus dissappear with his parents.

"You coming?" You turned around at James question.

"Yeah."

The first half of the summer was pretty uneventful, even though you still worried about Regulus.

For the second half, Remus had joined your family.

A week later you were helping your mother prepare dinner when you heard a soft knock on your front door.

Confused you turned toward Euphemia.

"Are we expecting someone mum?"

"Not that i know of. Would you mind checking who it is darling?"

"Sure." You quickly put down the plate you were previously holding and went to answer the door.

On the other side was the last person you expected to see. 

"Reggie?" Your voice filled with worry and almost a whisper. 

Regulus looked bad. Almost worse than Sirius when he appeared at your doorsttep a year and a half prior. He was bleeding and bruised, and looked like he was minutes away from keeling over.

His eyes met yours, filled with tears that were steadily flowing down his cheeks.

"I didnt know were else to go..." His voice was hoarse like he had been screaming and shaky from crying.

Before he had even finished his sentence he had stepped towards you, nearly falling into your arms. You hugged him back while pulling him back into the house with you with a small "cmon..".

Inside you let go of him, carefully guiding him into the living room and onto your couch only stopping near the kitchen to yell to your mother.

"Mum! We need the healing kit!"

Your mother immediately stuck her head out the kitchen door to see what was going on.

"Oh dear." She quickly left to get the kit.

Meanwhile you had carefully sat Regulus onto your couch,sitting next to him and holding his hand, scared that hugging would hurt him. You didnt need to ask what had happened. That much was pretty obvious.

"Regulus." You urged him to look at you with a small squeeze of your hand. "Hey.. Its gonna be okay. Your safe now. I promise."

He didnt answer but layed his forehead onto your shoulder and squezed you hand back. He was still crying although not as hysterically anymore.

Euphemia entered the room, healing kit in hand and carefully sat infront of Regulus on the floor. You had done this before so she knew to be careful as not to scare him.

"Regulus right?" Her voice was soft and quiet as if she was talking to a scared animal. He didnt react so you nodded at your mother to confirm that she had the right name.

"Regulus, I'm gonna heal you now. But i have to touch you for that. Is that alright with you?"

Regulus nodded ever so slightly with his head still against your shoulder. Euphemia caught the slight movement and immediately started to examine the extent of his injuries before starting to heal them one by one. It would take a while and she wouldnt be able to heal all of them fully right that moment. It had been the same with Sirius.

You quietly soothed him through all of it. Continuing to hold his hand, your thumb stroking over the back of his hands while you whispered comforting words into his ear.

Unfortunately in the middle of all this our brother and Sirius had decided to make their entrance.

"Hey mum, is dinner almost ready?" James asked while he and Sirius came down the stairs.

But before Euhemia could answer you heard both boys exclaim at the same time.

"What the fuck??!"

"Regulus?!"

Both of you looked up at them at the same time. Regulus face still stained with tears and blood.

Sirius made his way over in a instant, sitting beside your mother and grasping Regulus other hand in his bigger ones. His eyes were filled with worry. Of course they were. Even if him and Regulus werent on good terms, he was still his brother. And seeing him like that made him fall back into that role within seconds.

"Shit, what happened?? Did they..??" He didnt finish his sentence. He didnt have to. Because he also knew. 

Regulus started tearing up again and turned his head towards you to try and hide it.

You instantly hugged him against you in comfort, your second hand reaching up to the back of his head to cradle it against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

"Sssh, its okay Reg." Your face pressed against the side of his head a told him that.

Your eyes met James over Regulus head. He just stood there perplexed. Not only was Regulus fucking Black bleeding in his living room, but he also cuddled up close to his sister like they were close.

You knew that you had a lot of explaining to do later, but right now you had different priorities.

So you ignored James and continued talking to Reglulus in a quite voice to help him calm down, occasionally pressing little kisses to his temple and hair.

When your mother was done, she slowly got up. "I'll leave you guys alone for a bit. If you need something just call." 

She left the room at the same time as Remus entered, having come down to see what was taking the boys so long.

Remus quickly hid his surprise at the fact that Regulus was here and simply asked "Is he okay?".

You simply looked at him and said "He will be."

After that you all sat in silence for a few minutes, only disruted by Regulus quiet sniffeles.

When he had finally calmed down again he still refused to let go of you.

Remus was the first to speak up. 

"I think he should take a shower, get all that blood of him. Prongs, Padfoot, wait in the kitchen well join you in a minute." 

