#anyways the driver got to the wrong place and then after sending the coordinates from phone hr got it

[mira0000000-blog]

**puts ong GG rev ost** WHAT A HEAVY DAY

[justgillespie]

Missing (5/?)

Summary: Your next door neighbor, Luke Patterson (a.k.a. your longtime crush) has gone missing, and you think you could help finding him.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: none!

Part 6

•

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You said to Max once he approached to you.

The whole neighborhood and, other kids you assumed were Amy’s friends, were at her party. The place was packed with teenagers.

“Yeah, I’m regretting it.”

“This is a POOL party. You can’t regret coming to a pool party.”

“I just did.”

“Don’t be ridiculous- Hey Josh! Come on.” You grabbed Max’s arm and took him with you to were your neighbor was.

“Hey guys.” He smiled at you two. “It’s nice to see some familiar faces. I lost Victor somewhere around here.”

You chuckled.

“Max, I can’t believe you’re here.” Josh looked at your friend.

“Yeah, Y/N convinced me to.”

“Then I should thank you, dear Y/N. I’m glad that you were able to take Max out of his room. We barely see him anymore.” Josh hit Max in the arm, slightly. “We’re going to meet at Matt’s this week. Wanna come along?”

“I-.”

“He would love that.” You said to Josh, before Max could say no. He looked at you with wide eyes.

“Great! I’ll call you one of these days to coordinate better.” Josh smiled. “Oh, cool necklace, by the way.”

He pointed to the guitar pick hanging around your neck with a piece of thread. You thanked God he didn’t ask if it was yours. Maybe he just related it to Tamra, who did play the guitar.

“Thanks.” You said.

Victor found his way back to the three of you, and he came with a few other kids from the block, and after chatting for a little bit, you all agreed on finally getting into the pool.

You took your dress off, since you had your swimsuit under it, just like the other girls. You saved the dress on your bag, left on a chair near the pool, and then, you noticed how Max was just staring froze at some point of the pool.

You frowned and approached to him. “Hey, you okay?”

You tried to locate what was he looking at, but you couldn’t, so you spoke again. “What? What is it?”

“Max, come on!” Aria called him from the pool.

You then noticed: he was looking at her.

“Coming!” He said, laughing nervously.

“You like Aria?!”

“Shh! Shut up!”

“You like her.” You said lower this time and smiling. “I didn’t know you liked girls.”

“Honesty is something I really appreciate, but there are times where you should just stay quiet, you know?.” Max said, clearly frustrated.

You giggled. “Sorry. I’m just so excited! But, wait, do you guys even talk? Well, I suppose you do, otherwise she wouldn’t have called you.���

“Well, she laughs at my jokes. And I laugh at hers, when we’re talking in a group but... we’ve never shared a conversation just the two of us.”

“That could change today! Go, talk to her!”

“What part of “I’m not exactly sociable” did you not understand?”

“Max, you two grew up together. There’s nothing you should be afraid of. What could go wrong? Go!”

“Oh my gosh! You’re so annoying. I shouldn’t have told you anything... wait, I actually didn’t!”

You laughed. “You could never hide anything from me. Now go!”

With an indecisive look, he carefully got into the pool and approached to Aria.

You clapped, excited, and then got in too. Amy also joined you a while later. Some played and other decided to just relax. It was when you were playing Marco-Polo when you noticed him and your heart skipped a beat.

It was Reggie.

You couldn’t tell for sure, but judging by the picture you’ve analyzed for a long time the night before, it was him. And Bobby was next to him.

“Marco!” You heard Liz say, and you got out of the pool, as fast and carefully as you could.

“Polo!”

“Y/N! Where are you going?” Josh asked you.

“I’ll be back. Just keep playing.” You said, and you looked for Max among all the people in the pool.

You then found him, but he was sitting on the grass, with Aria. They were talking and he seemed so comfortable and himself, that you didn’t have the heart to interrupt.

You put a towel on you, put on your flip flops, and then headed to where you could see the guys were standing and talking to each other.

“Excuse me... Excuse me.” You pushed slightly to the crowd until you got close to where Reggie and Bobby were.

And you froze. It had to be them, but why?

Wasn’t Alex the one who kind of knew Amy?

You didn’t have anything planned and you weren’t even sure if those were Luke’s bandmates.

What should you do?

Impulsively, you walked to them.

“Hey.” You said, ignoring the adrenaline you were feeling along with your racing heart.

“Hey! Are you Amy?” The guy you recognized as Reggie said.

Before you could say anything else, Bobby spoke.

“Alex wasn’t able to come, and we thought that maybe we could come in his place?”

“Except that Alex was just one guy, and you can see two here.”

“Shut up.” Bobby hissed at Reggie and he rose his hands up.

“Um, can I know your names?” You played along.

“I’m Bobby, and this is Reggie.”

Think of something, come on, you thought. You didn’t know how could you take information out of them. But before you could ask them something else, Reggie seemed to notice something on you.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He said, tilting his head. “I think I’ve seen you before.”

You frowned. You’ve obviously seen him before, and not even in person, but where could he possibly have seen you?

Right when you were about to respond, Bobby seemed to notice something on you, too.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, pointing at the guitar pick.

You tried to act natural, despite the fact that you’re heart started racing faster than before.

“My sister plays the guitar-.”

“No, that’s- That’s Luke’s.” Bobby said to Reggie in a lower voice, who seemed to be confused at the situation. “We need to go.”

“Wait! You know Luke? You know where he is?” You desperately asked, not too loud so people couldn’t hear you.

“Sorry. We have to go.” Reggie said, and he really seemed to be sorry.

“I told you coming here was a bad idea.”

“No you didn’t!”

“No, wait, please!” You followed them outside Amy’s house. “I just-! Is he okay? Where is he?”

“Sorry, um, Amy? We can’t tell you anything and we’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything about this to anyone either.” Bobby said, opening the door to the driver’s side.

“So you’re admitting you know where Luke is?” You asked.

“I didn’t admit anything. Come on Reggie.”

The so-called seemed extremely nervous, and just obeyed, getting into the car.

You rapidly came up with something.

“How do you know I’ll keep quiet? How do you know I won’t go to the police, who’s looking for Luke now?”

You weren’t actually sure of that, but the words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. Even if it was true, you didn’t have enough information to do so.

But they didn’t look like they thought too much about what you said. Bobby froze right when he was about to get in the car and Reggie rolled his window down.

“I don’t wanna go to jail! Please don’t call the police, we-!”

“Reggie!” Bobby stopped him. “Just-. Luke is fine. He just needs some time, okay?”

“Can I go with you?” You dared to ask.

“No that’s... not an option.” Bobby shook his head.

“Maybe we could send him a message from you.” Reggie suggested, but Bobby looked like he didn’t like the idea. And before he could say anything, you rushed to talk.

“Please tell him that his family is fine. His mom misses him. Everyone here does. And just... please tell him I hope... that if he ever decides to come back... I hope we can get to meet each other better.”

“Aw...” Reggie pouted. “You’re gonna make me cry!”

“We’ll tell him.” Bobby nodded and rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Bye! It was nice meeting you! I still think you look familiar!” Reggie said when Bobby was already driving away.

You waved at him, with a sad smile. Reggie was really nice.

You sat on the sidewalk and hugged your knees. You really thought for a moment that you would see Luke. That you would bring him back home, safe. At least he would get a message from you. Maybe, somehow, you could get a reply.

And that’s when you realized: Reggie and Bobby thought you were Amy. They would tell Luke that Amy sent him the message.

“Come on!” You said out loud.

Why was this so hard?

Every time you thought you got to something, you would then realize you forgot something else, or your ideas weren’t good, or your plans would just not work out...

You found yourself crying out of frustration.

Luke did ran away for a reason. Was he even planning on coming back? He didn’t want to be found, that was obvious. Max said it before.

Why were you even still doing this then?

And what if you find him? What would you do anyways? You didn’t have that planned.

Rule number four, somewhere deep in your mind echoed.

But if Luke doesn’t want to come back, then the rule didn’t have any value. So what was the point?

Then, you remembered Mrs. Patterson’s tired face. The way she expressed her repentance...

You went back in, as fast as you could, to head into a bathroom. And only decided to come out once you didn’t look like a mess anymore.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Max said when you were getting out of the bathroom.

“Well, I’m her now.”

Should you tell him? Should you tell Max what just happened? What if he got mad? You didn’t exactly know what should he get mad about, but still. You didn’t want to ruin what it seemed to be one of the best days of his life in a long time.

Okay, maybe you were exaggerating.

“But is everything okay? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Max, don’t worry. I’m okay. Where’s Aria?”

“She’s in the pool. I told her to wait for me for a second... that was twenty minutes ago.”

“That isn’t a second.” You teased and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m gonna ignore you said that. Come on, let’s go back with the rest. They were saying something about a movie before I left.”

“Actually I think I’m gonna go home? I’m kind of tired.”

Max frowned. “You? You’re never tired.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But it’s super early! How long have you been here? Like, what, one hour and a half?” He noticed you were about to make another excuse so he rapidly spoke again. “You made me come here. You said you were dragging me with you everywhere. If you’re going home, I’m going too.”

“We both know that’s not exactly what I meant. And you don’t wanna leave yet. I do.”

“When did the roles change, huh?” Max teased. “Come on, Y/N. Just stay for a bit more. We live a block away. We’ll be back home super fast after the movie’s over. And you said that if there weren’t any news about Luke, than the party could still be good to distract ourselves.”

You saw how excited and happy he was, which helped you make your final decision: you were definitely not telling him about the incident right now.

You stared at him for a second and then sighed.

Maybe he was right. If you did go to your house, you would only keep thinking and that would make you feel worse. You indeed needed some distraction.

“Okay, let’s go.” You walked past him and he followed you with a big smile.

It wasn’t until most of the people left, that you all seated in front of the tv and watched a movie. You sat next to Amy, who linked your arms together and wouldn’t shut up for a minute. She had something to say for every single scene. But you weren’t listening. Or even paying attention to the movie.

You looked down, discretely. Aria and Max were seated together on the floor, and you noticed how their hands were placed just centimeters away from touching.

You smiled and looked back to the tv. That was their moment. Not something you should be seeing.

Amy’s voice whispering to you something about how the girl’s shorts were awful started to fade in the background, and you slowly let your eyes shut.

“So did you like the movie?”

You rolled your eyes but giggled. “Shut up.”

Josh was the one who woke you up after the movie ended. It was six, or maybe seven forty when he did so, and he told you Max already left with Aria and that he was taking her home.

You couldn’t help to feel disappointed. You were hoping you could get some time alone with Max just so you could tell him what happened before with Bobby and Reggie. Josh said he would take you home, and you accepted his company. His house was just a few houses away from yours, after all.

You shifted your bag from one shoulder to another, since it felt kind of heavy, and Josh noticed.

“Hey, let me take that for you.”

“It’s really not- Okay.”

He took the bag out of your shoulder before you could even protest.

“Thank you.” You added.

“Today was pretty fun.” He said after a pause. “It’s been like a month since the last time we all hung out together.”

“I know. School’s been pretty heavy for everyone. We are entering finals season.”

“Yeah. At least it’s getting over. At least for some months.”

“Yeah...”

“It’s crazy what happened with Luke, right?”

You nodded. “It is.”

“Do you think he is okay?”

“Yes.” You said convinced, and you knew it was true. You confirmed it that afternoon. But you didn’t say that to Josh. You just repeated Mrs. Patterson’s words. “He’s smart. He’s probably somewhere safe. Like a friend’s house.”

“I guess. Did you ever talk to him?”

“Not really. You?”

“Kind of. We grew up together but once we got to high school he wouldn’t hang out with us anymore... I think ever since he started his band, actually.”

“Well, a band takes a lot of responsibility.” You said, without actually knowing that for sure.

“Yeah.” For a moment, he seemed to be debating something with himself, until he finally spoke, when you were already arriving at your house.

“I thought you guys were dating.”

“What?”

“You and Max. I saw you hanging out together a lot lately.”

“Oh.” You shook your head. “No, no. We’re just friends.”

You stopped and faced him on your sidewalk.

“Yeah I noticed today... Him and Aria seem to have something going on.”

“Yeah. I’m really happy for them.” You smiled, sincerely.

“I actually, um... felt kind of relieved? When I realized that you two aren’t dating and now you confirmed it, so... yeah. I’m really glad...” He rambled, and you just stared at him.

“Why?” You asked, and you wished he didn’t ask. And that he didn’t say it.

But he did.

“Because, I’ve been meaning... for a while, to ask you something. Would you, um... like to go out, some time?”

You got ready to give your usual response. I like someone else. But you stopped yourself.

How many times since you moved, since you noticed Luke, did you reject guys asking you out?

Always with the stupid hope that Luke would one day wake up and think that you were the one. That you were the one for him.

But he never did. And now, he had other plans. He was somewhere else, maybe far away from you, and he didn’t want to come back.

And you were tired. Tired of that fantasy. A fantasy that only you were living, that only you created in your head.

If you were mad at someone, it was yourself. For never trying. For never taking any of the opportunities you had to talk to him.

And this was a clearly a new opportunity. An opportunity to move on.

“I would... like that. Yeah.” You nodded, giving him a little smile.

•

Taglist: @ifilwtmfc @sovereignparker @catbcyluke @marvelgirl300 @charlieschickens @kegkingbillyhargrove @imamysticalwitch @viamiasoncrack @sunnyrye

*The ones crossed out are the ones I wasn’t able to tag! (Sorry!)

[writingpaperghost]

There is a Me Who Can Become Strong (Chapter 1)

Emu liked working at Seito University Hospital, intern or not. Sure, his coworkers at the CR were a bit… interesting, but not in the bad way. Saki was, overall, pretty nice, even if she could sometimes get really stern. The director was a bit silly, but still took his job seriously. Technically, Nico didn’t work with the CR, and she was often a bit much. Same with Taiga, who was really set on getting the Gashats, for some reason. Kiriya had a bit of a skill for getting into Emu’s personal space, but it wasn’t too bad.

Everything seemed to have been going well, but with the sudden increase of Game Disease cases, it becomes clear something is happening. Unfortunately for Emu, the past doesn’t stay in the past.

My newest project, that struck me like a lightning bolt and made me go, "Huh, that's actually a great idea". Now, you may be asking, "Are you really going to rewrite all of Ex-Aid"? The answer is: Yeah, probably.

It gets angsty, unsurprisingly.

Chapter 1: I'm a Kamen Rider!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32857183/chapters/81535450

Emu liked working at Seito University Hospital. He liked the people – the nurses were kind and liked him – he liked seeing the children smile when he’d send them back to their parents (unbidden, he’s often reminded of the words that changed Emu’s life). During his breaks, he’d help entertain the children, by playing games for them. He was really good at video games (in the past, Emu Hojo was Genius Gamer M. It’s been a while since he’d been, but now he was something just as important, Doctor Emu, even if he was still just an intern). The pediatrics ward had become like a second home to him.

---

Two figures stand on a rooftop, looking out at the city.

One had messy light brown hair, which held the appearance that there had, at some point, been an attempt to comb it. His attire was probably the most interesting part about him. He wore a reddish brown jacket, the shirt underneath having one sleeve of a similar color, the right sleeve a green color, and the rest being greyish green in color. He had a necklace of fangs around his neck.

Beside him, stands the other man, wearing a hoodie, clearly inspired by Mighty, the mascot of the up and coming game from Gemn Corporation, Mighty Action X. It was pink, like Mighty, and as he had the hood up, one could see the spikes of hair, just like Mighty’s. Beneath, he wore a Mighty Action X shirt, which had Mighty and his hammer printed on it. Notably, he wore bright pants, cyan with orange stripes, his whole outfit being leagues brighter than his companion’s. His face is obscured by his long bangs and the hood of the coat, but one can make out the faint glow of red from where his left eye, the one unhidden by his bangs, is.

“I can’t believe they finally let you out,” The first of the two said, sounding terribly unamused regardless.

The one in the Mighty hoodie responded in a slightly joyful tone, though subdued, “He said that they thought I had enough control that I could stay calm.”

The first scoffs, “Sure,” He said, “Well, it sounds like today will be big, anyway.”

“Big?” The second asks, “I wonder what they have planned?”

“I guess we’ll find out,”

---

Unfortunately, Emu was a bit clumsy – he tried his best but it was just so easy to catch your foot on even the smallest of things! This clumsiness usually only affected him but sometimes… Well sometimes, he ended up with a towel thrown in his face thanks to his patient. He’s not sure why, but Sota had thrown it and used it as a distraction to run away. Emu, to his credit, got the towel off his face and gave it to the nurse, rushing off after him.

He follows Sota out of the hospital and through the nearby parts of the city. Unfortunately, either his luck or his coordination ran out, and his foot finds a cart, for moving big boxes. Then he goes on an un-asked for rollercoaster ride down the hill, where he can see but a single person at the end. He found himself instead wondering who’s Rollercoaster Tycoon ride he’d wandered into – no, no, focus! The woman!

He crashes into the suited woman, sending her briefcase flying into the street. Scrambling up, Emu frantically apologizes, “Sorry! I tripped! Sort of!”

The woman sighed, “Pay better attention,” She scolded, then stood, going to pick up the contents of the briefcase, which had been opened by its fall. Emu stands and looks around, ignoring the strange device in the briefcase in favor of looking for Sota. He had to be somewhere…

He sees Sota, standing with something in his hands. It’s pink, shaped a bit like some kind of cartridge. He thinks, in the back of his mind, that it looks familiar, but he doesn’t focus on it much. He runs over, “Sota!”

Sota turns to look at him, and Emu realizes he’s caught the attention of the woman too. “I want to play it,” Sota said, looking between the two of them and the cartridge. Emu squints, able to make out the logo on the cartridge. Mighty Action X, Gemn Corporation’s new game, which was to be released today. Emu had been looking forward to it, planning to pick up a copy after he was done at the hospital today. But why did this woman have this strange cartridge with her.

The woman’s lips settle into a stern expression, “I’m sorry, but you can’t play that.” Reluctantly, Sota allows her to take the cartridge away, but there’s something in his eyes that hurts Emu. He knows it’s not really the woman’s fault, but for some reason, Sota must really want to play Mighty Action X.

Yet, only a few moments after the woman took the cartridge, Sota collapses, some kind of orange bubbles briefly appearing in his neck. Something about it bugs Emu greatly, like a nagging sensation in some part of him. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t just that Sota had collapsed.