Both boys started to protest but Remus wasnt having it and herded them to the kitchen looking back at you for a second.

" I got it Rem."

You helped Regulus up, guiding him to the bathroom.

Once you were there you closed the door behind you and turned towards Regulus.

He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you towards him. Being close to you always comforted him.

You reached up to carefully hold his face in your hands. 

"Are you okay?" Worry was evident in your eyes and voice.

"Now that im with you i will be." He answered quietly, leaning down to lay his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

Your quiet moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Hey." Remus. "Can i come in? I got you some clothes."

You pulled away from Regulus and opened the door, stepping aside slightly so Remus could hand Regulus the stack of dark clothing. 

"They're Sirius, so the should fit you." He then looked at you. "They have a lot of questions. You should come downsairs and talk to them."

You sigh. This was what you were scared of. "Okay, I'll be down is a few."

Remus nodded and sent one last smile at the two of you before leaving.

You turned towards Regulus again. "Do you need help with anything or are you good?" 

"I think im good" And then quieter. " Thank you. You dont understand how much all of this means to me." 

You smile at him and step closer to press a small kiss to his lips. "Of course. Im here for you. Always." Before leaving him to shower, closing the door behind you.

You take a deep breath before beginning your way to the kitchen. Halfway there you could already hear your brother.

"Why are you so calm about this Moony?! Did you know?!"

"Prongs will you calm down?"

"No-" 

All conversation halted when you entered the kitchen, all eyes turning to you.

James looked both confused and near furious and Sirius just looked confused. Like he wasnt sure what to make of the whole situation yet.

"Explain." Is all James said as he said down at the table and pointed at the chair across from him.

You said down and so did Sirius next to James, and Remus, next to you.

"After summer last year, I've started to go to the astronomy tower at night. Just for some peace and quiet, away from everything you know. 

One night he was there too. A few days after school start. He didnt really say anything. We just sat together. He didnt look good. Like, really tired and he had this giant bruise on his face. He had it hidden during the day, but that night i saw it. I didnt say anything about it, but i knew it was from his parents. 

After that night we just kept meeting there. We didnt talk, we really just sat in silence with each other. At some point i started to tell him about my day. He never said anything but he also kept coming."

You looked from James betrayed eyes down to your hands that layed intertwined with each other on the table.

"Then after christmas break, he looked so much worse than before. And that night he broke down. And he told me everything. About his parents. And how much worse the got after Sirius left." 

Your eyes flicked to Sirius face. Guilt written all over it.

"After that we just started talking to each other. About anything. He even introduced me to a few of his friends. They're honestlyy really nice. They dont support their parents ideas really. And a few months ago..."

You looked at Remus. His expression encouraging you to continue. 

Fuck it. Just rip of the bandaid.

"A few months ago we kissed and we've kinda been dating since then." Your eyes were glued to a little scratch in the surfice of the table. Refusing to meet James or Sirius glances.

"WHAT?!"

"Prongs. Calm down. I think they're good for each other. Its their life. Not yours." Thank merlin that Remus exists. You didnt know what you would do without him.

"How long have you known about is Moony?!"

Remus looked down for a second before meeting James eyes again. "Right before christmas."

James was about to answer something probably dumb, when Sirius suddenly turned towards you.

"I cant believe you wouldnt tell me you were in a relationship."

You chuckled nervously. "Thats the part that bothers you about this?"

"YES! And also I'm trying to focus on something that isnt the fact that your DATING MY LITLE BROTHER... so i dont freak out." You could tell that he was really trying.

"Im sorry i didnt tell you. I was just worried how you would react." You said apologetically.

"For good reason." Remus mumbled making you smile slightly.

James face softened. "Well.. as much as i dont agree with this. And i dont. For the record. Remus is right. Its your life. But if he tries to pull something you tell me alright? And ill take care of it."

"Oi thats my little brother your talking about!" That made you smile. At least they're trying. "But seriously, if he tries something you tell us." 

"He wont. But thank you." You smile at them. Remus laying his hand on your shoulder making you look over at him.

Then Sirius half joking, half serious voice makes you look at him again.

"But seriously my brother? Why? Out of everyone."

"Wow Sirius. I feel kind of attacked." At the sound of Regulus voice you quickly turn around.

He stood a meter behind your chair , black hair wet and tousled, his tall slim frame clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a black sabbath shirt. 

"Reg. How're you feeling?" Your voice was still filled with worry even though Regulus already looked a lot better. You held your hand out towards him, beconing him closer.