The woman’s reaction was telling enough, whatever this was, she knew. Together, he helps her take Sota back to Seito, down into some underground rooms, which Emu didn’t even think existed. He wants to follow the woman with Sota through the room, but he’s stopped by a man he quickly recognized as the hospital director. “Please just leave and forget about this,” the director had said. He hadn’t seen the man much, but even Emu knew what he looked like. It made sense that the director knew about whatever this place was, but somehow actually seeing him was startling. Then, the director entered the room, leaving Emu standing outside of it.

Something in him wasn’t letting him leave, though. He can’t help but recall the expression on Sota’s face when he held the cartridge, excitement, and then how it fell when the woman, he knew her now as Nurse Asuna, took the cartridge. Recalling the words he’d chosen to live by, Emu had made up his mind. He’d go and he’d help Sota, even if it was just something small. He may not be able to cure whatever disease he had, but he could make him smile. (A part of him was still trying to knock the nagging feeling.)

Luckily, neither the director nor Asuna must have been used to having other people in this area, as they hadn’t locked the door. That meant Emu could easily slip into the rooms that belonged to the part of the hospital known as the Cyber Rescue Center.

---

The director is sitting at the table in the upper room of the CR when he informs Asuna, “Saki will be here tomorrow,” He says, “She’s a perfect fit, I know Director Hinata agreed it would be good to find this Genius Gamer M, but would bringing someone who might not even be familiar with Game Disease truly a good idea?”

Asuna huffs, “Of course, Game Disease is connected to games,” She looks at him, “Who else would be suited to fight it than a genius gamer?”

“But how are you going to find him?”

“I bet I’ll find him at the Mighty Action X launch party, it’s no secret that he’s a fan of Gemn’s games.” Asuna informs him, picking up the briefcase with the Gamer Driver and Mighty Action X Gashat. “I’m going to go find him.”

With that, Asuna leaves the CR, determined to find someone who had barely appeared in the gaming world for six years.

---

It wasn’t hard for Emu to find the patient room, it was right across from the entrance. “Sota?” He called, seeing the small form in the patient’s bed. “It’s me, Emu, you doctor from earlier.”

“What do you want?” The boy asked in a sour tone.

Emu walks over and pulls a chair up to the bed, sitting down at Sota’s side. “Why did you run away earlier?”

“It’s none of your business,” Despite his protest, Emu can’t help but wonder…

“Do you like video games?” Emu asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Yeah,” Sota responded weakly, pulling out a Mighty keychain. “I was really excited for Mighty Action X…”

“The launch party is today,” Emu notes, “Did you want to go? Is that why you ran off.” Sota doesn’t verbally answer but nods regardless. It’s then that Emu had his idea, as crazy and questionable as it was.

Emu wastes no time in telling Sota his plan, “How about we go? You can play Mighty Action X,” He said, “After all, it doesn’t matter if you’ve been cured or not if you don’t smile.”

Sota lit up at the idea and Emu put his plan into motion. No one seemed to notice that he and Sota left, something that bugged him, but he was thankful for. They make their way to the launch party. There were a lot of people, which perhaps a few years ago would have made him greatly uncomfortable, but now didn’t bother him at all. Sota seemed so excited as they waited in line so he could play Mighty Action X (there was a pang of jealousy, but he could wait until later today, like he initially planned. In the past, maybe Emu would have cleared his schedule to go to a launch party for a Gemn Corp. game. He’d done it before, but now he just couldn’t. He was busy now, he had more than just game).

All was going well until…

“You!” It was Nurse Asuna. Emu feared her wrath for bringing Sota here ever so slightly, but he was certain that this was the solution. “And Sota! Why did you bring him here? How?”

“It was the stress from missing the game’s release,” Emu quickly explained, “I think that’s why he suddenly got sick. When you’re stressed, it’s harder for your immune system to fight off sickness. Bringing him here should cure his sickness and make him smile.”

Asuna did not look pleased with that explanation, “His sickness isn’t so simple,” She reaches and grabs Sota’s hand, “Come on Sota, we’re heading back to the hospital.”

That strange feeling returned as Sota yelled, “No! It’s almost my turn!”

“Please,” Emu begged, “Just a little longer than he can go back,” He didn’t want a scene to be made, nor did he want Sota to get so stressed. The strange feeling was growing.

“We need to go now,” Asuna continued to tug at Sota. At least, until Sota started glitching and those strange orange bubbles from before to appear again and began to grow. Soon they took the form of some kind of monster. Now, the strange feeling was stronger than ever.

Emu’s not sure what to say, at first, before he finds himself saying, “What’s that?”

Asuna answers, “A Bugster,” she says, “A manifestation of his Game Disease, which is a computer virus that can effect humans.” There’s a lot there in that simple statement, but Emu chooses to just file it away for further scrutiny later.

“What can we do to help him?” He was still Sota’s doctor, he still needed to see Sota smile.

Hesitantly, Asuna opens the briefcase, revealing the device and cartridge once more, responding, “These could fight the Bugster and save him,” She says, watching as Emu raises his hand and comes close to the device, “But only if you can use them.”

Looking at the strange device and cartridge, Emu supposed there was only one way to find out. He takes them, placing the device - a belt of some kind - around his waist and clicked the button on the cartridge. He places it in the slot on the belt and -

Error

He pulls it out, clicks again and puts it back in.

Error

Damn.

His mind flashed to Sota. Device or no, he’d that boy one way or another. He’d see Sota smile.

He takes the belt off, pulling the cartridge out and hands them to Asuna, though the cartridge doesn’t end up leaving his hand.

With his free hand, he lunges forward, reaching towards the monster and grasps. “I’ll change Sota’s fate with my own hands!” He means every word. If no one can help Sota, then Emu will. As he grabs at the monster, his hand and the part of the monster he’d grabbed were glitching. Then, the monster changed. Now it looked like… Salty? From Mighty Action X?

His hand tightens around the cartridge and he accidentally pressed the button once more.

Mighty Action X!

Let’s game! Metcha game! Mucha game! What’s your name? I’m a Kamen Rider!

Around him, a wheel of portraits appears, like a player select screen. He can’t make out the features on most of them, but picked the one that lit up, in front of him.

Level up! Mighty jump! Mighty kick! Mighty-Mighty Action X!

Around Emu, red and blue armor forms, and in his hand appears some weird combination of a gun and an axe. He still held the cartridge in his other hand.

Behind him, Asuna gasps.

Placing the cartridge into the holding slot at his side, he runs towards Salty, slashing with his axe. Salty, seemingly startled still by his existence, further startled by Emu’s transformation, doesn’t have much time to try to dodge. He follows his slash up with a kick, knocking Salty back slightly. Once he’s knocked Salty back, a bunch of strange grunts dressed in chef uniforms appeared.

“Some low level grunts?” Emu wonders, “Well, that’s not too bad.”

He breaks one of the blocks that had spawned when he used the cartridge. A token appears, with the image of a person running quickly. Emu grabs it and feels the power rush through his body, able to run quicky and cut down the grunts. “And powerups too!”

Now it was just Emu and Salty, staring each other down. He quickly switches his weapon to gun mode, shooting at Salty, “The one who’ll cure Sota will be me, Genius Gamer M!” While Salty was stunned, he switched his weapon back to axe mode, breaking a block for a power up, grabbing it and realizing it was a strength enhancement.

He hits Salty a few more times, before jumping back and taking ahold of the cartridge, blowing on it, then placing it into the slot on his weapon.

Mighty Critical Strike!

Running at Salty, he slashes his axe and the power with it. Salty took the hit and was defeated.

Game Clear!

Pulling the cartridge out of his weapon, the armor around Emu remains for a moment, before it disappeared. He sees where Salty had been, now Sota laid on the ground. He runs over, not thinking much at the moment about what happened.

“Sota, are you alright?”

Sota looks up at him and seems happier than ever, “Yes,” He said, then he smiled at Emu, “Thank you, doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” Emu smiled back, “I’m glad you’re happy now,”

---

A teenaged girl is holding up her phone, looking at the screen, the camera zoomed in on the screen. She has long black hair, with a galaxy baseball cap on her head. Her jacket is red and her backpack pink, beneath she wears a shirt for a different Gemn Corp game, Bang Bang Shooting.

It seems she saw the fight between Emu and Salty and had saw what had happened at the launch party. She brings her camera down and frowns.

“That’s him, alright,”

---

A man with a red jacket, ripped capri jeans, and an ugly floral patterned shirt with sunglasses hooked on it wandered the area where the Mighty Action X launch party had been held. He looked around, interested.

“So,” He said, “The game’s begun.”

---

A woman with brown hair held back in a bun, wearing light blue blouse and black slacks sits in the back of a car. Beside her, sits a Gamer Driver. She frowns at her phone as it rings and rings.

Finally, she sighed, “He’s probably busy,” She nods to herself a quietly says, “I’ll just have to surprise him tomorrow.”

---

“This,” Asuna says, gesturing to the CR, “Is the CR. It’s a department dedicated to fighting Bugsters and Game Disease.”

She spins and in a flash of colors and music notes changes her clothes, her hair now a pink bob, and her clothing all yellow and green. “I’m Poppy Pipopapo,” She says, “But outside the CR you call me Asuna.”

“How?” Emu wondered, unable to help but think aloud.

“Oh, well I’m also a Bugster,” She said, “We Bugsters can change parts of our appearance, like hair and clothing.”

He nods in response, “I see…”

“Anyway,” Poppy says, “There are ten strains of Game Disease, corresponding to ten games. The one you fought today was of the Mighty Action X strain. To stop Game Disease, we need to clear all ten of them.”

Emu looks at the games displayed on the screen. He recognized all of them, but at least one hadn’t even been released. He hummed to himself, “Well, I think I’m pretty well suited for the job.”

Poppy nods in agreement, “You’re not just Genius Gamer M,” She cheered, “But also an intern here at the hospital!” Emu can’t help but laugh a little at her enthusiasm.

If there were two things that Emu thought he was good at, it was video games and making his patients smile. He’d clear those games with no continues, that was his new goal now. (Something in the back of his head wanted to analyze all the information he got today with a fine-tooth comb. There were definitely some answers in all of it. He just wished they pointed to something a little different.)

[hawkinshellfire]

Right Where You Left Me

Chapter 9 - You Are In Love

One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love

Saturday morning, Hopper wakes when the sun streaming in through his window forces his eyes open. He'd hardly slept an hour, tossing in turning for the majority of the night and he groans while burying his face beneath his pillow.

After attempting to fall back asleep for nearly an hour, he gives up and carries himself to the kitchen to fetch a cup of coffee. His parents are already enjoying breakfast at the table and wish him good morning while he pours coffee from the already brewed pot into a mug. His mother teases him about his bed head and jokes that he looks like he hasn't slept in weeks before he excuses himself to enjoy his drink in the privacy of his own bedroom.

He downs the coffee in four large gulps stretches his arms up over his head with a dramatic sigh and forces himself to put on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel. He knew what he had to do this morning, he just wasn't sure how it was going to go.

He decides to walk, procrastinating while also enjoying the crispness of the morning air. What if she wouldn't listen to him? She would. Something in him just told him that she would. But, what if she wasn't there?

Hopper crosses the street and marches through the field behind Joyce's house, where he spots her sitting on the platform of their childhood hangout spot. A semi-tree house located in one of the trees that had been struck by lightning in Joyce's backyard during a massive storm years prior.

She's too focused on the novel she's reading to notice him enter the yard and he watches her with a smile. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple white tee, she had her hair pinned back and her glasses on while her feet dangled from the low platform and her back rested against the splintered trunk of the semi-fallen tree.

He knew that after their argument outside the diner last night, he would find her here. This had always been a safe place for Joyce. When things got heated at home or whenever she needed time to herself, this is where she came. Part of him feels bad that today, he's the reason she's seeking a safe place but he came here to apologize and he has no intention of ever abandoning their friendship or making her doubt him ever again.

As kids, he and Joyce would spend hours playing in this tree. It wasn't anything fancy, just a few wood planks nailed to the trunk to create a floor and walls, but they loved it. As teens, they stopped spending as much time out here, instead opting to hang out near the lake or go driving around town, but Hopper knew that Joyce came out here without him and that what was once their imaginary pirate ship had become her sanctuary. Once, when he came to pick her up for a movie and found her drawing in the very spot she was now sitting in, he joked that it looked like she was royalty sitting in her castle, just waiting for him to come by and rescue her. She replied by making it clear that she wasn't the type of girl that needed rescuing, but the "Castle" comment stuck and Hopper had been referring to it as Castle Joyce ever since.

As he crosses the yard, he steps on and snaps a twig which forces her to withdraw her nose from her book and look up at him. She watches as he crosses the yard and easily swings himself onto the platform but doesn't say a word.

Plopping himself down next to her, Hopper playfully nudges her shoulder and smiles, "truce?"

"Truce."

They sit in a comfortable silence, side-by-side, staring out over the yard. He hadn't expected her to welcome him up so easily and isn't sure how to proceed with his apology.

"Look-" he begins, "I'm sor-"

"I'm sorry," she says at the same time.

"Wait, what on earth are you sorry for?" he asks. He turns his body towards her and watches as she closes her book and folds her hands in her lap.

"Last night. Just everything," she sighs. "I should be more understanding of you spending time with Chrissy. Maybe I can try and be nicer to her."

"I don't think that's going to be necessary," he replies.

She stares at him quizzically.

"Chrissy and I broke up," he explains.

"Oh Hop. I'm so sorry."

"Are you really though?" he teases. He's desperate to keep the conversation light and push through to his apology.

"No," she admits. "But I want you to be happy."

"I am happy," he reassures her, reaching out to clasp her hand in his. "It wasn't right between us. She didn't make me happy."

"Look," he adds, "I'm so sorry that I let my relationship with Chrissy come between us. It was stupid of me and I will never, ever, let something like that happen again. You're so important to me Joyce and I need you to know that I feel horrible about everything that's happened. I was a total ass and I'll completely understand if you can't forgive me."

"Hopper," she says softly but he continues rambling.

"Our friendship is the most important thing in the world to me and I would love it if we could go back to being best friends?" he asks.

"You're an idiot," she giggles.

"Is that an 'I forgive you even though you're an idiot' smile, or a 'get out of here, you're an idiot' smile?"

"The first one," she nods. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

He notices her shiver and wraps her arms around her torso and instinctively slips his flannel off and passes it to her. Wordlessly, she accepts and puts it on. She's swimming in it, the arms dangle on the other side of her wrists and the body encompasses her nearly to the knees. He's smitten. She looks adorable tiny in his shirt, sending a fleet of butterflies lose in his stomach. Doing his best to ignore the way seeing her in his shirt makes him feel, he stretches out and cracks his knuckles before folding his hands in his lap.

Wrapped in his shirt, Joyce breathes in and is instantly comforted. The shirt smells like him and while it keeps her physically warm, it brings back a sense of home that she hadn't felt in weeks. She felt safe with Hopper. He was the one person who remained still and calm as the world stormed around her and for a moment, she truly feared she'd lost him.

She'd done a lot of thinking last night. About her. Them. What she wanted. She'd decided long before Hopper entered the yard that she wanted to apologize to him. She knew she didn't need to, she'd done nothing outwardly wrong. But she cared for him and she hadn't exactly made it easy for him to date Chrissy.

As for what he said last night, she wasn't sure she believed he actually wanted her. Convinced that it was a conversation fuelled by lust and the desire to have what he couldn't have, she decides to let his words fall on deaf ears and pretend that the conversation never happened. Unless he brought it up, she was content to mend the bridges that bound their friendship and forget about the confessions and the daunting reality of what could-have-been.

Is she curious to know what a romantic relationship with Hopper would be like? Absolutely. But if the last few weeks taught her anything, it was that she needed him in her life and she wasn't willing to risk their friendship for something that wasn't a sure thing.

If he brought it up, she would discuss it with him. Tell him that despite the tingling feeling that skirted across her bare skin every time they touched, she thinks they're better off as friends, even if a large part of her knows they'd be better off as more. Lucky for her, he doesn't bring it up and she doesn't have to navigate the word mine and let him down easily without showing that it's her fear and insecurity causing her to have to do so.

For now, she was happy with this. Just them. Joyce and Hopper.

She slides closer to him and leans on his shoulder, drawing in a deep breath now that her world seemed whole again.

"Do you have plans today?" he asks.

"Not really," she admits, "I was just going to hang out here, avoid my dad."

"Joyce."

"It's fine. He was drinking last night so he wasn't in the greatest mood today."

"Where's your mom this weekend?"

"Visiting my uncle," she says.

"Let's go," he encourages, hopping down effortlessly from his seat on the plank. He didn't always know what to say when Joyce didn't want to talk about what was going on at home, but he knew he could do the next best thing and offer up a distraction.

"Where are we going?" she calls down to him. Slowly, she climbs down the platform until she reaches the lawn. She wasn't nearly as tall or coordinated as Hopper and never trusted herself to jump down.

"Celebratory milkshakes," he explains.

"What on earth are we celebrating?" she asks. He just broke up with Chrissy and in the past, he was notorious for pouting for days after a breakup. Today he seemed to be in an extremely chipper mood, leaving her to wonder if he cared for Chrissy as much as she thought he did.

"Life," he laughs, raising his arms in a dramatic shrug. He holds up his car keys and lets them dangle off his thumb while he waits for her to catch up.

"Can I drive?" she asks while they walk towards where his car is parked on the road.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?!" she whines.

"Because we're celebrating life Joy, we need to be alive to celebrate life," he smirks.

"I'm a great driver!" she exclaims.

"Just get in," he tells her, "I promise you can drive later."

.

.

Joyce and Hopper settle down at their usual booth at the diner and immediately order two chocolate milkshakes. While they wait for their drinks, he notices Joyce staring at a table across the aisle. Two girls are huddled together, whispering and giggling in their direction. Chrissy's friends.

"Hey," he says, placing his hand down on the table beside hers. "Ignore them."

"We don't have to stay here?" she suggests, "we can go-"

"Nowhere. We're not going anywhere."

"But-"

"But nothing. Ignore them. Let them whisper. Who cares what they think anyway. You and I were friends, doing things like this, long before Chrissy came into the picture. If they have a problem with us spending time together, they can confront us directly and tell us." His voice carries and Joyce knows that the girls are aware they're talking about them and she blushes.

"Hop. I wouldn't want a rumour to ruin your reputation," she admits shyly.

"I know I may have been a little lost these past few weeks, but I'm back Joyce. It's me. I could care less about what anyone thinks, let alone Chrissy's minions. And I never want you to worry about what anyone thinks, all that matters is this," he gestures between them with his index finger, "me and you."

"Besides, what's happening here has nothing to do with what happened between Chrissy and me so let's just enjoy our shakes and pretend we're the only people here, alright?"