He took your hand, walking over to sit in the open chair to your left. Remus being on your right.

"Better." He said a soft smile on his face, as he just looked at you for a moment.

You smiled back at him before saying "I think we should get mum back and finish making dinner. You hungry?" 

"Starving." It sounded like a joke but honestly with his parents you could never know.

"Remus, make sure they're being civil okay?" You spoke as you got up, squeezing Regulus shoulder in passing. "I'll be right back."

Just as you left the room you could hear Sirius whine. "Moony we're always civil! I dont know what they mean."

"Yea yea Padfoot whatever you say." You could pracicaly hear the adoring smile in Remus voice.

Surprisingly when you came back with your mother, no one was dead. 

Your mother had pulled both you and James with her to help with the food, giving him the perfect oppertunity to keep asking you annoying questions about you and Regulus. 

Remus offered to set the table, giving Sirius and Regulus a chance to talk. Something they hadnt properly done in years. You didnt hear what they said but it ended in a hug so at least it was good.

Dinner was kind of awkward. Your Dad having to quickly be filled in on what happened when he arrived in the kitchen.

Regulus was given the guest room to sleep in, Remus had been sleeping in James and Sirius room anyways. So when you were sure he three boys were in bed you snuck into the guest room, cuddling up with Regulus under the blanket.

"I saw you speaking with Sirius earlier." He hummed in reply, his face hidden in your hair, his left arm around your waist, holding you close to him.

"Did you talk everything out?" You turn slightly in his hold so you could look a him. Your faces now right infront of each oher.

"Not everything. Thats gonna take a while. But he apologized. Its a start." His voice was low and tired.

" Thats good. I know how much you both missed each other." Again he simply hummed in response.

"I think we should sleep." You say with a grin. "You're barely awake anyway." Another hum.

You lean forward for a soft kiss. He kissed back. "Goodnight mon cherie."

You smile. "Sleep well Reggie." 

He cuddled back into you, his face against your neck, arms holding you close, legs tangled with yours.

You smile at his almost asleep form. 

He was okay. 

He was safe.

And he was yours.

And maybe. Just maybe. You would be okay.

[livelaughlove0ntour]

If I Kiss You, I’m Sorry Part 8

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘈 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘠/𝘕 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦… 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵.

News of you and James’ breakup spread like wildfire. By the following morning it seemed as if everyone knew. And by the third day, they were done pretending they didn’t.

If you thought you had eyes on you before, it’s nothing compared to the attention you’re getting now. Everybody seemed to have questions. Who broke up with who? Is Lily going to make a move now that James is single? More importantly, who are you going to be dating next? It’s no lie that everyone was shocked when you and James became an item. That was a pairing nobody saw coming. And if James Potter of all people had a chance, doesn’t every other boy in school?

It’s almost frightening how quickly everything went back to normal. You went from spending every moment of free time with James, to walking right past him without so much as a glance in his direction. It was like it always had been; with you not noticing James and him stealing glances at you whenever he could. Only it was worse than before because James went from daydreaming about being with you, to actually being with you, to losing you.

The marauders are hanging about the courtyard planning their next prank when they hear a name that gets all of their attention.

“Y/N!”

James automatically turns his head, but the tree he’s leaning against blocks you completely from his view.

“Hey…” you greet cautiously, coming to a stop in front of the dark haired Hufflepuff. “Garrett, right?”

“Actually it’s-yeah! Garrett!” he confirms, pointing to himself, surprised that you knew his name.

“What’s up?” you ask with a laugh.

“Oh! I just wanted to say that I was sorry to hear about you and James…”

“Oh…It’s okay.” you shrug. “These things happen.”

“I must say, I was shocked when I heard the news.” Garrett continues. “You two really seemed in love.”

James holds his breath, wondering what you’ll say.

“Eighteen is an inconvenient time to be in love.” you sigh with a tense smile. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh absolutely.” Garrett nods. “Love is overrated. Which is why I was thinking, why not go out with me?”

“Sorry?” you ask, looking at Garrett with a confused frown.

“Yeah! You and me, we’d be the hottest couple Hogwarts has ever seen!”

“Um, well I just got out of a relationship.” You remind him. “I’m not really looking-“

“For love. Yeah, I know. And I’m not offering it.” Garrett tells you with a smirk.

Anger courses through James as he listens to the conversation. He gets up, prepared to go over there when Sirius puts a hand on his chest, keeping him in place.

“It’s not your fight anymore, mate.” Sirius tells him with a grimace.

James glares at him before sighing, nodding his head in defeat as he leans against the tree again. As much as he hates to admit it, Sirius is right. It isn’t James’ place anymore to get involved.

“I’m not looking for anything right now.” you reiterate with a shake of your head.

“Come on! You’re that quick to shoot me down? At least give me a chance.” Garrett whines with a fake pout.

“Garrett,” you sigh, trying to think of something to say.

Remus, feeling bad for both you and James, decides to just put everyone out of their misery. He doesn’t miss the grateful look from James as he pushes himself off of the tree, turning the corner and coming to a stop right beside you.

“You don’t have a chance.” Remus tells Garrett with a polite grin. “And clearly no shame either.”

“I beg your pardon?” Garrett asks, looking between you and Remus in confusion.

“Do you really need me to insult you again?” Remus asks, tilting his head to the side. “Was the first time not enough? Or were you just to stupid to realize it?”

“What a fucking prat,” Garrett mumbles to himself as he walks away.

You sigh in relief before giving Remus a grateful smile.

“Thanks for saving me.”

“Don’t forget you’re single now. The guys are gonna be all over you.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “It was nice while it lasted.”

“What? Being left alone or being in a relationship with James?”

“See you around, Rem.” You say, giving him a sad smile before walking away.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You’re not the only one getting more attention than usual. It seems as if every boy in the bloody school has something to say to James. The amount of times he’s heard “I can’t believe you let her get away” and “Thanks for blowing it” is unreal. Someone even shamelessly asked James what he did wrong, so that they don’t “make the same mistake”.

And then there’s Lily, who’s made it her life’s purpose to be everywhere James is, much to the marauder’s annoyance. He was hoping to get some time to himself today at Hogsmeade; he was looking forward to it! But of course, things could never be that simple. James had just finished ranting to Sirius and Remus about how Lily had crashed his solo Hogsmeade trip when Peter burst into the room.

“What are you doing?” Remus asks when he sees Peter digging through his chocolate stash.

“I’m taking your fudge flies. I’ll pay you back.” Peter says, holding up the carton package in victory.

“No.” Remus says, snatching the box back. “If you wanted more sweets, you should have gone to Hogsmeade yourself.”

“I had other plans,” Peter whines, trying to grab the box. “But I need them!”

“Here. You can have this.” Remus offers, handing Peter a chocolate frog instead.

“No,” Peter shakes his head. “I don’t want that.”

“You like these!” Remus argues.

“It has to be fudge flies.” Peter insists, still trying to steal the box back.

“Why?” Remus groans in exasperation.

“Because they’re Y/N’s favorite!”

The dorm goes silent at that, everyone freezing before turning their gaze to Peter. Peter seizes the opportunity, snatching the box of fudge flies out of Remus’ hands and holding them to his chest.

“Wormtail…are you still hanging out with Y/N?” Remus asks, cautiously throwing a glance to James.

“Um…no?” Peter offers.

“Wormtail…” Remus calls.

“What do you want from me? I’m a child of divorce, okay?!” Peter defends.

“Peter,” Remus groans. “For the love of-“

“I can’t believe you!” Sirius tells him. “Y/N’s the one who broke up with James in the first place. And here you are, fraternizing with the enemy.”

“I’m fraternizing?” Peter repeats incredulously before pointing at James. “James went to Hogsmeade with Lily!”

“How do you even know that?” Sirius asks in confusion. “It literally just happened!”

“I didn’t plan on it!” James interrupts. “She just showed up!”

“That’s such a load of bull! Lily told Y/N she was going to Hogsmeade with you!” Peter tells him, still holding the box of fudge flies to his chest.

“What?” James asks, confused. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! I was with her when it happened! She was helping me with my alchemy assignment since you lot kept forgetting.”

“Lily said she was going with me?” James asks, more to himself than to Peter. She said that Marlene and Dorcas ditched her at the last minute. Was that a lie she said just to get close to him?

“What did Y/N do?” James finds himself asking before he can stop himself.

“Nothing.” Peter shrugs. “She said she hoped you’d have a good time together but then-“

“Then?” James asks, urging Peter to continue.

“Nothing.” Peter says, avoiding his gaze.

“Wormtail,” James sighs. “Just tell me.”

“I don’t know…she got really quiet after that.” Peter tells him. “She seemed sad.”

“She has no reason to be sad.” Sirius scoffs. “She’s the one who broke up with him in the first place.”

“When was this?” James asks, ignoring Sirius altogether.