"Alright," she nods, reaching for his hand. She places her palm over it and gently squeezes his wrist and just like that, the tension slips from his jaw because he knows she's alright.

Joyce grabs the milkshake the waitress just placed on the table between them and plops a straw into the drink. She doesn't ask what he means when he says "what's happening here" for fear that he'll tell her she knows exactly what he means. Instead, she takes a sip of her drink and smiles across the table at him.

"You know I'll always be there for you, right?" he asks out of nowhere.

"Where is this coming from?"

"I just… need you to know. I'll always be here Joyce. Even if you think I'm not. I'm here."

His words strike a chord and her entire body stills. It was an unspoken agreement they had, but hearing him say the words out loud, it meant something to her. It was such a personal sentiment and she knew he meant it with his entire heart. Part of her knew that even when he strayed with Chrissy, he would have been there had she needed him. She thought she would - need him, but surprised herself and found that she was stronger than she once believed herself to be. Still, it was nice to know that despite everything he would always be in her corner.

Rather than let him see how much his words mean to her, she smirks over at him and says, "God, you're such a sap today."

"Maybe I'm just trying to be a nice guy," he laughs.

"You're always a nice guy," she reminds him.

"Now who's being a sap," he teases.

Beneath the table, her knee collides with his and she draws back in her seat. Once she's regained her posture and sits back up, he moves his knee to touch hers again. She studies his face but he doesn't acknowledge his action. Instead, he begins to tell her a story about Benny tripping over one of the drill cones at practice the week before and they end up talking about Benny's new love interest. Hopper fills Joyce in on how the pair met at her party, though he awkwardly stumbles through the part about the party, carefully selecting his words about the evening in an attempt to not ruffle any feathers.

They talk and laugh and as the afternoon sun dips down and streams in through the diner windows, their knees are pressed together beneath the table. They order dinner and Hopper whines when Joyce steals more than half the fries on his plate after insisting she didn't want to order any. To get her back, he takes a massive bite out of her burger when she isn't looking but immediately feels guilty and insists that she let him cover the bill and buy dessert.

"I guess we should get going," he says after the bill is paid and there is no longer any natural light outside.

"You go ahead," she says, "I might stick around a while longer."

"Joyce," he says softly, "you can come over if you want?"

"It's fine. Really," she insists.

"Tell you what, why don't we hang out a while longer and then I'll drive you home?"

"You don't have to stick around Hop. I'll be fine to walk home."

"Have to, don't you mean get to?"

"You're ridiculous," she laughs.

"That may be true, but it made you smile so I'm going to call this a win."

Nearly two hours and another round of milkshakes later, Hopper pulls into Joyce's driveway to drop her off at home.

He follows her out of the car and up onto the front steps.

"Are we good Joyce?"

Their day was exactly like it had been pre-Chrissy, but he needed to be sure that things were moving forward and today wasn't some twist of fate one-off.

"We're good, Hop."

"You know you're my best friend, right?" he asks as he pulls her in for a side hug. They stay like that for a moment, wrapped up in one another; a long-awaited reacquaintance after their feud.

"You're mine too," she smiles when she finally pulls away. He watches as she climbs the steps of her porch and waves, swallowing the lump in his throat as the realization that he was in love with his best friend washes over him.

He stammers back to his car and climbs into the front seat but doesn't put the keys in the ignition. Kicking his boots up onto the dashboard, he leans back and watches as the lights in Joyce's house slowly flicker to life as she makes her way to her bedroom. When the light in the front-facing window glows, he allows himself to sigh and close his eyes. He would wait out here for a while until he was certain that her father wasn't going to lose it on Joyce for being out all day. Sitting in his parked car was something he'd gotten in the habit of doing a few years prior, after receiving a call the moment he got home from dropping Joyce off asking him to come back and get her.

Now, on days when he knew her father was in a bad mood, he waited at least thirty minutes - just in case. He's not sure she knows that he does it, and there has never been a time when she needed him but doesn't need her to know; he does it because he cares too much to ever let anything happen to her.

Eyes pinched shut, feet kicked up, he replays the moment over and over in his mind. The moment where he watched her walk away and realized he was terribly in love with her. Unlike the last time this thought entered his mind, he doesn't need to process or overthink it. He just knows, he's in love with her.

Head-over-heels in love with his best friend. Perfect.

Inside, Joyce manages to make it to her bedroom without running into anyone else and changes into a pair of fresh pyjamas. She completely forgot she was wearing Hopper's flannel the entire time they were at the diner and suddenly the gossiping between Chrissy's friends makes more sense. It wasn't abnormal for Hopper to give her one of his shirts or jackets, just like it wasn't strange for one of them to grab the hand of the other, but she understood how it looked to everyone else.

Once in her pyjamas, she slips her arms back into the oversized sleeves of the flannel and crawls into bed. She pulls her arms around her chest and smiles as she closes her eyes and begins to fall asleep, surrounded by the warmth of her comforter and the familiar scent of her best friend's flannel.

Today was a good day. The first day in weeks that felt normal. The only problem was she wasn't sure she could just forget about everything that happened between her and Hopper. After discovering she was interested in him romantically, she wasn't sure that she could ever go back to looking at their relationship the same way. Especially after his lust-filled confession telling her he felt the same way.

She knows they don't have to forget about it all; that they could face the facts head-on and deal with the ramifications but still she isn't sure that she trusts his feelings are true. Plus, his friends idolized Hopper for dating someone like Chrissy, what would people think if he started dating someone like her?

In the eyes of their peers, she knew someone like her would never be good enough for someone like him and she knew that despite his desire not to be, Hopper was the type of person who cares about what other people thought. His entire relationship with Chrissy had proved that.

What she wants is to see what they can be, but she can't be selfish and in the long run she believes that what she wants doesn't matter.

In the end, she decides to do nothing because in the back of her mind there's a nagging feeling that Hopper will change his mind and leave her again. Everyone was always abandoning her, she just lived life assuming that Hopper wasn't everyone. She refused to be let down and didn't want to find out that the man she put on a pedestal above everyone else was no different from everyone else that walked in and out of her life.

.

.

Over the next few days everything seems to fall back to normal. Aside from the glares Joyce receives from Chrissy and her minions and the few classmates that stop to greet Joyce in the hall, it was as if the entire feud between her and Hopper never happened. Joyce still enjoyed her lunch with Josie and Eli, but she and Hopper walked to and from class together and he drove her home after school. She hadn't spoken to Lonnie since that night she bailed on him at the diner but assumed he'd

he'd given up on pursuing her after he heard the rumours that were circulating about Hopper leaving Chrissy for her.

The rumours weren't true, but that didn't make them less of a hot topic. Joyce was approached by several people she'd never spoken to before and asked if it was true that she was dating Hopper. She told each of them the same thing; she wasn't. They were just friends. Even Josie had asked her if something was going on between them. Unlike her other classmates, Josie was the only one who seemed to believe Joyce when she claimed that nothing was going on.

Everything was back to normal, with the only noticeable difference being the shift in energy between her and Hopper. She knows it has something to do with the unresolved feelings they both silently agreed to sweep under the rug and she isn't sure how to deal with it. Things between them seemed tense at times, like each of them was waiting for the other to make a move or mention the unmentionable. Neither broke.

She wasn't willing to risk their fragile relationship and he wasn't one to overstep when it came to Joyce. They were at an impasse and neither of them was ready to make the moves necessary to move forward, so instead, they sat in a stalemate, just friends.

On Friday afternoon after final period, Joyce finds Hopper waiting for her at her locker.

He leans on the locker next to hers and watches while she puts her books away with a massive grin.

"Okay, what?" she asks, slamming the locker door shut.

"What?" he shrugs innocently.

"You have a look on your face."

"A look?"

"Yes. It's like you're up to no good."

"I'm always up to no good," he boasts. "But I thought of the perfect thing for us to do tonight."

"Well," she waits for him to continue, "what is it?"

"You and I are going to that fair a couple of towns over," he beams.

"A fair?"

"Yeah! You know, the one that's on all the flyers outside the gym."

"I don't know…"

"Oh c'mon Joyce! It'll be fun. I hear that a lot of people are going. Plus, if you ask me really nicely, I might even let you drive."

"Fine. I'll go. But I'm not asking nicely and you're letting me drive."

"You drive a hard bargain, Horowitz," he smiles. "I've got to get to practice but I'll pick you up at 7. Be ready!" he calls out to her on his way towards the locker room.

True to his word, Hopper shows up to pick Joyce up at 7 o'clock on the dot. He notices her mom's car in the driveway, something he hadn't seen in weeks and Joyce uses the front door instead of the window when she jogs out to meet him in her leather jacket and a dark pair of jeans. She immediately walks around the car to the driver's side and waits for Hopper to remove the keys and climb out of the car. Reluctantly, he does, clucking his tongue while he passes her the keys and begins on his way to the passenger's side.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive?" he asks. She tosses her hair into a messy low ponytail and adjusts his seat before climbing into the cabin and putting the keys in the ignition.

"I'm sure," she flashes him a smile.

"Alright, just… go slow while you back out."

"I wasn't planning on flooring it," she rolls her eyes.

The drive to the fair takes twice as long as it should but Hopper doesn't mind one bit. It's adorable how focused Joyce looks when she drives and he has a full view of the determined smirk plastered on her face since her hair is pinned back. He coaches her through the difficult turns and only panics once when she nearly runs a stop sign in a suburb near her house.

When they pull into the packed gravel parking lot on the fairgrounds, Joyce proudly shuts the car off and hands him the keys.

"Told you we'd make it here in one piece."

"You were right," he smiles.

"You can drive us home though," she tells him.

"How nice of you to let me drive my own car home," he jokes. "Seriously though, you're getting much better at driving."

"I have a good teacher," she tells him, making him blush.

The fairgrounds are composed of the largest fields Joyce has ever seen. On one side, the open space is filled with stalls and vendors selling produce and products, on the other, the night sky is being illuminated by a sea of colours flashing off of different temporary rides. She'd heard about this fair, it was a local thing that this town did yearly and something that the town of Hawkins was trying to start doing as an annual tradition; though she'd read in the papers that Hawkins planned on holding their fair in the summer instead of the spring.

The grounds are packed with people of all ages. Children tug on their parent's hands and giggle as they munch on large clouds of cotton candy while many of her classmates are in line for the rides and games. She and Hopper begin to make their way through the crowd as they look around.

Stride for stride, she walks next to him through the sea of unfamiliar faces. Hopper waves to a few people and asks Joyce what she wants to do first.

"Honestly, I have no idea. There's so much to do."

"Why don't we start with that?" his eyes light up when he looks in the direction of a giant bell. Joyce watches as the man standing next to it raises a comically large hammer and drops it down on a target, causing a small medallion to raise up the post and ring the bell.

"Yeah, right," she laughs. "Have you seen me? I'm not exactly the strongest person here," she informs him.

"Come on. I'll win you a prize," he tells her. He extends his palm and leads her through the crowd towards the game. She spots Lonnie with a group of his friends on the other side of it and considers waving, but he looks away when he notices her and Hopper.

Stupid rumours, Joyce thinks to herself.

Hopper pays the man at the booth and picks up the giant hammer with a massive grin. He manages to ring the bell on his second try and the booth attendant hands him a small brown bear with the tiniest green bow in its chest.

Joyce watches from the sidelines and pretends not to notice the bulge in his arms when he raises the hammer above his head and swings.

"Here," he says when he walks back over to her. "This is for you."

Joyce accepts the bear and hugs it against her chest. "Thank you," she blushes.

"What are you going to call him?" he asks her.

They begin to walk towards the rides and the back of their palms brush as he swings his arm between them, sending a jolt through him. He notices she withdrawals her hand and a deep red has settled in across her cheeks. She must have felt it too. Testing his theory, he walks closer to her and lets the back of his hand graze against hers, this time for a few seconds longer. She flinches but doesn't pull away and for a moment he considers taking her hand in his. He doesn't. It's too big of a risk and he doesn't want her to think he doesn't care about their friendship.

What he doesn't know is that a huge part of her wants him to take her hand and make the first move.

"Chester," she answers him. Holding up the bear, she nods, satisfied with her name choice.

"Chester?" he repeats back. "Why Chester?"

"I don't know, I just like the name. If I ever get a dog I think I'll name him Chester."

"It's a good choice then," he beams.

"So, where to next?" she asks. She puts Chester in her bag so that she doesn't lose him.

"You choose."

"Well, I know you hate rides so…"

"I don't hate them," he clarifies, "they just make me woozy."

"Hop, you've hated them since we were kids."

"Fine. I hate them. But I wouldn't hate that," he says, pointing to a funhouse with a neon sign that reads "Tunnel of Love."

"Oh god," she groans, "that is soooo cheesy."

"Doesn't make it any less fun. Come on," he waves for her to follow him.

"Maybe you'll change your mind and we can go on one ride after?"

"Doubtful."

"Please?"

"We'll see."

.

.

The tunnel of love was a two-story playground made out of pink and red plastic pieces. The ceiling of the first floor was covered in strange oval-shaped light bulbs in white and red that flashed in time with the music that played over the small speakers lining the floor.

Hopper purchases a handful of tickets and cashes two of them in exchange for hand stamps allowing both him and Joyce access to the attraction.

They begin with the mirror maze and Joyce nearly doubles over with laughter when Hopper walks face-first into a mirror and stumbles over. They take their time going through the rest, hands extended forward after Hopper complains that his coach will kill him if he gives himself a concussion in a funhouse mirror maze.

Joyce takes the lead and guides them to the second obstacle, swinging bean bags that are suspended from the ceiling.

"This is much more my thing," he brags. With a swift right hook, he swings the first bag out of the way for Joyce and then does the same for himself and trails after her.

Joyce bats at the second bag but it hardly moves and it remains in her path.

"Allow me," he says, smacking the thing clear out of the way.

"For the record, I only did that so you would feel better about the mirror thing," she lies.

"Sure," he winks.

The rest of the first floor is fun and simple, leaving Joyce and Hopper to joke around while they work through each of the mazes. As they approach the end, a large sign painted on the wall tells them that the Tunnel of Love is next. Up ahead, Joyce can see a large spinning tunnel that's been painted in a pale shade of pink.

"I don't get the whole tunnel of love thing, why not just call it a tunnel?" she asks.

"It's part of the theme. I guess some people buy into all that crap," he responds.

"Did you know that according to Greek mythology, soul mates are real?" she asks.

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

"No. But I read a book on it once. According to the legend, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Apparently, Zeus feared their power and split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves."

"That's insane."

"I agree. Imagine thinking there's someone out there that's meant for you," she laughs. "People who believe in things like that are total suckers. I'm not even sure I believe in love."

"Yeah," Hopper says, studying her face. He swallows hard and nods, but says nothing else. Instead, he watches as she continues through the tunnel of love, completely oblivious to the way he's staring after her. Yeah, he thinks. I don't believe in it either.

.

.

"Come on!" Hopper insists, tugging Joyce towards a row of arcade games.

"What are we doing, aren't these kid's games?"

"No, they're just games," he insists. "I'll win you something. Which one do you want?"

He points into a claw machine that is filled with small plastic spheres, each containing a different prize. Joyce peers over and ducks beneath his shoulder so she can get a better look at the items inside the machine.

"You don't have to waste your money on this," she informs him.

"It's not a waste of money, I want to win something for you. Choose."

She scans across the lot of prizes and smiles, secretly she adored how adamant he was on winning something for her. She already had the bear, she didn't need anything else, but she knows how stubborn he is and tells him to aim for a small plastic ring. The ring was a cheap silver and had a small blue gemstone stuck in the center, but it struck Joyce as simple and beautiful.

Four coins and several frustrated sighs later, Hopper pounds on the machine with his fist and curses. "Damn it!"

"Hey," she smiles up at him, placing her palm on his arm reassuringly, "it's okay."

"It's not okay. The machine totally ripped us off!"

"There's always next time," she tells him. "Plus, it was just fun watching you play."

"I'm sorry Joyce. I really wanted to win that little ring for you."

"What the heck am I going to do with some silly little arcade ring anyways? Besides, you already won me a bear and I love it."

"You do?"

"Of course I do. You won it for me," she grins. "Now, what do you say we find some snacks?"

"I say lead the way."

Walking away from the arcade booth, Joyce and Hopper practically walk face-first into Chrissy and her friends who are hovered around the exit. In an absolute panic, Hopper grabs Joyce's hand and tugs her towards the nearest ride with no line; the Ferris wheel. She follows without question, knowing how awkward he must feel. The rumours at school still hadn't calmed down and despite the two of them knowing that Hopper didn't leave Chrissy for Joyce, everyone else believed it which further alienated Joyce. Somehow, it made Hopper even more popular amongst his classmates. Apparently, the only thing cooler than dating a senior was breaking up with a senior.

From what Joyce had seen, Hopper was doing what he always did and ignoring the rumours but she also noticed he'd been avoiding Chrissy. Whenever they saw her in the hall he quickly ducked and looked the other way. When she asked him why he was avoiding Chrissy, he told her that Chrissy was livid with him and he didn't want to cause a public scene.

The two of them step onto the next available ride car and are fastened in with a metal lap bar.

"You alright?" she says. It's a statement, not a question and Hopper purses his lips.

"Yup."

She doesn't ask what that means; mostly, for selfish reasons. If she knew he missed Chrissy, she'd feel guilty for the things she was thinking. But he didn't care and now here he was by her side and the thoughts plaguing her mind were within reach, making them far more frightening than they were when he was unavailable to her.

During the first rotation they sit in awkward yet comfortable silence. Joyce takes in the full view of the fair and is in awe. It was much prettier from above than from the ground. She can feel how tense Hopper is next to her and does her best to remain light.

"I thought you hated rides," Joyce remarks, trying to lighten the mood.

"I do."

"Then why…?"

"Go on one with you? You said you wanted to. I just wanted to make you happy, see you smile."

"You do?" she whispers.

Suddenly, she forgets that Chrissy was the catalyst for this adventure. There is no one else. It's just the two of them, sitting on a tiny metal bench and spinning around in circles.

"I like your smile," he blushes. He's aware that her hand is dangerously close to his on the safety bar, so he rocks the car forward and uses the motion as an excuse to brush his pinky against hers.

"Oh."

"If that's alright with you?" The words roll off his tongue in a whispered tone, and he's leaning in close enough that she can practically feel them. His eyes scan hers, his palm settles on top of hers and uses his thumb to angle her head up towards his. He locks eyes with her and leans in but the ride lurches forward and tugs Joyce back. She reaches for Hopper's hand out of fear and links their fingers.