“Thursday?” Peter mumbles with a shrug.

“Peter!” James groans. “If I had known Lily was plotting to go to Hogsmeade with me, I could’ve done something to stop it! Why didn’t you say anything sooner?!”

“I forgot!” Peter shouts.

Everyone starts arguing at that point; Sirius calling Peter a traitor, Peter defending himself for still hanging out with you, Remus saying that they did technically forget to help Peter with his assignment in the first place. While all the screaming is going on, James digs through his trunk before approaching Peter, handing him a packet of sour slugs.

“Here. Take her these, too. If she eats too much chocolate, she needs to have something sour.”

“How do you even know that?” Sirius asks.

“Because she’s my-“ James starts, only to cut himself off, shaking his head with a sad smile. “Was. She was my girlfriend.”

Remus gives James a sympathetic smile as Peter cautiously takes the candy from him.

“Wait! Not my fudge flies!” Remus groans as Peter runs out of the room.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

James waits for Lily to be distracted before he slips out of the party. Ever since the break up, she’s made it a habit to be close to him. She crashed his Hogsmeade trip, she changed her schedule so they could do rounds together, she even started sitting with the marauders in the great hall. And James hates it because when Lily’s around, you’re all he can think about.

James takes a seat on the bench and undoes the clasp of the locket, spinning it around in his hands as he remembers all the time you used to sit out here together, taking about anything and everything.

Only a few minutes later, Lily manages to track down James and he sighs. So much for having some time to himself.

“There you are!” she calls as she gets closer. “Do you wanna go back inside?”

“I don’t wanna go to the stupid party.” James sighs sadly. “I want her back. I want her to want me back.”

“Who?” Lily asks, taking a seat beside him on the bench. “Y/N?”

“It’s not fair. I saw her first! Y/N had always been my little secret. She was this incredible thing I’d known about but everyone else seemed to miss. The treasure hidden in plain sight. The fortune of a lifetime that was somehow only visible to me.” James rambles, all the alcohol in his system making him miss you more than usual. “I saw her before everyone realized her worth. I loved her when nobody noticed her. And now everybody does! And she can have anyone and for a while that was me and it’s just- it’s not fair! It wasn’t nearly enough time.”

James hiccups, the firewhisky finally getting to him and Lily realizes in that moment that it’s you. Maybe at one point James did want her. Maybe he never wanted her at all, and he asked her out because he saw much it annoyed her. But one thing’s for certain, the only person he wants now is you. And sure, the attention James gave to Lily in sixth year was nice…at times. But she’d never forgive herself for being the thing that keeps you two apart. That being said, she bumps shoulders with James and gives him a comforting smile.

“You guys will be okay.”

“You really think so?” James asks with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah,” Lily nods. “You and Y/N have a love like you see on the big screen. And I’ve seen enough romantic comedies to know you’ll end up together.”

“Thanks, Lily.” James smiles.

“So what’s inside?” she asks, gesturing to the locket in his hand.

“Wanna see?” James asks, opening up the locket and handing it to her.

“Aw!” Lily laughs, looking at the picture of you and James. Lily watches as you look up at James with a smile and look away, only for James to immediately do the same thing. “It’s cute.”

“It was our first date,” James says proudly. “Our first official date.”

“And how was it?” Lily asks, handing the locket back to him.

“It was…the best day ever.” James sighs, closing the locket and putting it back on.

“Prongs!” Remus calls, “Are you out here?”

“Alright, let’s get you back to your friends.” Lily sighs, standing up. “I don’t know how to deal with you when you’re like this.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Y/N.”

You look up with a smile, only to frown when you see who called you.

“What do you want Michael?” you ask, hastily shoving your things back into your bag.

“You know what I want.” he says simply, causing you to scoff. “Are you going to make me ask again?”

“You didn’t even ask me the first time.” You remind him, standing from your seat. “You ordered me.”

“Same thing.”

“It really isn’t.” you shake your head. “But my answer hasn’t changed. I won’t marry you.”

“Y/N, I am a pure blood, high status wizard. I’m expected to marry a pure blood witch with a high status in the wizarding world.”

“By all means, marry one! I’m not the only pure blood girl.” you scoff. “There are others.”

“None as beautiful as you. A Gray such as myself deserves the best. And you, my dear, are the best.”

“Well I deserve to marry someone I love, and that isn’t you.”

“And who is?” Michael asks with a laugh. “Potter?”

You glare at him as he continues to laugh.

“Princess, he left you. If he doesn’t even want to be in a relationship with you, what makes you think he’d marry you?”

“Michael, stop it. You’re being mean.”

“I’m being honest.” he says, slowly walking towards you, backing you up against the wall. “There’s a war coming, Y/N. Marry me and I can protect you. Don’t you want to be on the right side?”

Before you know what you’re doing, you’ve slapped Michael. Head still turned to the side, he huffs in amusement before turning his steely gaze back to you.

“I’m not afraid of the Dark Lord.” you tell him with a defiant shake of your head. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

“You really should be.” Michael says, putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you up against the wall. You let out a surprised gasp, trying to shove him off to no avail.

“I did warn you that I would run out of patience.”

“Get off of me.” you demand weakly, giving his chest a shove, though it makes no difference.

“You’re in no place to give commands, princess.” Michael chuckles darkly.

Michael takes a step closer, invading your personal space, and that’s when you start to panic. You don’t know if he’s going to try to kiss you or hit you, and you don’t know which thought scares you more.

You’ve always prided yourself in being a brilliant witch. There are several defensive spells you’re able to perform with and without your wand. Unfortunately for you, you can’t remember a single one. At this moment, you’re just a scared, defenseless girl. And what do scared girls do? Run.

You stomp on Michael’s foot as hard as you can, and when he takes a step back, you push him away from you, grabbing your bag off the desk and running out of the room. Reaching the end of the hallway, you turn a corner, only to bump into a hard chest. Stumbling back, you look up and see James standing in front of you. James frowns in concern when he sees that you’re holding back tears.

“Are you okay?” he immediately asks.

Putting your head down, you try to walk past him but James grabs your wrist, keeping you in place.

“What happened?” he tries again.

“Nothing.” you shake your head, still avoiding his gaze. “I’m fine.”

“Obviously you’re not.” James argues. “Did someone say something to you?”

You silently shake your head, still trying to pull your wrist free from his grasp.

“Did someone do something to you?” James asks.

Immediately you freeze, looking up at James with wide eyes. Behind him, Remus, Peter, and Sirius all share a concerned look.

“What happened?” James asks again.

You open your mouth but no words come out, unable to tell James what happened. You feel embarrassed and ashamed that you weren’t able to fight Michael off. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you feel selfish for wanting James’ help even when you know that you no longer have that right.

“Nothing happened!” you yell, pulling your wrist from his grasp and running away. James watches you go with a worried frown.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Having just left study hall, James is headed back to the common room when he happens to overhear two Slytherins talking.

“Have you heard? Apparently Gray has gone and asked Y/N to marry him once school is done.”

James stops in his tracks. Marriage? But you’re so young. And you’re not even dating Michael!

“Did she accept?”

“Well, he didn’t really leave much room for argument.”

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing too bad. Just scared her a bit, I think.”

James seethes as he hears this. That’s probably why you were fighting back tears when you bumped into him in the corridor the other day. James spots Michael in the distance and immediately starts walking over there. As soon as James reaches him, he shoves him harshly.

“Stay the fuck away from Y/N.” he orders.

“Why should I?” Michael asks, fixing his jacket.

“Because I fucking said so.”

Michael huffs in amusement.

“I mean it.” James tells him. “Don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even fucking think about her.”

“She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Potter.” Michael reminds him. “You have no claim over her.”

“That has nothing to do with it.” James shakes his head. “You’re a right prick and I won’t let you hurt her. So I’m telling you, for the last time, to stay away.”

“I don’t know.” Michael sighs. “I think she liked it when I was rough with her.”

James glares at him.

“Maybe that’s why she dumped you.” Michael continues. “Maybe she likes being pushed around.”

James sees red. Before he knows it, he’s pulled his fist back and clocked Michael right in the face. Michael winces as he touches his nose, glowering when sees blood on his hand.

“You’re dead, Potter.” he growls before swinging at him.

Michael and James continue to land blow after blow on each other before eventually Professor Gasly comes along and pulls them apart.

“What is going on?” He yells, looking between Michael and James for some sort of explanation.

“James threw the first punch!” a Slytherin shouts.

“But Michael started it!” A Gryffindor interjects. “He practically assaulted Y/N and then bragged about it!”

Michael tries to defend himself but is immediately shot down by Professor Gasly.

“Shut it. Not a word from you until you’re sitting in front of Dumbledore.”

Professor Gasly looks at James and rolls his eyes.

“Go clean yourself up.”

“Yes professor.” James says, turning around and walking away.