When the ride steadies and resumes, she attempts to pull her hand away but Hopper clutches onto it.

He speaks in a hurry, the sound of his voice, gruff and hushed, "Joyce."

"I-" he whispers, he closes the distance between them, lips hovering just above her ear, his body pressed against hers as much as the tiny plastic seat will allow.

"Yes," she breathes.

"You consider us friends, don't you?"

"Obviously," she responds.

"But…"

"But," she whispers, her lips ghosting over his with extreme patience that requires all of her attention.

He's about to give in and allow his lips to capture hers in a searing kiss only to be interrupted by the older man running the ride who yells, "next."

He lifts the bar and allows Joyce and Hopper to step off the ride.

The moment she steps off the ride, she sees Josie excitedly waving at her. Her friend calls her over but Joyce only has eyes for Hopper and turns to him before she acknowledges Josie.

"To be continued?" he asks.

She swallows hard and nods.

"Go on," he tells her, "we'll find each other later."

Joyce watches as Hopper wanders off to find his football buddies and then joins Josie for a few more rides. The entire time, she replays their moment on the Ferris wheel over in her mind. He was going to kiss her and she was going to let him. No, she wasn't just going to let him, she wanted him to. She still wanted him to.

She thinks about the way he spoke in a low and purposeful voice before they parted ways. Did he mean what she thought he meant when he said to be continued?

You keep his shirt

He keeps his word

And for once, you let go

Of your fears and your ghosts

[tinycrow]

I don’t believe in miracles

Chapter 2: Discovery

:: Unknown Location ::

It had officially been half a decade since Mission City. The autonomous robotic organism and caretaker named Ray was no longer finding ‘babies’ that were sparked by the entity known as the All-Spark. She hoped that this was because she had collected them all, rather than the babies dying off or being otherwise ‘acquired’ by another agency. With no real reason to risk being seen, she spent most of her time raising the sparklings at her home base. This was fine, she thought. She enjoyed seeing her sparklings grow to become upstanding workers in what was now a bustling, little city.

There were massive infrastructure changes that had been going on since the events in Egypt. There were 5 major underground tunnels that stretched across their territory. 3 of five tunnels led to an underground bunker that would hopefully protect any humans/non-humans that needed to wait out an attack on their fair city. It wouldn’t survive a direct hit from a nuclear explosion, but it was placed in such a way that it would hopefully not be targeted. It would keep warm and safe any occupants for a couple years. Other than the bunker, the tunnels provided a warmer route between buildings in the city, especially for humans. Still, it wasn’t uncommon for non-human residents to take up the role as “taxi” for other, smaller friends aboveground.

Because of this shift in foot traffic, non-humans were able to speed through the streets, rarely having to stop. Street racing was becoming a problem in recent years, to Max and Ray’s chagrin. There had been ongoing talk of incorporating bigger ‘bots into Max’s team in order to better police the streets, but ‘bots reaching near Ray’s size tended to be rare, considering how young all the other ‘bots in the city actually were.

There were also more places in the city to just hang out as well as enjoy food and drink. The greenhouse now sported a nice café as well as a plethora of flowers and other plant life.

“Okay. We’re going for a drive.”

“It’s... cold out,” Ray lamely refused, shoulders hunching slightly as she sat at a desk to read reports on her large data pad.

“It’s always cold out. We live in the freaking An-“

“I’m busy.”

“I know for a fact that you’ve already read through the security and finance reports. The rest can wait.”

“My babies-“

“-Are being taken care of by a team of now fully-trained humans and ‘bots. Besides, you don’t usually attend them at this hour anyway. We won’t be gone that long.”

Ray was silent and contemplative as she stared downward at Linda Davies, her long-time friend. Back when she was still roaming America, the red-headed woman had been one of her only companions, worried only about helping them both survive the next day. Linda was the one to suggest the novel idea of creating a place to call their own in a place outside the jurisdiction of any opposing government. It was a crazy idea from a possibly crazy friend, but then again, Ray’s life on Earth wasn’t sane from the very start.

Linda glared back in defiance. “You need a break. Enjoy some sunshine. Talk with friends.”

The ‘bot contemplated arguing with Linda more. They both knew, however, that Ray would be going with Linda. With a sigh, Ray put away the data pad and stood.

“Inside the city, or...?”

“I’ve got my eyes on someplace warmer.”

==

:: California, America ::

It was a much different experience, driving at a sedate/normal pace along with the rest of human-driven traffic. Ray didn’t mind it, but Linda seemed peeved as she shifted irritably in the front passenger seat. Perhaps she was too hot? Ray checked the temperature of the cabin and found it to be at a comfortable level with her cooling unit already on. Maybe she wanted some music? She pulled a playlist from the internet that seemed pretty popular.

Linda’s mood barely improved.

“What’s wrong, Linda?”

“I hate traffic.” She grumped, “How about... we stop for coffee and then drive farther from the center of town?”

The holoform in the driver’s seat frowned in thought.

“I guess... Though I feel less safe the farther from the ground bridge we are.”

“We won’t be long.”

==

An hour passes, and the two friends were driving along into the California countryside with the windows down and a coffee in Linda’s hand. Music was blaring from Ray, pulled from various sources as well as internal storage. They didn’t speak much, just enjoyed the feeling of being on the road again.

“Ah, I missed this,” the not-so-young woman said nostalgically, “I love our home, but I wish we had this kind of scenery, you know?” Linda griped with a smile.

“I agree. California’s nice. Actually... Earth is very nice.”

Linda smacked the dashboard lightly, causing the holoform to flicker out for a millisecond. The black-haired and green-eyed holoform grimaced with a small admonishment.

“Sorry. But you talk like you weren’t born here.”

Ray seemed to pause at that. “I suppose it is weird.” She hummed, and explained, “Sometimes it feels that way, you know? Being so different from the literal billions of humans that populate this planet.”

“And your time... before you changed?”

“Well...” The holoform exhaled harshly, “I lived a pretty lonely life. Other than the times I would help out local charities, nothing really made me happy. I’m pretty satisfied with where we are now, and I want to continue working in making life at home better for all of us. For all our kind.”

It was Linda’s turn to be thoughtful. She slowly formed the words, “You really want to open our home to the aliens.”

“Yes.” The answer came subdued but serious.

A familiar car turned onto their road.

The radio turned off.

“Linda, don’t be alarmed.”

Said woman’s back straightened. “Okay, we’ve gotta talk about ways to deliver bad news. What’s wrong?”

“That car behind us...  is one of the aliens we were discussing.”

Linda looked into the rear-view mirror and saw the silver sports car quickly gaining ground on them.

“Fuck no, he don’t.” Linda looked at the holoform of her friend, very displeased expressions on both their faces, “Can’t you go faster?”

“That depends. Are you going to throw that coffee away?”

“Is this really the time to worry about— “

“THROW IT.”

“OKAY!”

The coffee cup went sailing out the window and into the dry, yellow grass. The moment it hit the ground, Ray’s engine revved and her speed started steadily but quickly climbing. Because the road was fairly straight most of the way, she wasn’t worried about having to suddenly turn 90 degrees.

~ Ray and Linda to Shawn and Max. Linda and I are being followed. I need an emergency ground bridge. Are either of you at the console? ~

~ Shawn, here. I’m not, but I can be. Where are you, Sunshine? ~

~ Ray. We are in the California countryside. I don’t want to lead them back to the warehouses. Max, are you— ~

There was a huff of exhaustion as Max chimed in. ~ Max. I’m at the console. Send your coordinates. ~

Ray sent her coordinates as well as those of the car behind her. She told them how fast she was going.

Max swore. ~ There’s no way you can slow down, but if I send a ground bridge, you’re going to be a pancake on the building wall. I’ll look up exits. ~

Linda, hearing the conversation in her earpiece, gained a look of grim revelation.

~ Linda, here. I know none of us want to consider it, but we may need to fight. ~

Max was dismissive of the idea. ~ There are many reasons that won’t work. For one, they’re much more skilled at fighting than we are. There’s also the fact that they may be getting backup, while we don’t have anyone to backup Ray, unless we use the children— ~

Ray’s hackles rose at the thought, and she interrupted, ~ You are not sending my children after me. ~

Max sighed, sounding like he’d heard this, many, many times before.

~ I wasn’t going to. Look, there’s a gentle turn coming up, if you can pull a miracle and lose him, I can send a bridge to Point A. ~ Max sends Ray coordinates to a nearby farm.

~ Or to Point B. ~ He adds a new pointer further away.

~ Keep me apprised. ~ Max said, finally.

Ray affirmed the decision and planned. Knowing Linda would not approve, she kept it mostly to herself. She turned off the holoform, wanting to reserve processing power. It caught Linda’s attention.

“Ray?”

“Do you trust me?”

Linda narrowed her eyes at the dashboard, hearing her voice echo throughout the cabin.

“Do you trust me?”

==

~ Prime, that strange, unknown Cybertronian appeared again. They appear to have a human with them. I’m following them. ~

~ The human must be returned unharmed. Send your coordinates and we will block their escape routes. You are not to attack while they have the human. ~

~ Understood. ~

==

Ray took the gentle, right turn with slightly less speed but fully screeching tires. She would not let her friend come to harm. If this was to end in a confrontation, she would see her friend home, safe and sound with her people.

The dilapidated barn designated as Point A was coming up fast, and she swerved violently as she skidded to a halt, kicking up a massive storm of dust and dirt. She popped the door open. Linda jumped out, expecting a fight to happen. Just as expected, Ray transformed into her bipedal form, stance loose but looking vaguely like she was ready to fight.

~ Lin’, run to the barn and get that bridge open. ~

~ On it! ~

As the dust cleared, Linda had disappeared into the barn. Ray stepped cautiously forward, wanting to put distance between Linda and the other ‘bot. The silver car drifted in, transformed, and pulled out their blade all in one well practiced movement.

“Release the human, Decepticon, and I will let you live.”

Ray attempted to stall for time. “Not even a hello? A name? I’m afraid you got me at a disadvantage, sir.”

He stepped forward predatorily. She took a hesitant step back.

“Don’t play games with me, ‘con.”

~ It’s open! Hey, Max, wha—hey! Let me go! Ray! ~

Ray cut the transmission with some guilt, and opened a silent communication with Max.

~ Thanks, Max. ~

~ You realize the consequences of what you’re about to do, right? ~

~ I do. I leave my fate in your and our council’s hands. ~

“Well?”

Ray raised her hands slowly in surrender. With determination and serenity, she watched as a semi raced up to his comrade and transformed into bipedal form beside him. She blinked her optics at the new weapon pointed at her.

“I am no Decepticon.”

Sideswipe sneered, “Likely story. What were you doing with that human, then?”

“We were enjoying coffee and a drive through the California countryside,” she said calmly, and at the looks of disbelief, she clarified unnecessarily, “Oh, she was drinking coffee. I find no nutritional value in it.”

“Where is the human?” Optimus asked, getting back to the crux of the matter.

“Oh, back home I’m assuming. Max came by to pick her up.”

“Who is Max?”

“He’s chief of security for a rather large community of people. Are you going to arrest me, officers?”

Optimus gave a look to Sideswipe. Sideswipe resisted grumbling and cautiously approached the possibly deranged Ray, who had yet to draw a weapon.

“You are to follow us to an extraction point. If you deviate from the course, we will be forced to subdue you.”

“Alright, if you insist. Don’t stare at my bumper, I’m quite shy.”

The two mechs stared at her, and then glanced at each other.

‘Taking them off guard would be more fun if I wasn’t so terrified for what the future holds,’ she thought, and she thought of the children she probably wouldn’t be seeing in a very long time. She thought of the danger they could be in if things didn’t go well.

She focused on the details of the two mechs in front of her, hoping to ground herself, and pushed her fears down. She followed one mech and was in turn followed by the other.

==

A pacific Ray sat, essentially blinded in most senses, in what seemed to be a place for general storage. They had temporarily cut off her sight and other various sensors, leaving her with hearing and what was the robotic equivalent to touch. She had guessed that her captors did not have a designated holding area for non-human prisoners (a brig), and to keep their own secrets safe, deemed it necessary to take these precautions. She tried to be mad about it, but a large part of her understood; the Autobots and the humans associated with them were looking for Decepticons, and most Decepticons would rather die than be taken prisoner. Shuddering in fear, she admitted being blinded and constantly guarded wasn’t the worst that could’ve happened to her.

She sang a slow, crooning melody to pass the time and ease any anxiety.

Watching nearby were a pair of cold, blue optics that shuttered briefly at the sound. Memories from long, long ago of similar songs sung to them as a youth slipped into their awareness. The owner of these blue optics resisted the feelings of compassion and sympathy that threatened to take them off guard.

==

In a room far from the femme’s prison, the Autobots (barring one) were in a serious discussion.

“The femme certainly doesn’t act like any Decepticon I’ve seen,” Ironhide admitted.

“And of course, there’s no insignia showing which faction,” Sideswipe said, “Though she did run when she saw us. That’s enough cause for me.”

Optimus rumbled in thought, “Ray associates with humans. For most Decepticons, that would be beneath them.”

A human soldier also piped up, “What about her eye colour? Don’t they usually have red eyes?”

“The colour of one’s optics do not necessarily mean anything. Many Decepticons you have seen may have had red, but there have been those on our side with red as well. Hers are green, which are rarer, but it does not hold any specific meaning,” Optimus explained for the humans’ benefit. “Ratchet, what are your thoughts?”

“The femme has been compliant in every procedure taken to secure her as our prisoner. She has no internal weapons system, however she willingly offered information about her subspace storage containing a rifle, which I have disabled access to as well.”

No internal weapons? Not even a blaster? What kind of warrior disables themselves by not acquiring a proper weapon, especially in a war? The room erupted in chatter.

“Quiet.” The Autobot leader ordered, and then urged Ratchet to continue.

“I have been analyzing the unique radiation that she emits and can come to no conclusions yet. I will note however, that there’s something familiar about it.”

“Familiar, how?” Optimus inquired curiously.

“I cannot say for certain,” Ratchet demurred.

“Keep me updated,” their leader acquiesced, to which the chief medical officer just nodded.

In a quick private comm with Ratchet, Optimus asked, ~ Might I assume you do not want to broadcast whatever it is that is ‘familiar’? ~

~ You are correct. The radiation emitting from the Femme seems to react uniquely with the materials immediately surrounding her. On a molecular level, they are... moving unnaturally. ~

This news surprised Optimus, as this ability was something entirely new. ~ Could it be a new weapon? ~

~ It is hard to say. However, it’s familiar to one of the abilities of an entity we all know of and have lost. ~

~ ... We will talk about this later. ~

~ Indeed. ~

“For now, we will keep her under constant guard. Ratchet, you will continue studying her. All of you are to report any suspicious behaviour. If that is all, you are dismissed.”

==

One week after capture...

She heard a particular set of footsteps approaching and looked up with a genuine curve of her dermas (lips). She recognized those footsteps that had been visiting her almost every day since her capture. She greeted him sweetly.

“Ratchet.”

Ratchet didn’t bother hiding his pleased expression, knowing she couldn’t see.

“You can leave,” he told the guarding Autobot.

Arcee’s optics shuttered and opened again slowly in shock. “Ratchet?”

“Don’t worry, Arcee, she’s not going anywhere. But I technically count as her guard while I am here,” he explained, “so let me work in peace.”

Arcee, aware of Ratchet’s legendary temper, took the out as she saw it gracefully. “Alright. I’ll check in with you in one earth hour.”

“See you later, Arcee!” Ray smiled at the air, not quite sure where Arcee was as the femme was light-footed or on wheels? It was hard to tell.

When Arcee left, Ray turned to where she thought Ratchet was. A puzzled look and an inquiry were sent up to his left shoulder plate, “Is there a reason you sent her away?”

Ratchet settled himself in for a long conversation. There was the squeak of metal compacting slightly as he assumingly sat down on a crate. Ray was already sitting on the concrete with her legs tucked to the side. Her back strut straightened in attention as this event was different to the quiet study and offhand questioning he usually does. Though Ratchet had been nothing but gentle—if grumpy at times—with her, she wondered if that was about to change. Her spark quickened in a small niggling of anxiety.

It must’ve shown in her expression, because he quickly said, “You’re not going to come under any harm in my care, I assure you.”

Ray relaxed slightly, but still had her doubts as she asked, “Is something the matter?”

“I’ve been talking with Optimus and we both agree that it’s time to consider long term plans for your stay here. You have proven yourself to be non-hostile as well as open to our prodding at you and your radiation field. Such good behaviour does not warrant what could be considered torture by sensory deprivation.”

She simply stared blindly at him for a second before slowly admitting, “It would be nice... to see whom I am talking to.”

It only took around 15 minutes to re-enable the appropriate sensors, and he was being intentionally slow and careful. The first thing she saw was thick, yellow-plated servos. When they pulled away, her green optics were wide and bright as they took in the much taller mech. He was sitting, but by her estimates he would probably be at least 5 feet taller than she was. She vocalised a high whistle and winked.

“Cheeky brat. I bet you and Bumblebee would get along just fine.”

Ray took a moment to look at one of her kind captors. She knew the aliens were well armoured and gunned; she had seen it on the day of her capture. However, even the kind medic that had been in her company for days now seemed alarmingly well built. Subconsciously, she pulled her legs up to her chest, in the foetal position. She never liked conflict, but she understood why good people fought. Once upon a time, she was a fighter too, before The Change. But those were weaker foes compared to the aliens she faced now.

“There’s something else we’ve been meaning to talk to you about. You constantly assure us that you are not a Decepticon, but none of us recognize you, nor do we see any mark of affiliation with us.”

She was silent for a while. Ratchet seemed to wait patiently as she seemed to deliberate, optics tracing a path on the ground. The black-armoured femme seemed to come to a conclusion and faced him with a brave speech.

“That is because I am neither a Decepticon nor an Autobot.”

Ratchet didn’t seem surprised by her answer. Truthfully, Optimus and he had been speculating on this ever since she came into their custody. It was hard to believe, but it was the only explanation that fit. The Neutrals had been exterminated early on in the war. This faction was mostly made up of ones who could not or would not fight for one reason or another. They usually had a hard time making a living, and Decepticon raids would eventually become the reason that no Neutral was thought to be alive to this day.

If Ray was a Neutral, it would explain her behaviour towards humans and conflict with either of the opposing factions.

It didn’t quite explain away the radiation that caused nearby molecules to dance almost excitably in her vicinity, or the way she could put you at ease in her presence—a feeling of protection and unconditional love. There was just something missing from this explanation that Ratchet needed to figure out. He had asked specific questions before, but hopefully this time she would willingly answer.