Having been tucked away in the courtyard enjoying the weather, you saw the whole confrontation with Michael. You watch James head into the castle and weigh your options before eventually following after him.

James knows he should probably go to the bathroom, or to his dorm, or even to Madam Pomfrey. But more than anything, he just wants to be alone. That being said, he walks into the first empty classroom he sees and takes a seat on the chair, groaning as he does. He sighs in annoyance when he hears a knock on the door.

James looks up and is surprised, as well as the tiniest bit relieved when he sees you standing there. You sheepishly hold up the damp washcloth in your hand.

“Can I help?”

Unable to form any words, James nods his head with a smile, only to wince when the cut on his lip starts bleeding again. You come to a stop right in front of James, and begin gently wiping his face with the washcloth, stopping every time he winces.

“I’m so sorry.” you whisper.

“Don’t be.” James says softly with a shake of his head.

“This is all my fault.”

“It’s not.”

“You got hurt because of me.”

“I got hurt because I started a fight with Michael.”

“Because of me.”

“Because he’s an absolute tosser.” James insists. The last thing he wants is for you to feel guilty. “It was only a matter of time before someone put him in his place.”

You sigh before eventually nodding your head, giving him a small smile. James takes in your features, desperately trying to memorize them. It’s been so long since he’s seen you up close. Heaven only knows when he’ll get another opportunity. His eyes zero in on your lips before he clears his throat, looking away.

“You can go.” he tells you, standing up and taking a few steps away to put some distance between the two of you. “I can take it from here.”

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Honestly? No.” James laughs with a shake of his head, back still turned to you. “And you should know that.”

“Pardon?”

“You have no right.”

“To what?”

“To make me love you!” James shouts, turning back around to face you. “To hold my hand and kiss me breathless and cheer for me at all my matches and look at me with those mesmerizing fucking eyes of yours and then just walk away like nothing happened!”

You look up at James with wide eyes, his outburst having caught you off guard.

“I was supposed to be over you!” he continues to yell. “I told myself it’d never work between us! I-I convinced myself it’d never happen! I moved on! And then you come along with your bouncy hair and radiant smile. And you listen to me, and you support me, and you’re the only person who really gets me and it’s not fucking fair!” James shouts before sighing. “None of this is fair. Knowing what it’s like to be loved by you and then losing you isn’t fair.”

“You…love me?” you ask, confusion clear in your voice.

“Yes!” James confesses. “More than anything.”

“But Lily…”

“Just a sad, pathetic attempt to get over you.” James tells you with a defeated shake of his head. “Nothing more.”

“But I heard you.” you continue. “With your friends. You were talking about not giving me the wrong idea and-”

“Darling, no.” James crosses the room in an instant, grabbing your hands as he stares into your eyes. “You misunderstand. We were talking about telling you how I felt about you, how I still feel about you. But I know this was supposed to be fake. I didn’t want you to hate me for ruining everything.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you assure him. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry.”

“You have no reason to apologize.” James tells you. “I would’ve thought the same thing… What were you doing out there anyway?”

“Hm?” you ask with wide eyes before looking away. “Oh! Um, I was actually coming to talk to you.”

“Oh? About what?” James tilts his head to the side as he watches you curiously.

“I was actually coming to tell you that I thought…I was falling in love with you.”

James’ eyes widened at that. He didn’t know what you were going to say, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting that. He had dreamt about you falling in love with him more times than he’d like to admit. He hoped and prayed and wished on every shooting star he ever saw; but to actually hear you say that you love him was something else entirely.

“R-really?” James asks breathlessly.

“Yeah,” you nod, still nervously avoiding eye contact. “But I’m not anymore.”

“Sorry?” James asks, confused.

“Falling in love.”

The look James gives you is one of utter devastation, so you’re quick to clarify.

“I’m far past that now, I’m afraid. I’m completely in love with you, James.” you admit, giving him a nervous smile.

“Don’t say that. Not if you don’t mean it.” James begs. “Please, darling. I will never recover.”

“It’s true,” you tell him. “I love you.”

James crashes his lips onto yours, one hand cupping your jaw, while the other gets buried in your hair and you wrap your arms around his shoulders as you kiss him back. When James finally finds the strength to pull away, you’re absolutely breathless. He is too, chest heaving as he gazes into your eyes, hands still cupping your face.

“I love you too. Godric, do I love you. I can’t believe I tried to fight it for so long. It’s you Y/N. You’re the one for me. It’s always been you. It will always be you.”

“It was never you for me.” you admit, causing James to let out a surprised laugh.

“Sorry?” he asks.

“I never in a million years thought I would ever be friends with you, let alone like you.” you continue.

“Wow,” James laughs. “You really know how to make a guy feel special.”

“But falling in love with you was the easiest thing in the world. And I only regret not falling for you sooner.”

James gives you a soft smile, eyes full of love as he gazes at you.

“Sorry I took so long.” you apologize with a sheepish smile.

James is momentarily brought back to third year, when he was sitting in Charms and everyone was laughing at him; when he looked to his left and saw you, really saw you for the first time…when everything changed.

“Don’t be.” he shakes his head. “I would’ve waited forever for you.”

“Would you really?”

“I waited this long.” James says, causing you to roll your eyes in amusement. Oh, how he’s missed this.

“Go out with me.” James asks. “For real this time. No ulterior motives, no lies, no misunderstandings. I want to be able to love you honestly, openly… I want to love you wholeheartedly.”

“I do, too.” you tell him with a nod.

“It’s a bit too soon for ‘I do’s’ don’t you think, love?” James teases.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you tell him with a shake of your head, trying to free yourself from his grasp. “Let’s break up.”

“Yeah right!” James says, tightening his hold on you. “I’ve already lost you once. I’ll be damned if I lose you again.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Look at them,” Sirius groans. “Absolutely disgusting.”

Remus looks up from his book, seeing you and James having your own conversation, whispering to each other as you smile and laugh amongst yourselves.

“Leave them alone, Padfoot,” Remus sighs.

“I just don’t understand why they have to be so touchy, feely, kissy all the bloody time!” Sirius continues to complain.

“Of course you wouldn’t understand.” Remus says, turning the page of his book. “You’ve never been in love.”

“Hey!” Sirius exclaims, throwing an exploding bonbon at him. It hits Remus on the side of the head then falls to the ground where Peter picks it up and unwraps it, plopping it into his mouth with a happy grin.

“You should be happy for them.”

“As if!”

“Okay, happy for him.” Remus tries again. “He went from borderline stalking Y/N, to dating her.”

“Oi!” James calls, looking up in offense.

“I never stalked her!” he shouts before turning to look at you. “I never stalked you, love. Honest.”

“Right,” Remus scoffs. “You just stared at her all the time, and hexed any guy that talked to her, and snuck sweets into her bag when she wasn’t looking.”

“Wait…the sweets in my bag, that was you?” you ask, looking between James and Remus. James nods his head with a shy smile while Sirius laughs.

“Godric, I didn’t know it was that bad! What else did he do, Moony?”

“NOTHING!” James shouts, face turning a brilliant shade of red.

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice.” Remus tells Sirius. “It was kind of obvious.”

Sirius blinks several times, before shifting the attention to you.

“Yeah, Y/N. I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“wha-me? I didn’t know!” you defend.

“You didn’t know?” Sirius repeats skeptically. “According to Moony, he stared at you all day everyday. You honestly didn’t notice James’ eyes glued to you?”

“I didn’t notice James at all!” you stress, causing the boys to laugh.

“Love,” James whines, burying his face into your neck in embarrassment.

“But it’s fine because now he’s all I can think about.”

“So it’s safe to say it all turned out okay in the end.” James says with a proud grin.

“You make it sound as if this was your plan all along.” Sirius huffs in amusement.

“How do you know it wasn’t?” James asks, crossing his arms.

“Your master plan was to admire her from afar for years and then ask her to pretend to be your girlfriend in your last year of school, hoping she’d develop real feelings for you?” Remus asks incredulously.

“It’s called playing the long game, Moony.” James says with a nod, causing you to laugh.

“You’re an idiot.” Remus mumbles, getting back to his book.

“Unbelievable.” James says with a shake of his head. “I’m not gonna sit here and listen to this. Darling, would you like to go on a walk?”

You nod your head with a smile, grabbing James’ hands so he can pull you up.

“You don’t really hate them being together, do you?” Remus asks Sirius.

“Nah, I just like teasing him.” Sirius says, nodding his head. “Look at them, Moons.”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all watch as James pulls a bouquet of flowers for you out of thin air. You grab a daisy from the arrangement and tuck it behind his ear and nod proudly at your work before you tilt your head up and pout your lips, silently asking for a kiss, which James is more than happy to give you.

“What they have is real,” Sirius tells him. “How could anyone be annoyed by that?”

[livelaughlove0ntour]

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