“What colony are you from?”

His question was met with silence. Ratchet withheld a sigh of disappointment, but something in his demeanour must have changed. She saw his disappointment and immediately felt guilty.

She wanted so badly to tell the truth, but it couldn’t be helped. Her people had rights to their privacy and security. She hadn’t gotten communication from the council indicating it was okay to share that information—Ratchet didn’t know but she had easily repaired the severed wires in her antennae. Anyway, it was doubtful that the council would ever agree to open their city to the Autobots, because she knew the humans were afraid. She wished that the time they spent in her and her babies’ presence would ease some of that fear, but it was still not an easy decision to make. She could only hope her feelings reached the people she loved and trusted.

Ratchet tried a different angle, “When did you arrive on earth?”

Ray’s optics, formerly gazing guiltily away, snapped up to Ratchet. This she could technically answer. Her voice was soft but sure as she answered.

“Sometime in the 80’s. But I didn’t start travelling until the late 90’s and didn’t find a place to settle until... the Mission City disaster.”

He thought on this for a bit. It was a bit telling when the femme would be forthcoming with all topics except for where she came from and where she was staying. It made him wonder if there were more Neutrals hiding somewhere.

“Who was that travelling with you when we found you?”

With a pang of anxiety, Ray cautiously revealed, “Linda. She’s a good friend of mine. She... gave me a home.” It was as close to truth as possible. Linda didn’t just give her a home but had helped build it.

“Is there a way we can contact Linda?” He asked, and seeing her wariness, he continued, “If you were happy with her before, I’m sure Prime would let you return as her guardian.”

Ray visibly struggled with herself. There was distress at wanting to be open about her home—she was so proud of what she had helped build—but wanting to respect her people’s wishes. Something in her rattled, and her dentas clenched reflexively.

“I want to... but I can’t... I can’t... It’s not safe... We do not trust...” Her processor stuttered through the many things she wanted or needed to say but was scared of divulging. It created a loop she could not break herself out of.

Ratchet’s servo braced itself on her shoulder, and her continued stuttering petered out. His voice was consoling as he assured her that the Autobots did not mean her or any friend of hers harm, that they had promised to protect humans from the Decepticon threat. The rattling of her mechanical parts somewhere in her quieted, and she took in and vented out air harshly in a very human gesture of recovery.

“There you go. Easy now. You’re safe.”

He tried to pick up the conversation afterward, but her continued silence was worrying. Did she not feel safe here? Granted they took precautions to protect the base’s secrets, but she had not shown any negative effects of the treatment until now. He would speak with Optimus about improving the conditions of her stay here.

==

Three weeks after capture...

It had taken a lot of arguing, but she was finally allowed to—under strict supervision and great limitation—to ‘step’ out of the storage room. Though, to protect the secrets of the existence of Cybertronians, she was only allowed to be in vehicle mode, and it would be in the evening when most of the day’s work was done. Perhaps they were afraid of spy satellites seeing their bipedal forms. With her sight restored, she took the time away from the constant interrogation to simply enjoy the sunshine and the sound of waves nearby. She drove circles or figure 8’s around her guard as well as objects to exercise her precision driving. She even asked her guards about stunts like wheelies, which the amused Autobots agreed to teach her in the limited time she had outside.

Inside the storage room, she would turn into bipedal mode to work her joints, cables, and pistons. She would contort herself in all the ways she knew possible before she grew bored. Sometime during the middle of the day, Ratchet would come along to poke, prod, or ask her things. Very rarely did she ever see Optimus Prime, the Autobots’ leader. When she asked once, she was told he was very busy dealing with the human government and their liaisons. It wasn’t explicitly said, but it was obvious to her that the human government wasn’t happy with the Autobots’ continued stay on Earth.

Though Ray did her best to keep the secret of her little city, she could see that the Autobots were beginning to piece together little things she had been saying (or hadn’t remembered saying). They brought up what she said when Sideswipe and Optimus first cornered her at the abandoned farm, about Max and Linda, about the mysterious warehouse that was obviously just a warehouse and nothing to be suspicious about—

She wasn’t very good at this secret keeping business. Ray supposed it was inevitable that a race so much more experienced than she would start to figure it out, and she only hoped that her people would forgive her.

==

1 month after capture...

Not much changed over the next week, except she obviously gained some level of trust with the Autobots and was involved in less discrete conversations more. Perhaps they had figured out her secret already. They avoided telling her what they thought, so she wasn’t sure.

It was a little over a month when she got a communication from Max, who obviously spoke for the council in this matter. The break in the comm silence ever since her capture took her so off guard, that she froze in the middle of an interrogation. When asked what was wrong, she was too shocked to formulate the words she needed to say, and instead asked to be given some time alone with her guard.

It took her two hours to gather her courage, but she asked to meet with Optimus and Ratchet, stressing that she wanted them alone or she wouldn’t reveal anything. After the agreement was secure, she tried to secure the area against listening devices or humans, using her powers discretely to do so.

It was time.

[anika-ann]

The Line between Respectful and Stupid - Pt.1

God Bless Office Rats

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader       Word count: 1610

Warnings: swearing, gun violence, blood

Summary: First mission as a SHIELD agent. With the Captain. What could possibly go wrong?

Story Masterlist

Being one of the newest recruits-finally-turned-agents, you didn’t expect to be more than a paper-pusher honestly. You couldn’t say you were exactly content with that, but hey, at least you left the imaginary nest of baby to-be-agents relatively soon, actually feeling a bit proud. A bit.

As it turned out, you were about to be a paper-pusher; for like a day. And then Agent Kirski – big fella, in all senses if the word, one of the big fishes, a legend – casually walked into the office where desks of agents on duty were barely divided into boots to create an illusion of their own private space, stopped right in front of your desk, crossed his arms on his chest and with serious eyes told you: “Agent 19, you’re up. Wheels up in thirty.”

And your whole mind was a one huge what the frack with three question marks alternating with exclamation marks and you stared ahead of yourself for at least five minutes until Harry, the good friend of everyone in the office space he was, nudged you with a gentle smile, excited and a bit worried.

“Don’t get yourself shot, Little One. You’re too young to retire,” the man with grey hair said to you with a grin, thinking how funny he was since he was the one who actually was supposed to be retiring like two years ago.

You chuckled self-depreciatingly to humour him and let a quiet “Don’t worry.” slip out.

Which was clearly a serious mistake, because ten minutes after your team – under the strict command of Captain Steve Rogers aka Captain America, how the fuck had you got to this mission again? – landed its quinjet, things blew up.

Literally.

Because it was a set-up.

Seemingly an abandoned base was in fact full of members of terrorist organization which was inspired by Nazi’s HYDRA and they apparently developed a new tech to mask themselves from SHIELD’s radars, because suddenly there were tens of people versus your barely coordinated group of seven.

You didn’t even have time to take cover.

“Look out!” a male voice you couldn’t place yelled from your right and you frantically scanned your surroundings, not sure if it was a warning meant for you.

When bullets started raining around you, miraculously avoiding your body, you were suddenly more than confident that the speaker – whoever he was – definitely wanted to address you.

You crouched behind the nearest tree, peeking to find a target, the quinjet still open few feet from you. Not that you checked because wanted to run back into it and then fly away, happily returning to paper-pushing. Not at all.

Maybe a bit.

When the insane fire, making splinters and leaves looking like they had been through a smoothie machine, stopped flashing around you, you got out of your cover just for an inch to return few bullets to the enemy.

“Shit!” you hissed under your breath when the joke turned out to be on you, a bullet going straight through your arm.

The shocking pain came like a tide-wave only few seconds later when you were secured behind your poor natural shield of a tree. You felt tears in your eyes at the gnawing agony, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from screaming.

Yeah, sure, alert more people to where you’re hiding. Great plan, Miss Grown-Up Agent.

You huffed and with your right hand unfairly shaky, you tried to reciprocate the fire once more. You barely managed to empty the magazine of your gun by the time you heard the ominous beeping that was haunting you in your nightmares due to the excessive use of that distinctive sound in your training.

The ticking of the bomb was too fast. It was about to explode any second and you had no idea where it was coming from and where you should hide.

The answer offered itself. It came in a form of a huge figure springing your direction. You didn’t even have time to brace yourself and a man slammed his body into yours with a deafening sound of an explosion in the background that felt way too close.

A shockwave smashed into you, sending you sliding through the grass and mud, but not as burning as it should.

It was because your body was basically wrapped in another one, very male, very huge, and very much hid behind a vibranium shield.

Your brain finally caught up. Captain America just probably saved your life. And fuck, make that definitely.

You didn’t thank him; before you could open your mouth, he pulled you to your feet by your arm – the injured one – and sent a wave of throbbing agony through your whole body. You gritted your teeth and didn’t let out a sound.

Your feet moved on autopilot.

Your ears were still ringing from the explosion, dirt flying away from under your feet and yet you blindly followed the man you owed your life and soul. You noticed his lips were moving rapidly, but you gave up on trying to understand what he was saying.

Before you knew it, you were basically shoved into an all-road vehicle that appeared out of fucking nowhere and suddenly you were driving away, crouched as you were taught to, hearing the bullets raining against the bullet-proof glass.

“If you hear me, get the hell out. I don’t know where each of you is so I can’t get you – you’re on your own. Retreat and use the distress signal when safe. Repeat, use the distress signal.”

You were still covering your head, trying to ignore the sharp turns he was taking, making your body sway from one direction to another.

“Keep pressure on it!” he barked then and you winced, surprised by the urge in his voice as much as the relative calm.

You blinked your eyes open, not realizing you had had them squeezed shut. He was talking to you, wasn’t he? Your arms eased the cage you held your head in – and fuck, did it hurt to move your right arm, how could have you not noticed it when covering yourself – and you obediently put your palm over the wound.

“Yes, Sir,” you replied automatically, only to shook your head. Way to go, Miss Agent. “Yes, Captain.”

You were very hesitant to actually apply any pressure despite knowing it was necessary. The thing was, you also knew that if you did so, the pain would send your head spinning-

A sharp turn right and suddenly you were applying pressure while using your injured hand to prop up your body against the dash so you wouldn’t end up in your commander’s lap. The spray of bullets fell silent, only a stray hitting the cracked glass.

“Sorry,” the captain muttered and you, surprised by the rather sudden freedom of the immediate danger, straightened yourself in the seat, managing to fasten a seatbelt. It meant few more moments without touching your wound, which was perfectly fine with you.

You even had time to check out your driver, whose glorious uniform – and doubtlessly handsome face, mostly hidden by his helmet – was covered in dirt and a bit of blood. His half-gloved hands were both firmly clutching the wheel, his gaze darting towards the rear-view and wing mirrors.

You had no clue what possessed you to answer to his unexpected apology. What was he apologizing for anyway? For saving you from being blown up and getting you to safety? Yeah, sure, deadly sin.

“That’s quite alright, Sir. You’re driving for our lives.”

He shot you a strange look, effectively stopping your heart, but then he shook his head, unfastening the strap on his helmet. He tossed it on the backseat, right next to his shield. Huh, you hadn’t noticed that baby before. Of course he would take his shield to safety. He was clearly very attached to it.

And you were getting pretty big-mouthed – good thing you didn’t say the last thoughts out loud. He was your freaking commander and you should act like it.

“Sorry, Captain, that sounded less bold in my head,” you murmured, gritting your teeth when trying to follow his instruction – and your training – and finally press against the gunshot wound in your bicep.

Maybe you just imagined it, the adrenalin and blood loss making you see things, but when his eyes glanced your direction again, a hint of a lopsided smile was settled on his face.

“Whatever you say, Agent. Just try not to bleed out even with my terrible driving skills,” he threw back and despite your better judgement, you gave him a tired smile back.

“Where exactly are you taking us? I mean… us, right? You’re not gonna ditch me on a side of the road and drive to the sunset alone?”

What on Earth am I saying?!

“I’m not gonna leave you bleed out on the side of the road. Or anywhere else,” he promised, voice serious, but surprisingly kind and patient.

Was it wrong of you to feel quite relieved at that? Should you be ashamed for even asking the supposed incarnation of justice, liberty and heroism such a ridiculous question…? That being him, apart from many things that were being whispered behind his back? You didn’t really care.

You melted into your seat, resting your head against it, slightly turning your face to look at his profile. He seemed focused on the driving, yet lost in thoughts.

“Where are we going then?”

Perhaps you should have been able to figure it out yourself, but your brain was getting a bit tired, most likely because you were still bleeding. You thought you were entitled.

“To a safe house.”

Part 2

Tags:

@mermaidxatxheart​

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous; continuing from this post)

“Alright, you have everything, right?” Flamebringer was checking his pockets to make sure he had all his things. “RIIde, the money Saria gave you, everything?”

“Yep! I can’t believe the Doctor said this was okay.” Ifrit, standing at the door, watched him intently, as if every move he made had some hidden wisdom to it.

His flashback to the hell-talk that had been was brief but painful; nevertheless, he hid it to avoid her getting the wrong impression. “Alright, then let’s go meet Lena at the pad. How do I look?”

“How do you look?” She gave him a once-over. “Like you tried today.”

“Thanks.” He rolled his eyes but flashed her a smile.

She stamped her foot. “Come on, come on, let’s go! Keeping her waiting won’t make you more handsome!”

“Oh, now it’s ‘more handsome,’ huh?” As Flame took her hand and closed the door behind him, he laughed at the look she gave him. “You are so easy to read, Sis. There are going to be fireworks, right?”

“Tons of them, the book said. They have to have enough to scare off the Nian, after all.”

He blinked. “The what?”

“The Nian!” Ifrit saw his confused look and snickered. “I know something you don’t! That’s never going to happen again, is it?”

“I haven’t always been your older brother, so I wouldn’t put it past you.”

She shivered. “Don’t remind me. Anyway, are you going to propose tonight?”

“Am I going to what now?” Flamebringer sighed. “No, I still don’t have a ring.”

“Do you need a ring to propose?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but...suddenly, he didn’t have an answer. Instead, he turned back to the hall ahead of them. “Once the fireworks are done, we’re coming back, even if the booths are still open, okay?”

“Okay!” Ifrit squeezed his hand. “Look, there’s Lena!”

“I see her.” As nonchalant as he made it sound, Flamebringer didn’t just see her; no, that was too mundane a word for the rapture he felt as his eyes traced the brim of her sun hat, reflected the yellow of her dress, tangled in her hair which had broken free of its usual bow-binding. He delighted in her existence, and if the way she looked at him was anything to go off of, the feeling was mutual.

Ifrit, completely oblivious to all of this, ran to her and hugged her, obscuring his view as she and Perfumer were roughly the same height. “Thanks for coming with us! I don’t think I could entertain him the whole time.”

“Right, that’s why I’m here.” Lena chuckled, returning the embrace. “Are we ready to go, Flame?”

“Certainly. You’re positively divine tonight, my dear.” He didn’t wait for Sis to move before hugging the both of them, sharing a kiss with Lena with a rather awkwardly-sandwiched Sarkaz between them.

Said Sarkaz slipped out and made herself comfortable in the car they were taking. “Come on, lovebirds, we’re burning moonlight!”

“If we must,” Flamebringer whispered, allowing the moment to pass as they settled into their transport. “Lungmen, Market District, as fast as you can.”

“Maybe not that fast,” Perfumer suggested, which the driver seemed to take as his actual guidance. They had time as they rolled by to see the other districts embracing the night life if only for the one night, lanterns lit in the twilight like low-hanging stars on the streetside. Even so, it was clearly not their final destination, as the lights ahead shone brighter still, and Ifrit was entirely focused on those. The other two were less entranced by the beauty of it all, as they had other things on their minds, but it was certainly undeniable. 

Once they arrived at their destination, Ifrit ran off ahead, and the happy couple followed after her, stopping at the booths she found interesting and keeping within sight-lines when something caught their eyes. There were a few booths where the girls looked to Flamebringer to win the prizes, and they cheered when he easily won them each a stuffed animal large enough to wear on their backs, among other things, at a ball toss booth.

However, it was Ifrit who shone the brightest, literally, when they found a fire juggler asking for volunteers. “Ooooh, Bro, can I can I can I?”

“I won’t stop you.” He smiled as she dashed over to the man and took two torches when offered.

“Are you sure-” Lena began, but stopped mid-sentence as the Sarkaz began to juggle them effortlessly. “She can juggle?”

Flamebringer nodded. “She’s quite talented, actually - she’s got amazing hand-eye coordination, surprisingly sharp reflexes for a Caster, more than enough willpower.”

“You sound like you want to make her a swordsman,” she smirked.

“I mean...” He watched her set the torches alight at both ends. “She asked, but I worry it would accelerate her Oripathy.”

She elbowed him. “That hasn’t stopped you before.”

“I’ve swung this sword with crystals on my skin longer than she’s been alive. She...She’s young, and I don’t want to send her down the wrong path.”

“So you’re protecting her.” Lena squeezed his arm. “That’s sweet.”

Flamebringer smiled. “Not as sweet as you, sunflower.”

“Oh, stop it.” She walked her hand down his arm as Ifrit began doing proper baton-twirling stunts; for her final stunt, as she stuck the landing, a gout of fire roared from each hand as she extinguished the torches mid-arc. The crowd, for once, was not literally on fire, but metaphorically as they let loose an absolute torrent of applause.

“Thank you, Lungmen!” Ifrit gave her fans a devilish smile. “Enjoy the rest of the festival!” With that, she walked back over to her family, who picked that exact moment for a kiss. “Hey, lovebirds, I’m done!”

Lena held out a hand for her to high-five. “I didn’t realize you were an acrobat, Ifrit.”

“You spend enough time dodging crossbow bolts, you’ll probably be pretty flexible, too. Oh, hey, I think the fireworks are about to start!”

“You mean you weren’t the fireworks?” Flamebringer took her hand. “Sis, if the Nian was real, I’m sure that would scare them off right then and there.”

She blushed as she kicked his foot. “You weren’t even watching.”

“Oh, we watched the whole thing; you just caught us at the exact moment we weren’t.”

“Yeah, sure.” She let go of his hand. “I’ll go find a spot to watch the fireworks; you can do whatever.”

“Sis-” But there was no stopping her; Flamebringer sighed as he watched her dash through the crowd.

Lena squeezed his hand. “Do you want to go after her?”

“...No.” He squeezed her hand back. “If she doesn’t want to use her words like an adult, I’m not going to indulge her. We’ll find her before we leave.”

“Okay...”

They followed the crowd through a maze of buildings and up several flights of stairs to the roof of one of Lungmen’s smaller high-rises; Flamebringer locked eyes with the back of Ifrit’s head long enough to register where she was before the show began. As colors flashed across the sky and explosions roared with dragon-cowing fury, he looked at Perfumer and smiled. “This evening’s been wonderful.” Most people would need to shout. Flame was not most people.

“Almost perfect,” she agreed, much more loudly. “I’m glad Ifrit invited us to come along.”

“Invited us? No, I brought her-” He realized, as Lena gave him a knowing look, the mistake he’d made. “I brought her here to spend the evening as siblings.”

Lena kissed his cheek. “Go talk to her. I’ll still be here.”

“Right...I love you.”

“I know.”

Flamebringer stood up and walked over to Ifrit. “Very pretty.”

“I’ll talk to you later.” Like him, she didn’t need to yell to be heard over the show. “When I’m not mad.”

“How about over sushi?”

No response. He nodded to himself before sitting down, going to put his arm around her shoulder but hesitating, leaving it hovering behind her. “...I’m sorry.”

“For forgetting why we’re here in the first place?” She tore herself away from the dazzling lights to look him in the face. “Did you at least propose?”

“...No, I-”

Ifrit growled. “Don’t bother right now. You’ll pay for sushi?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll talk over sushi.” She turned back to the fireworks. “Do what you need to do before then.”

He sighed before giving her a seated hug. “Love you, Sis.”

“...Love you, too.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, sweet but unfamiliar. It would’ve been impossible to tell under the light of stars and sparks, but she was red in the face from pretending to be angrier than she was. Not that she hadn’t been, it was just...He had to pay some kind of consequence for ignoring her, didn’t he?

“We’re going for sushi after this,” Flamebringer told Lena upon returning to her. “Before we do, we...need to talk. Can we go downstairs?”

She nodded and took his hand so he could help her up. Once they were out of the fireworks’ noise-cancelling range, and were safely on a staircase landing, Perfumer frowned. “Is everything okay with Ifrit?”

“We’ll work it out. She needs a bit of time to herself...But that’s not what we need to talk about. Lena, will you marry me?”

“Definitely.” She watched him for a moment. “You mean soon, right?”

He nodded. “I’d like to start planning it, yes.”

“What happened to waiting to have money for a ring?”

“Ifrit asked me why, and I didn’t have an answer.” Flamebringer smiled. “There’s symbolism to a ring, certainly, but I can’t hold out for that anymore.”

Lena wrapped him a hug. “And I couldn’t be happier. Why would I want an expensive metal circle, anyway? Ridiculous.”

“As an alternative way of expressing my love for you, you can decide the restaurant we go to after this.”

“My preference,” she replied, “is Ifrit’s pick. Wherever she wants to go.”

Flamebringer nodded. “As you wish. Do you think they’re almost-” As if to answer their question, the doors above them opened, and people began pouring down the stairs. Taking Lena’s hand, he fought the current of the crowd back to the roof.

“Well, is it official yet?” Ifrit was, as he’d predicted, still watching the sky despite the lack of fireworks.

“Official, no, but we’ll be working on that.” Lena, wrapped around one arm, beckoned Ifrit over. “We’re going to a sushi place now, if I heard correctly?”

The Sarkaz slowly got to her feet, wincing a little from the Originum scraping against her patella. “Yep. First place we find.”

“Well, that simplifies things.” He let her pass him and followed her down the stairs, Lena’s arms still around his.

“Alright, let’s go eat.” After a few steps unattached, Ifrit slowed down to take Flamebringer’s free hand. “Hey, Bro? Some time, could we go somewhere just the two of us? No offense, Lena.”

She shrugged. “None taken. We’ll have plenty of time for ourselves, after all~”

“Just say when and where, and I’ll try to make it happen.” Flamebringer squeezed her hand

“Tomorrow, then?” Ifrit looked up at his face. “Maybe not even going anywhere, just...come hang out?”

He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“Alright, then. We can go home now.”

“We could.” As he said this, he was making a beeline for a restaurant. “Or I could buy sushi for my darling fiance and sister.”

As the Sarkaz looked to Lena for support, she simply received a shrug. “Your fate was sealed from the start.”

[blackmaylovesfries]

“I’m so sorry…” - Meeting him

Asked: No

Words: 2047

Sinopse: Seventeen Hybrid AU - Kim Mingyu is a walrus hybrid that don’t know his talent. Until he was knocked down.

Notices: guns and mention to violence (not explicit) and to torture (not explicit) and not so good English.

Masterpost

Previous / Next

Kim Mingyu loved the water. There were where he was supposed to be after all. But the feeling of being in the water was just a memory on his mind, a really distant memory. The last time he was allowed to swim was before he was sold, when he was about 4 years old.

So his mind only knew a pale sensation of being in the cold ocean. After he was sold to the restaurant he works Mingyu wasn’t even allowed outside the place, so no swimming for him.

Mingyu knew that wasn’t ideal for him, since his body was made for being in the water at least ⅔ of the time. Because of that, he was quite a clumsy boy, he often knocked things down and fell, this leading to his owner beating him up to punishment.

Mingyu had learn that the phrase ‘I’m sorry’ could save him of more and maybe even win him a short bath. That was his life since young age, he would be awaken by a already furious owner, then serve and clean the tables all day, be beaten because some mess he did and then go back to bed. Nothing more, nothing less.

---

You had just finished setting Seokmin on the room when Jinyoung came running for you.

“The8 is here.” He was breathless from the running.

“What?!” You couldn’t believe that the wild hybrid was on the center. For a moment you let yourself think that he maybe could be there to accept your help? No, that’s not The8 you know. If he was really here, it was a serious matter, more important that he staying under your cares.

“Come.” He give you just time enough to say a quick goodbye to Seokmin before sprinting through the hallway. You two soon arrived on the main door of the building, you saw that in fact the hybrid was there and discussing with Youngjae. “You wanted to talk with all the team?” They turned to Jinyoung.

“Yeah, please, sit.” The hybrid you called ‘The8’ because the number of times the team found him in dangerous situations and he still refused your help indicated the chairs on the hall, as he was really the owner of all the building. Without arguing, you and the rest seated. “First of all… I’m not here to be domesticated by you.” He glared everyone. You just nodded and waited.

“We imagined that, even if this isn’t what we do here.” Jaebum glared back.

“I don’t really care.” His wilderness was revealed by the hiss he let go on the end of his phrase. “Anyway” He calmed down “I heard about a restaurant that are maintaining marine hybrids there.” The8 let the words shink.

“They are in the middle of the city and, as I guess you are not all stupid, you must know that there aren’t an ocean in the middle of the city.” He got up and waited for an answer.

“Can you give Youngjae the coordinates?” You were quick to respond. He nodded and the Genius started to take notes of what he was talking. You turned to the others.

“Let’s go check after Youngjae do his research. Marine hybrids are in extinction risk so this needs to be our top priority.” They also nodded to me, getting up to gather the equipment. You turned to The8 “Are you sure that you don’t want to stay? We have some other wild hybrids here.” Besides your sweet tone, he hissed to you.

“No.” 

“Then why did you came to tell us this? Not that I don’t appreciate, it’s just that you’ll be putting other hybrids under our care.” You crossed your arms, waiting for the hybrid.

“Because even if I tried I couldn’t save them. You, besides everything, do have a better chance to get all of them out of there.” After that, without looking to your direction, he picked his bag and went back to the outside world.

---

Mingyu was screaming. He knew that the man liked when he screamed and shown pain, so he screamed with all his force. This beating was taking longer than the normal.

The man shouted to him things like ‘It’s your fault if they find us now’, ‘What did I say to you about going out that door?!’. All because Mingyu had wanted to help a marine fellow who couldn’t even get up because of dehydration.

He had got out the restaurant back door and tried to fill a bucket of water on the small pond the owners maintained before anyone discover him. But a passing guy saw him. The guy was another hybrid, a wild one for the scent.

He was slim and seemed to have starved many nights on a roll, this would explain why he was near the trash of the restaurant. Mingyu felt bad for the boy, who asked right away what was happening inside the restaurant. Mingyu is an innocent child, he did tell everything for the stranger, but he only notice the mistake when his owner opened the back door.

“Here you are, you scan.” His heavy hand grabbed Mingyu but paused when noticed the other. “Yah, go away!” The man threw something in him, that got out of there really fast. This is why Mingyu was breaking the routine and receiving his beating in the middle of the day. It took hours to the master finally become pleased with his work.

After that, the other hybrids were forbidden to enter the room he was and Mingyu was left naked and hurting on the cold cement floor. Mingyu was passed out when the shouting began.

He could hear some distant shots and his owner voice screaming with someone. There were some fight it seemed but he couldn’t really have sure because his consciousness wasn’t fully awake yet. He almost didn’t noticed the door opening. Almost.

“Oh gods…” A female voice whispered. He felt small hands brace him before the darkness took control of him again.

---

You almost cried when Youngjae said that the info was right and your team could go on the emergency operation. Mark got the truck to transport the hybrids - you didn’t knew how many hybrids there was - and Jackson got a SUV so he and JB could take care of the humans on the situation. You and the younger ones were on the back of the vehicles, ready to jump in action as soon as it needed. 

All of you arrived on the said restaurant after something an hour, since both drivers ran like crazy and you had to actually enter the city. You and JB had already discussed the plan and everyone was ready on the position.

As a phantom organization, you guys didn’t needed a material proof of what was happening there to enter, but it was good to be cautious. So, you and Jinyoung entered as clients.

You thought that it would take some time for the hybrids show up or at least that they would be a little hidden. But you soon noticed that you were so wrong… A human guided you and Jinyoung out of the lobby to the real restaurant.

There, the waiters were all hybrids, most were wild rare hybrids, but there were some - two or three, you couldn’t count at the time - marine hybrids as well. They had marks and scars on the wrist, cleary a sign of torture.

Right after you and Jinyoung had sure that you and The8 were right, you two sended a message to the rest of the team and the operation began. Suddenly the lights went off. With calm and peacefully, you and Jinyoung opened the front door to Jackson and Jaebum, that started to shout commands to the people inside.

“Anyone who isn’t the owner of this place get out. NOW.” At the end, Jaebum shooted one time on the ceiling, just to shock them and make his point. All the clients got up really quick and the restaurant was soon empty, just with two humans being held by Mark and Yugyeom on the center of the room.

“Hello there. What can we do for you?” The bigger man tried to smile besides the pain that Mark was giving him. You nodded to Bambam and signed to Jinyoung to follow you.

“Is there anyone here too?” Jaebum’s voice were strong and intimidating. The humans denied, so he got really close to their face. “Are you sure?” You could see the smaller male shake.

“There are just my hybrids.” He said with such a small voice that you, on the other side of the room, almost didn’t heard. But you all heard, so you and the free boys started to look for any and all hybrid you could.

You couldn’t take the masks off while still with the humans but with a little talk, every hybrid you found was convinced and went near Youngjae, by the door. You were almost done on the search when a little kid grabbed your hand.

“There is one more…” She was 5 or 6 years old, tops. 

“What?” You got down on her level and tried to calm her down.

“There is one more… He is on the last room, the one with chains. We were forbidden to enter there after the master hitted him.” She looked at you almost crying so you hugged her.

“I’ll get them, okay?” She nodded on your shoulder. “Now, go to the others.” With that, she went to the main hall while you looked to the hallway. You still couldn’t see and door with chains, so you started to look with more attention.

Just when you arrived at the end of the hallway you noticed a small door. It took just half of the wall height and was narrow, a big old chain was locking the door, but with some kicks, it was easy to you to break that.

Maybe the humans made the hybrids believe that they couldn’t break it? Anyways, you entered on that room without much problem, since you were a relatively flexible and small human being.

Inside the room, you let your eyes get used to the poor lighting for a moment. Just then you noticed the figure on the center of the small and cold room. The hybrid was naked and you could see more bruises in their body that you could count. That sigh broke your heart…

---

Mingyu was feeling good and bad at the same time. His whole body was aching and his head seemed to be heavier than it should be but at the same time, he could feel that he was in a soft place, soft and warm.

He also seemed to be ready to jump around when he opened his eyes. Mingyu looked around the clear room and noticed that he was on a bed. A real bed. He was feeling the pillow when someone entered the room.

“As I’m saying, (Y/n), he will be fine. All his exams are perfect besides the superficial bruises, his body just needs some time to rest and recover from the shock.” A small girl dressed in all white was saying to another girl.

“I know, Jimin-unnie, but that doesn’t make me any less worried. It has been 4 days already.” Her voice made something in Mingyu awake and before he could think, he was saying:

“Hm… Hello?” His voice sounded strange, dry. But he couldn’t think about that when he met her eyes. She was beautiful. “Hello.”

“You’re awake!” The duo approach his bed in a hurry. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired and aching, but I’m alive…” The girl on colored clothes smiled to him, while the other looked on the machines connected to him.

“It seems that everything is alright.” She turned to her friend. “I’ll look for Jin-oppa to free him before we take him to the pool, okay?” The other nodded while she got out of the room.

“Pool?” Mingyu was confused.

“Well, you are a marine hybrid, nothing more fair than let you recover in a big salt water pool, right?” She smiled to him and Mingyu was unable to respond. “By the way, I’m (Y/n).”

“I’m Mingyu.” He smiled back, happy to finally say his given name to someone.

Tag: @rainbow-pandacorn ; @uwuhoonie ; @warm-smiles-and-blue-skies

[lastbluetardis]

Lost and Found 1/3

Hey hey everyone! @chocolatequeennk and I have put our heads together to write a story! Without further ado, here is our contribution for @doctorroseprompts‘ Soulmates September! Er... We apologize in advance for this chapter <3

Ten x Rose, canon-verse soulmates, teen

A forever together stretched out before the Doctor and Rose, but was cut short when Rose was taken by Torchwood. When their telepathic bond breaks, the Doctor assumes the worst... until one day weeks later when familiar handwriting appears on his arm. Could his soulmate still be alive?

AO3 | FF | TSP

Rose smiled at the Doctor as he helped her jump out of the haycart. “Why thank you, Sir Doctor,” she drawled, hoping to tease a smile from her soulmate. He’d been quiet ever since they’d left Torchwood House, and she couldn’t make sense of the emotions he was projecting over their bond.

He smiled briefly, then waved at the driver. “Cheers, Dougal!” he called out. Then he clasped her hand tightly in his and led the way up the hill.

Their pace was too fast to encourage conversation, so instead, Rose shifted closer to the Doctor and placed her free hand on his arm, just above his wrist. If she could peel back all his layers, she knew she’d see her handwriting there, with the simple, Love you xo, she’d written the day before.

She traced the words over the top of his coat, and the Doctor stopped and pulled her close. “What’s wrong, love?” she whispered.

He sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go home first,” he requested. “I just… I’d really like to sit in our chair and hold you… Please?”

Rose stepped back and straightened his tie. “Of course.”

It only took them a few minutes to climb the remaining distance to the TARDIS and send the ship into the Vortex. After a brief deliberation, they agreed to shower before going to the library, but finally, they were clean, in fresh clothes, and curled up together in the oversized armchair that was the perfect size for cuddling.

They sat together for several long moments, just enjoying the closeness. Then Rose tilted her head back so she could see the Doctor’s face. “Are you ready to tell me what’s bothering you?” He flinched, and she stroked his cheek. “I want to help, love, but I can’t unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Last night…” He took a deep breath. “I could feel how terrified you were last night, Rose. You begged me to come rescue you, but I didn’t know where you were or how to find you.” He laughed mirthlessly and rubbed his hand over his face. “I might have given the monks a taste of the Oncoming Storm when I demanded to know where you were. But oh, god Rose! If I’d been even just a minute later…”

Rose shivered; she’d been trying not to think about that possibility, which probably explained why she hadn’t realised right away what was bothering the Doctor. She pulled him close, encouraging him to shift so his head was resting on her shoulder.

I’m sorry, Doctor, she told him as she ran her fingers through his hair and massaged away the knot at the base of his neck. The telepathic conversation calmed him as well. But you know, even when I was staring down that werewolf thing, I knew you would come for me. You always do.

He huffed something that sounded like disagreement, and she tugged lightly on his hair so he would look at her. “Hey. Yes, you do,” she insisted. “Starting with the day you found me in that basement, even though you didn’t know I was your soulmate until you took my hand.”

The Doctor reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. The cool metal of his ring pressed into Rose’s hand and she pulled his hand up so she could kiss it.

She could tell he wasn’t quite convinced, however, so she continued. “Even when I was on that Dalek ship, you found a way to come get me. You always come for me.”

The Doctor shifted a little bit, then reached up and brushed a strand of hair back over her ear. “And then you came for me,” he reminded her.

Rose smiled. “That’s right. Because I wasn’t about ready to let those oversized pepperpots get in the way of our forever.”

Finally, she felt his anxiety ease. “Sorry, love,” he mumbled into her hair. “I know I’m brooding, but I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

Rose leaned down and kissed him gently. “Well, you’ll never have to find out,” she whispered against his lips.

oOoOo

Waking up the next morning with Rose in his arms did more to soothe what remained of the Doctor’s fear than anything else could have. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek, then slipped out of bed. He chuckled when she immediately scooted over to his side of the bed and cuddled into his pillow.

In the galley, he went to work making a fry-up for breakfast. As soon as it was sizzling on the stove, he grabbed a pen and wrote his usual good morning message for Rose to find when she woke up.

Good morning, love! One more day of forever with you.

Over the bond, he could feel the way the tickling sensation of his message appearing on her arm woke her up. He started the kettle and had tea ready five minutes later when she crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Mmmm, smells delicious,” she mumbled, her voice still sounding sleepy.

The Doctor turned and wrapped his own arms around her, pulling her close. “And it’ll be ready in two minutes, which means I have just enough time to do this,” he said, dipping his head down and pressing his lips to hers. Slow, languorous good morning kisses were among his favourites, and he was determined to start every day like this.

Rose sighed against his mouth and parted her lips, and he deepened the kiss for just a moment before the timer in the back of his mind reminded him that he needed to finish breakfast. He pulled back slowly, tugging her lip with him, then releasing it with a pop. She blinked up at him, and he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip.

“Have a seat, and I’ll bring breakfast to you.”

She nodded and carried the two matching mugs to the table.

The Doctor served up two heaping plates and carried them to the table, setting one down in front of Rose then taking his own chair across from her. “What would you like to do today?” he asked as he slathered jam over his toast.

He felt the unique combination of hesitation and wistfulness she always projected when she was about to suggest something she knew wouldn’t thrill him. When he looked up, she had her hands wrapped around her mug and her lip caught between her teeth.

“Hmmm… Why do I think we’re going to visit the Powell Estate today?” he teased.

His teasing made her hopeful, but she asked anyway. “Is that all right? It’s been more than a month since Christmas.”

He smiled. “Of course it’s all right. We can go as soon as we’re done eating breakfast.”

Rose shook her head and smirked at him. “Maybe we should get dressed first,” she suggested.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “All right, if you want to be picky…”

The banter continued as they ate their breakfast, and Rose was happy his gloomy mood from the day before seemed to be gone. It had taken months when she first travelled with him to get him past his fear of having a human soulmate—“You’re gonna die, Rose, and leave me all alone!”—and she really didn’t want those fears to creep back into their relationship.

Plus, she thought later as she got dressed, we actually have a chance at forever now.

The day after Christmas, the Doctor had insisted on running extensive scans to make sure Bad Wolf hadn’t had any lingering effects on her. To their surprise, there were side effects, but not of the sort he was afraid of. Her body seemed to be changing, becoming more durable and resilient. It was too early to tell yet what it meant, but the Doctor’s voice had trembled with excitement as he told her that if the changes were allowed to progress, it was possible her lifespan would be extended significantly.

Rose took one last look at her reflection and nodded in satisfaction. She’d chosen her black trousers and blue cardigan purposely. Despite the fact that she’d left home almost a year and a half ago and had been bonded to her soulmate for close to a year, her mum still didn’t seem able to see her as an adult. But maybe if she looked like an adult...

I’ve got the coordinates set, Rose, whenever you’re ready.

She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. On my way, Doctor.

A moment later, she felt the ship leave the Vortex. They landed just as she reached the console room, and she held onto the railing to keep from falling.

The Doctor grinned up at her, then jogged up the ramp and pushed the door open. “Come on, let’s go see how Jackie is doing.”  

Rose laughed and joined him outside, blinking up into the pale winter sun. “I forgot it was February,” she said, shivering and rubbing vigorously at her arms.

“Do you want to get your coat?” the Doctor offered.

Rose shook her head. “Nah, it’s only a short walk inside.” She took his hand and they started for Bucknall House.

But as they reached the edge of the playground, she remembered something else. “Oh, bugger,” she muttered. “I had a gift for Mum—that weather predictor thingy?” she reminded the Doctor when he looked at her blankly.

“Oh, right! Bazoolium!”

Rose sighed. “You go on ahead,” she told him. “I’ll run back and get it and meet you in the flat.”

The Doctor smiled, then bent down to kiss her quickly. “All right, but don’t leave me alone with your mum for too long.”

Rose rolled her eyes and pushed him away. “Oh, you love her and you know it.”

The Doctor walked backwards a few steps, waving goodbye. I love you.

He continued onwards, meandering slowly into Bucknall House and up the stairs, dawdling to keep from being alone with Jackie longer than necessary. But inevitably, he arrived at flat number forty-eight, and he raised his hand to rap his knuckles against the door.

He heard shuffling behind the door just moments before it swung open. Jackie appraised him for a minute, running her eye up and down him, before she asked, “Where’s Rose, then?”

“Hello to you too, Jackie,” the Doctor said drily, stepping past his mother-in-law and into the flat. “She’s on her way. Just forgot something in the TARDIS.”

The Doctor made his way to the kitchen to start the kettle for tea, knowing Rose would be chilled when she finally made it up to the flat.

“Want one?” he asked Jackie as he opened the cupboard for mugs.

He had already pulled down the mugs he and Rose always used when they visited, and at Jackie’s nod, he grabbed her favourite mug, too.

The kettle beeped and Rose still wasn’t there.

I thought I said to not leave me alone with your mum for too long, he teased, fixing up her tea just as she liked it.

I had a bit of trouble finding the Bazoolium, she answered. We really ought to do a bit of tidying when we get home. Anyway, got it now. I’ll see you in a minute. Can you make me a cuppa?

Already waiting for you.

“Still completely wrapped up in each other, I see?”

Jackie’s voice sounded right behind him, causing the Doctor to jump and splatter a bit of milk on the counter.

“Would you prefer me to be indifferent to my wife?” he asked, sniffing.

Despite her long-suffering sigh, the Doctor could see the fondness in the smile Jackie was trying to suppress.

The Doctor scooped up his and Rose’s cups of tea to bring to the living room, but before he could take a step, a swell of fear crossed the bond, followed immediately by silence. The mugs slipped from his numb fingers, and they crashed to the floor in a spray of ceramic and hot tea.

He was vaguely aware that Jackie was yelling at him about the mess he’d made, but the Doctor paid no mind to her, not when there was a terrifying silence from his bondmate. He turned and sprinted out of the flat, desperate to get to Rose and find out what had happened to her.

Rose? he asked, frantically prodding at her side of the bond as he raced down the stairs, nearly leaping from landing to landing. Rose! What’s happened? Talk to me, love, please!

But still there was nothing, and the Doctor pumped his arms and legs harder and faster as he flew across the playground and back to where he’d parked the TARDIS. The street was empty, except for their ship. It was a thoroughly ordinary day, except it wasn’t, because Rose wasn’t there. Her half of the bond was eerily quiet, like she was asleep, but the Doctor knew she wasn’t asleep.

“Rose!” he screamed, surveying the street. “Rose!”

He continued shouting her name as he tried to wake her up across their bond, but she remained resolutely unaware of him.

His foot knocked into something, and he glanced down at the little golden weather divinator. The sight made a lump well up in his throat. This was what Rose had gone back for. This was what had caused her to be alone and vulnerable to an attack. He picked it up and cradled it delicately in his palms, and the metal was warm against his hands as the sun shone brightly overhead despite the February chill.

The rapid patter of running feet caught his attention, and he looked up, hoping to see Rose, but it was just Jackie.

“What’s going on? What happened?” she asked breathlessly. “Where’s Rose gone?”

“I don’t know,” he said helplessly, running his thumb across the Bazoolium.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jackie asked harshly.

The Doctor raked his hands through his hair as he whirled around wildly, scanning their surroundings as he foolishly hoped Rose would reappear in his mind and walk out of the bushes.

“Where’s Rose?” Jackie repeated, her voice going high with impending hysteria. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know!” the Doctor exploded. “I don’t know where she is! She’s gone! She must have been taken!”

“Taken? By who?”

“I don’t know,” the Doctor growled again, hating those words.

“Well, don’t just stand there! Find her!”

Find her.

The words prodded the Doctor out of his shock-induced inertia. He nodded once. “Find her. Yes. Right.” He spun around to the TARDIS and unlocked the door.

To his surprise, Jackie followed him inside. “Jackie… no, no, you need to go back to the flat,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and pushing her gently towards the door.

But of course, you couldn’t gently direct a Prentice woman to do anything she didn’t want to do. Jackie dug in her heels and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going anywhere until you find my daughter!”

The Doctor opened his mouth to shout at her, then an image of Rose’s disapproving frown flashed through his mind. He swallowed back the angry words and counted to ten.

Then he took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye. “Jackie, I need to be able to concentrate if I’m going to find Rose,” he said, keeping his voice as even as possible. “And I know you’ll say you won’t distract me, but do you really think our habit of picking at each other wouldn’t be distracting?”

Tears welled up in Jackie’s blue eyes, and the Doctor felt a stab of panic at the idea of comforting his mother-in-law. Then she blinked a few times and nodded at him.

“But you listen to me, Doctor,” she said, poking her finger at his chest. “I expect you to tell me as soon as you find her. And if you have to take off to go get her, you let me know first! I don’t want to look out my window and realise the both of you are gone.”

The Doctor sighed in relief. “Agreed. Now please, let me get to work!”

Jackie turned to leave, then surprised him by whirling back around and giving him a fierce hug. “You’ll find her, Doctor. I know you will,” she whispered before leaving the ship and slamming the door behind her.

The Doctor rested his palms on the doors to the TARDIS. Just a few minutes ago, Rose had been standing right there, thinking she was off to have tea with her mum.

He finally became aware of his ship’s low, apologetic hum.

“Why didn’t you lock the doors?” he growled to his ship. “Eh? You had to know what was waiting for her outside! Why didn’t you keep her safe?!”

He moved himself from the doorway and to the console, where he angrily pulled up the TARDIS’ CCTV feed, and his hearts leapt into his throat when he saw his soulmate wandering out of the TARDIS, utterly carefree. She tugged the doors closed behind her, and tossed up the Bazoolium and caught it again in her palm.

From out of the camera’s periphery came a large, human-looking male dressed in a military-esque uniform. The Doctor growled as the man’s arms wrapped around Rose, and he stuck a syringe in her neck. She went limp in his arms, then in a flash of light, they were gone. Teleported away.

“No, no, no,” he begged, rewinding the tape to watch it again. It was just as painful the second time around to watch Rose leave their home with a smile on her face and a bounce in her step, and then to get knocked unconscious mere seconds later.

Three seconds, actually. Three seconds were all it had taken for the Doctor’s world to completely collapse around him, and he watched again as Rose and her captor teleported away.

Not human, then. He added that to the list of things he knew about Rose’s abductors. Humans didn’t have teleportation technology. A hard knot lodged itself in his stomach. Non-human kidnappers. They could have taken her anywhere—literally, anywhere—and he had no idea how to track her down.

Again and again he watched the CCTV, hoping to find a clue to help identify the species that had taken Rose, or, more importantly, to figure out where they might have taken her. But there was nothing. Her captor look human, but that didn’t mean they weren’t using some sort of cloaking device to make them appear human. There were no markings or logos on the man’s uniform, either. There was absolutely nothing that could help him.

Well, there was something…

The Doctor moved across the console to pilot the TARDIS back to when Rose was taken. He wouldn’t fail her this time.

However, he found the piloting controls were locked. “Stop that!” he growled at his ship. “I need to get to Rose.”

But the ship remained resolutely grounded, and the Doctor slammed his hands down on the console in anger and helplessness.

He should’ve been there with Rose. He should’ve gone back to the TARDIS with her. He should have stopped her from being taken.

The Doctor yanked painfully on his hair as he sank onto the jump seat and allowed himself to succumb to his terror and his grief until Rose returned in his mind and could help him find her and bring her home.

oOoOo

Rose awoke slowly and groggily. A dull ache seemed to throb throughout her body and her head felt stuffed with cotton, not unlike waking up with a hangover.

Rose!

She winced as the Doctor shouted in her head. His fear pulsed across their bond, making her temples pound more than they already were.

Rose, where are you? Are you all right? What happened? Are you all right?

I’m fine, she answered, and when she moved to sit up and take stock of her surroundings, she found her wrists and ankles were tethered to a bed.

Well, she amended, I seem to be strapped to a bed.

Anger was added to his fear, and the bombardment of unchecked emotion was beginning to make her nauseous. He must have sensed it, because he shot her a quick apology before he forced his emotions to the side in favor of comforting her.

She reached through their bond and pulled him into a mental embrace as well, offering the comfort she knew he needed.

I’ve been so scared, Rose, he admitted, and she sighed when an echo of a kiss was passed across their bond.

How long have I been out?

Just over an hour, he said. Do you know where you are?

Rose looked around. She was in what resembled a hospital room. It smelled like antiseptic and there were many different machines and instruments, not unlike those in the TARDIS med bay. Rose frowned. Almost everything in the TARDIS’ med bay was of alien origin…

Her heart sank.

What? What is it?

I don’t think I’m on Earth, Rose sighed, focusing to send him everything she was seeing.

No, I hadn’t thought so either. Whoever took you teleported away with you.

How’d you know that?

I saw it on the TARDIS’ CCTV, he admitted, and Rose could feel his agony and helplessness resurfacing.

I’m sorry you had to watch that, Doctor, she murmured, cradling his mind close to hers. It’ll be all right. We’ll figure this out. You’ll find a way to bring me home.

Rose was abruptly pulled out of her conversation with her husband when the door banged open. In walked a middle-aged blonde woman dressed smartly in a black blazer and a black skirt with the air of authority exuding off of her. Rose immediately went on the defense, and she felt the Doctor’s anger reappear.

“Who are you?” Rose demanded, pleased that her voice remained steady. “What do you want with me. I’ll have you know, I’ve got people looking for me, and when they find you…”

“The Doctor, you mean?” the woman prompted.

Rose stopped short.

“How do you know about the Doctor?” she asked.

The woman rolled her eyes. “The Doctor is the reason you’re here. We’ve been watching you, Rose Tyler. We’ve been watching you for awhile now, ever since you began traveling with the Doctor.”

“What for?” Rose asked, feeling a little ill at the idea that someone had been stalking her and the Doctor.

“Because you’re not human anymore,” the woman answered. “Not really.”

A cold knot lodged itself in Rose’s gut.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rose whispered, but that sounded unconvincing even to her own ears.

The woman seemed to agree, and she smirked as she walked up to a computer at Rose’s bedside. She began clacking away at the keyboard, and meanwhile Rose fidgeted against her restraints.

“D’you mind letting me up,” she asked, tugging at her wrists.

“I’m afraid not,” the woman said. “We know you’re the Doctor’s soulmate and we really can’t have you writing to him and telling him all about us.”

Confusion swelled through Rose. It sounded like this woman didn’t know she and the Doctor shared a telepathic bond…

What? What is it? What’d she say?

Shh, Rose chastised, and she turned her attention back to the woman while trying to ignore the Doctor’s impatience.

“This is why you’re here.”

Rose looked over at the computer and saw data similar to her medical file on the TARDIS.

“We’ve been scanning you since you’ve begun travelling with the Doctor,” the woman said before Rose could ask. “We’ve kept an eye on all of his companions, actually, and we’ve finally got our proof.”

“Proof of what?” Rose asked.

“That the Doctor has been experimenting on his human companions,” the woman said matter-of-factly. “You were completely human until you began travelling with the Doctor. More specifically, until Christmastime.”

Rose blinked, then couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, her voice flat.

“Dead serious.”

“The Doctor wouldn’t… he would never…” Rose spluttered for a moment in defense of her husband, before she challenged, “Why would the Doctor experiment on his friends?”

The woman shrugged. “Does it matter? You are proof enough that the Doctor is dangerous, and a threat to humankind.” She gestured to the computer screen. “Your physiology has changed, Rose. Sometime between last spring and now, your body has been augmented in a way that, to be blunt, is not possible with Earth technology. The Doctor has meddled with your DNA, changing the very building blocks of what it means to be human. That is inexcusable… but as long as the deed is done, we plan to study you to learn exactly what he did.”

The pit of dread hardened in her stomach the longer this woman talked. Who was she? How did she know so much? How did she have the technology to be able to detect the changes to her physiology? Why did this lady even care that her physiology had changed?

By the time the woman left, the Doctor’s impatience echoed in Rose’s mind. Now that they were alone, she told him everything the woman had said, hoping that he would have some kind of insight into why an alien organisation would care about the changes in her physiology.

Have you ever heard of anything like this, Doctor?

An intergalactic association that objects to the augmentation of human physiology? No, never. I mean… maybe the Shadow Proclamation? But teleporting you away like that isn’t really their style. But believe me, they will be the first place I go to. Because I promise you, Rose, I will find you. I will.

I know you will, she soothed, sending a caress over the bond before she tuned back in to her surroundings when the door opened.

The woman was back, but this time she was accompanied by a humanoid male in a pristine white lab coat.

“A detailed full-body scan to begin with, I think,” the woman instructed. “I want to see exactly what we’re up against.”

The woman left again, leaving Rose alone with this man.

She tensed her body as he approached her with a syringe, but she refused to show him fear. Instead, she closed her eyes and melted into the Doctor’s ready embrace as she ignored the pinch of the needle and the odd sensation of being given an injection.

I’m so sorry, love, he whispered as the man wheeled Rose’s bed into a cylindrical chamber.

It’s not your fault, she said fiercely, tuning out the mechanical whirring. None of this is your fault.

Were you not listening to what that woman was saying? he retorted. The only reason you’re there is because they think I’ve done something to you. If it weren’t for me…

Doctor, please, Rose begged. Stop it. Just stop it. This isn’t your fault, and I don’t blame you, but I’m really exhausted and not in the mood to convince you of that right now. Please, can’t we just have a cuddle and can you just tell me everything will be all right?

His overwhelming guilt faded into the background as he infused love, comfort, and support through their bond. She sighed and relaxed into the peaceful sensations as she tried to block out her current predicament as best she could in favor of being with her bondmate.

oOoOo

Rose was thoroughly exhausted by the time the tests were finished. Any patience she may have had was long gone. She tried to sleep, but her constant state of discomfort made it almost impossible.

And on top of it all, the Doctor’s increasing levels of agitation were spurring her own anxiety on. One of the downsides they had discovered in sharing a telepathic bond was the way their negative emotions fed off each other.

Rose took a deep breath, trying to get a handle on the panic she could feel building. The Doctor sensed her deteriorating mental state and made an effort to control his own anger.

I'm sorry, he told her. I just hate knowing you're in danger and I can't do anything until my scans find you. And do you know how long it takes to scan for one human across the entire universe?

Are we absolutely sure I’m not still on Earth, though? Rose asked. These people look human. And they’ve got British accents.

Loads of species look human, the Doctor said. And the TARDIS’ translation matrices tend to translate to English in the accent you’re used to hearing.

Rose huffed out a breath, and when she caught the Doctor’s guilt, she sighed.

I’m sorry, she said softly. I know you’re trying your best to find me. I just… I miss you so much.

I miss you, too, love, he whispered, pressing a kiss through their bond.

Rose groaned when the doors to her prison re-opened, and in walked the still-nameless woman.

“We’ve discovered something rather unique during the scan of your brain,” the woman said without preamble. “You’re telepathic.”

“Oh, well that must be how I could have a telepathic bond with my soulmate, then,” Rose said scathingly. “I always wondered how that could happen.”

Rose felt a sharp plea from the Doctor to be careful, but she shut him away, needing to concentrate on this woman.

“A telepathic bond,” the woman repeated, looking thoughtful. “Interesting.”

The woman turned on her heel, and Rose finally tuned back in to the impatience the Doctor was projecting.

What happened now? he demanded.

They know I’m telepathic, Rose answered. And that we have a bond.

The Doctor’s unease flooded through her.

Look, just focus on finding me, yeah? Rose said shortly. I can handle these people.

I know you can, the Doctor said immediately. But I don’t like the idea that they know about our bond.

It’ll be fine, Rose said through a yawn. It’s late. I’m tired. I’ll talk to you later, Doctor.

I love you, he murmured, curling his mind around hers to make Rose feel like they were cuddling in bed together.

Love you, too, she whispered.

But before she could drift to sleep, the door to the lab opened again.

“Now what?” Rose growled.

The woman and the man who had performed all of Rose’s earlier exams stepped into the room.

“A telepathic bond means you’ve been in contact with the Doctor this whole time,” the woman stated.

“Yes, and he’s bloody furious at you lot for taking me and keeping me locked up like a lab rat,” Rose snapped. “He’s looking for me, and he’s going to find me, and when he does, you’re going to be sorry you ever took me.”

The woman ignored her, and she and the man stepped up to Rose’s bedside. The man was holding a syringe filled with a clear, colorless liquid.

“Another test?” Rose asked incredulously. “Really? Can’t you let me get some sleep?”

“We will,” the woman said. “After this injection, we won’t bother you ‘til morning. Promise.”

That did nothing to calm Rose’s sudden anxiety.

“But in light of your telepathy, there’s something special we need to do,” the woman said.

“What’s that stuff?” Rose asked uneasily, and she tried to calm the Doctor when he caught on to her increasing panic.

“A neuron-neutraliser,” the woman replied as the orderly stuck the needle into the crease of Rose’s elbow. “Telepathic species have their own type of neurons and neurotransmitters. This serum inhibits the receptors for those neurotransmitters.”

Dread flooded through Rose as her arm ached with the injection of the serum, and before she could reach out to the Doctor and tell him what was happening, excruciating pain split through her skull. She thrashed on her bed, tugging wildly to free her hands so she could grab her head to try to alleviate some of the pain. It felt like someone had stabbed a long, cold piece of metal through one temple and out the other. It was pain worse than she had ever felt in her life, and she would give anything for it to go away.

It took a minute before Rose realized the Doctor wasn’t trying to soothe her or ask what was wrong. In fact, the Doctor wasn’t anywhere in her mind.

“No, no, no,” she moaned as she frantically looked for her bondmate. She tried to concentrate through the pain to look inside her mind for their bond, but she barely got a good look at it before the pain overwhelmed her.

“What have you done?” Rose gasped, swallowing down the nausea that threatened. “Bring him back! Bring him back!”

“You will be given these injections every evening,” the woman said as though Rose hadn’t spoken. “Tomorrow we’ll do a scan of your brain again. I’ll be interested to see the effects of this serum on your brain; we’ve never given it to someone with a marriage bond before.”

“Piss off!” Rose snarled, and she continued writhing on the bed. She arched her back and dug her head into the mattress, desperate for some relief from the endless agony.

Rose barely heard the opening and closing of the door. She wasn’t aware of anything other than her broken bond with the Doctor.

She whimpered as she curled in on herself as best she could, and continued looking for her bondmate. Prodding at the raw, jagged edges of their bond sent sharper stabs of pain through Rose until she welcomed the unconsciousness that threatened.

oOoOo

The Doctor stared at the monitor on the TARDIS console and willed the ship to work faster. Being forced to stand helplessly by while Rose was subjected to a whole battery of medical exams was one of the most torturous experiences of his long life. He had scans of his own going—one tracking the teleport signal and one looking for her DNA—but searching the entire universe for one mostly-human woman was like looking for a needle in the largest haystack imaginable.

He managed to keep his agitation under control while the tests were being run, because he had a purpose. Rose had asked him to just be there for her. She was putting on a brave face, but as soon as he sensed how upset she was, he set aside his own fears and wrapped her in a telepathic embrace.

But when the medical personnel left the room, his ability to stay calm went with them. Just last night, Rose had told him that he always came for her, but what if this turned out to be the time he didn’t? He’d always known he would fail her one day—what if today was that day?

After a few minutes, he felt panic licking at the edges of Rose’s mind and realised his gloomy ponderings weren’t helping anything.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his tired eyes. I'm sorry, he told her. I just hate knowing you're in danger and I can't do anything until my scans find you. And do you know how long it takes to scan for one human across the entire universe?

Are we absolutely sure I’m not still on Earth, though? Rose asked. These people look human. And they’ve got British accents.

The Doctor hated to dampen her hope, but he had to be realistic. Loads of species look human, he reminded her. And the TARDIS’ translation matrices tend to translate to English in the accent you’re used to hearing.

That answer was obviously not what she’d been hoping for, and her impatient frustration hit him like an accusation. The Doctor closed his eyes and sank onto the jump seat. She needed him, and so far, he’d failed her.

A moment later, her aggravation eased and she brushed an apologetic touch over the bond. I’m sorry, she said softly. I know you’re trying your best to find me. I just… I miss you so much.

The Doctor swallowed hard; that was one sentiment he could easily agree with. I miss you, too, love.

He pulled her mind close and kissed her softly, but before they could settle into a telepathic embrace, the calm that had finally been washing over Rose sharpened into anger.

The Doctor stiffened; her captors must be back. He clenched his fists and rested them on his knees until he could tell Rose was alone again, then he immediately fired a question at her. What happened now?

They know I’m telepathic. And that we have a bond.

The Doctor pressed his lips into a thin line. He wasn’t surprised the scans they’d done on Rose had picked up the neurological markers that indicated telepathy. But it was quite a leap from that fact to knowing he and Rose shared a telepathic bond.

He had a feeling he knew how they’d found out about that. Rose had been tired and frustrated when her captors had returned just as she was feeling better, and she was less careful with her words when she was tired. He could easily imagine a frustrated Rose snarking back at the woman that telepathy must be how she could have a telepathic bond.

A moment later, Rose’s attitude turned defiant, and he knew he was right. It took a great deal of restraint to not voice his displeasure with that—it would have been so much better if they could have kept the bond from these people.

His mood seeped over the bond, though, and Rose replied to it immediately. Look, just focus on finding me, yeah? she requested. I can handle these people.

The Doctor raked a hand through his hair. I know you can. But I don’t like the idea that these people know about our bond.

It’ll be fine, Rose said, her words coming slower as she started to fall asleep. It’s late. I’m tired. I’ll talk to you later, Doctor.

The Doctor closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the jump seat. He took a moment to imagine exactly how it felt to hold Rose close in their bed, the big spoon to her little spoon. Then he projected that sensation to her, and a moment later, he felt phantom fingers lace through his as his imaginary hand rested on her stomach.

I love you, he told his bond mate.

She sighed and kissed his fingers. Love you, too.

Alone in the TARDIS, the Doctor got to his feet and wandered over to the console, intent on checking on the scans. But before he reached the monitor, Rose’s sleepiness disappeared, replaced by anger. He could guess what had happened—one of her captors had returned.

A captor who knew that Rose was telepathic.

He tried to sneak closer to Rose’s mind so he could eavesdrop on the conversation, but she immediately pushed him away. He scowled, but understood her reasons—it was hard to focus on what was actually going on around you if you were in the middle of a telepathic conversation.

So he pulled back and waited. Rose would tell him what had happened when the woman left.

He bared his teeth and growled. He bloody hated this—hated being relegated to the sidelines while Rose engaged in verbal fencing with her captor. He could follow along with the sense of the conversation, based on Rose’s fluctuating mood, but he wouldn’t know exactly what had been said until Rose was alone again and could share it with him.

After a few minutes, her anxiety spiked. The Doctor froze in the mid-step, and his foot landed heavily on the grating.

Rose? What’s wrong, love? What’s going on?

He only had to wait a few moments for the reply, but it didn’t come in words. Instead, it came in the form of slicing pain cutting through his mind—pain he had experienced once before in his life when he had pushed that button and the presence of the Time Lords had left his mind in the blink of an eye.

Rose was gone.

“No!” The Doctor grabbed onto the console to keep from falling to his knees.

He could still feel where the marriage bond should be in his mind, and he prodded at the spot, hoping against hope that Rose’s captors had only done something to her that felt like their bond was severed.

Rose? Please, love. Talk to me. Tell me you’re still there!

He clenched his eyes shut and leaned hard on the console as he waited for her reply. As the seconds ticked by, the pain in his head worsened. Gasps of pain escaped his lips as tears trickled out from under his closed eyelids.

“Please,” he moaned brokenly. “Please come back.”

The only response was the TARDIS’ mournful hum. Rose was gone. She would never come back.

[lightshadowverisimilitude]

Responsible Adults and Lab Safety Protocols 1/3

For my bingo square “sex pollen.” Challenger @miss-kitty-fantastico

Watch the cut!

All in all, Tony was disappointed. With rumors of a super thinktank trying to combine all the worst aspects of sodium pentothal, E, and alcohol, Tony had expected more. They’d been hard to find, he’d give them that – as in digitally hard to find. Out in the non-digital world, they were operating out of a strip mall on the main thoroughfare in a tiny township in Minnesota unfortunately named Embarrass.

Since the Avengers trooping through Small Town, Anywhere tended to call a lot of attention, they’d driven from Duluth in a rental van. By the time they pulled into the cramped parking lot, Tony was ready to put a stylus through Clint’s eye. If he had to hear one more chorus of “99 bottles of beer on the wall/ Shoot one down, it shatters on the ground,” ad infinitum, he was going to throttle someone. Since they were mere yards away from a bad guy he could theoretically throttle, he didn’t try too hard to suppress the urge. Nat and Steve had both fallen asleep in the middle row almost as soon as they doors had shut, because they had that whole ‘can sleep anywhere’ thing in common. Sam had earbuds stuffed into his ears, though Tony’s had mysteriously disappeared out of his bag. He felt an acute sense of betrayal.

“Karmic pay back,” Rhodey said, climbing out of the driver’s seat. “Do you remember that trip from Boston to New York your sophomore year?” He smiled sweetly and held out a twenty. Clint snatched it out of his fingers and blew Tony a kiss on his way past, surreptitiously rubbing his jaw.

“It’s not karma if you interfere,” Tony said, but he was secretly impressed. Putting up with three complete rounds of the beer song just to get Tony back for an unfortunate road trip two decades after the fact was dedication.

Rhodey shrugged. “What can I say? Sometimes karma happens to you. Sometimes you’re the karma that happens to someone else.”

“I’m going to remember this,” Tony warned him, snugging his baseball cap down further over his eyes. He guessed that as far as ‘We’re tourists, just passing through,’ disguises went, they probably wouldn’t pass muster for long. He checked his phone, and then looked up. According to his scan, nothing in the area had so much as security camera to its name.

The smallest space on the end of the strip didn’t even have proper signage. When they drew closer, he saw that a set of letters had been frosted onto the glass in what was probably 12-pt font. Dionysus Labs. Original.

Steve, annoyingly alert after his ninety-odd minute nap, casually pulled the door open, and then stuck his foot in front of it and gestured everyone else through. Tony kept his phone up, sweeping the area with infrared as he went. He’d done a satellite pass over the area less than an hour before, and there had only been two heat signatures in the building. He wasn’t surprised to see the same two human-shaped blobs on the other side of the back wall. In two weeks of monitoring, he’d never seen more than two human-shaped blobs.

The reception area was a closet-sized space that they crowded to capacity. It was complete with ugly industrial carpet, three folding chairs under a painting of a lake that might have been stolen from a motel, and a reception desk about the size of a podium. It was empty of even a bored receptionist, which made sense, since there didn’t even appear to be a phone. Rhodey leaned around the desk, feeling underneath the shelves for a weapon, and then shook his head.

Nat put her back to the cheap plywood wood and waited for Clint to give her a nod. She flicked the door knob, and pushed the door sharply inward. It banged against the opposite wall, though the sound was almost drowned out by the startled shouts from within. Clint ran in with his sidearm drawn, leading Steve, Sam, and Rhodey after him. Tony stayed in the waiting room and kept an eye on his screens. Nothing was putting off any troubling energy, and the floor seemed quite solid.

Steve stuck his head back out the door. His lips were twisted in a bemused grimace. “It’s clear,” he said, gesturing Tony in with a twitch of his fingers.

“I am disappointed,” Tony said, following him in. “I was going to be disappointed anyway, but I assumed there would be something for me to do.” The only reason he hadn’t trundled in with the rest of them was that he’d thought a high-budget operation like this one had to be hiding a few nasty tech surprises under their very mundane exterior.

(keep reading)

The room beyond was… a lab. It had been outfitted with metal tables that were stacked with the usual medical lab detritus. Half of the space had been converted into a sterile room, and a ventilation hood took up most of the real estate in the opposite corner. The eye wash station and chemical shower had clearly posted instructions and warnings, and there was a red lab safety handbook on the shelf backed with OSHA posters and cheesy I Am Safe! Graphics of a pencil figure in a hardhat giving the thumbs up. There was a picture of a chambered nautilus on one cabinet, the Milky Way galaxy next to it, and a boxy spiral across the room. Sam was in the process of taking down an enlarged poster of Dr. Foster’s most recent appearance in Reviews of Modern Physics. Thor would have never forgiven them for leaving it.

“Wow. Now I’m… Now I’m just depressed,” Tony decided. Two youngish men in lab coats had already been handcuffed and were slumped in lab stools, still wearing their eye protection. “I mean… I approve of your lab safety, with the exception of the paper thin door that anyone with reasonable hand-eye coordination and baseball bat could get through, but. Wow.”

One of the men sighed dejectedly. He was wearing a plaid shirt with a no-kidding pocket protector. Tony couldn’t decide if he was wearing it with his expensive, tailored khakis as nerd-chic or not. “We were finally getting results,” he mourned.

“We were going to be so rich,” the other added. “I was going to go to Tahiti.”

Tony exchanged a baffled look with Rhodey, who only shrugged.

“We have got to get a better class of supervillain,” Sam said.

Pocket Protector perked up. “Supervillain? Think they’ll write a book about us?”

Rolling his eyes, Sam dropped a heavy hand to the back of the guy’s neck to propel him out of the stool. “No.”

Natasha grabbed the other Supervillain Hopeful by the arm and gave him one of those really creepy Russian doll smiles. “You and I need to talk,” she said.

The guy looked pretty happy with that idea. Tony guessed that they’d have an itemized list of the entire chain of operations by the time the van made it back to Duluth.

“We’ll take these two back in the van,” Sam said, giving his captive a squeeze on the back of the neck that made the man bunch his shoulders up like a cartoon turtle. “Quinjet should be here to help you transport all this…” he waved a hand around the orderly lab with a grimace. “Stuff.”

Tony tossed him a salute and opened an app. He hummed as he tapped away at the commands while Clint, Nat, and Sam lead their docile captives out of the door. Satisfied with the results, he pointed the infrared at the floor to look for a secret lair, occasionally stamping on the floor in likely places.

“This is absurd,” he decided finally. “There is really… nothing. It took us two months to find this place.”

“Well,” Steve ventured, “it did keep them under the radar for more than a year. There’s something to be said about low-tech when you’re going up against Iron Man.” He was thumbing through a binder of pages in sheet protectors, so he didn’t see Tony preening. Tony could just barely make out the words ‘Employee Handbook’ between Steve’s fingers. He shook the binder slightly and held up a page. “They had a 401k plan, and health benefits. They get more vacation days than I do!”

Rhodey snorted. “Guess we’re in the wrong line of work.” He was crouched down beside the transparent door of the sterile room. Tapping one knuckle on the Plexiglas, he noted, “This is more like what I expected to find here. This is four inches thick and bullet proof.”

“Ooo,” Tony said, hurrying around the central table to Rhodey’s side. “Boobie trapped?”

Before Rhodey could answer, his phone went off. He settled back on his heels to answer it, and then instantly jerked the phone away from his ear. ‘Achy Breaky Heart’ played loudly in the background and Clint shouted, “I’m never letting you pay me for favors ever again!”

Tony grabbed Rhodey’s wrist to get at the phone. “If he’s paying you for it, it’s not a favor.”

“Fuck you so hard, Stark!” Clint shouted over the chorus. Tony could hear other voices shouting in the background, and then the van’s sliding door opened. It slammed shut a second later, cutting off the caterwauling of Billy Ray Cyrus and the dismayed shouts of the two unfortunate prisoners. “It better turn off,” he huffed into the phone.

Tony shrugged. “Eh.” He loved high-tech cars with their very hackable computers.

Groaning, Clint said, “Do not pull me into whatever weird prank game you have going with Rhodes, Stark, I swear you’ll regret it.”

Tony fluttered his eyelashes at Rhodey. “Hey, blame Rhodey. He’s the one who got you into this.”

Leaning on Tony’s shoulders, Steve grabbed Rhodey’s arm just under Tony’s grip and pulled up. Rhodey scowled, and Steve ignored him. “Just leave those two locked in the car for a few minutes, and then send Nat after them.”

“Torture tactics? From Captain America?” Clint gasped. “I am shocked. Shocked and severely disappointed.”

“Pleasure to be of service,” Steve said warmly, and then released Rhodey’s arm and levered himself back up without even using Tony’s shoulder for balance. That kind of core muscle response was absolutely not fair. Before Tony could say as much, Steve’s Running Man ringtone went off. He stepped away to put it to his ear.

“Sam -… I’m sure it will turn off eventually,” he said, laughing. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. Well, it’s your life.” He covered the mouthpiece with one hand and leaned over to ask, “You are going to turn that off when they start traveling, right?”

Tony made a vague sound, already more invested in the keypad to get into the sterile room than Clint’s comeuppance. He could feel Rhodey’s eyes on the side of his face and guessed that there was a pre-emptive retaliatory prank already in the works in case Tony had something in mind for him. Tony was going to let him stew in it for a while.

Snagging Rhodey’s wrist again, Tony said, “Hey – stick your head back in the van and say ‘one, one, two’ please.”

“Oh, please, is it?” Clint grumbled, but the vague thumping of music grew louder. “Hey, asswipes! One, one, two,” he shouted over the music. The car door slammed, cutting Billy Ray off at ‘- And if you tell my –‘ “I’m not telling you what he said until you promise to turn that off.”

“I promise I’ll turn it off,” Tony said, pointedly not including when.

“He said, ‘three.’ Mean anything to you?”

Tony hummed, but Rhodey was already keying in the sequence before he could say a word. The door popped open with a hiss. Tony groaned. “Why? I am so..! Two months.”

Steve looked in between them, confused. He frowned at the open door. “What just happened here?”

Rhodey waved vaguely toward the posters of spirals dotted around the room between safety posters. “Zero-one-one-two-three-five. Fibonacci sequence. I am embarrassed for these guys.”

“They sure picked some good real estate then,” Steve said with a grin. He bent over to open a lower cabinet, his face briefly appearing somewhere around his knees. He saw Tony watching him and winked, mouth stretching into a devilish smile.

“I see what you’re doing,” Tony told him, just so he didn’t think he was getting away with it.

“I do not,” Rhodey said, “but whatever it is, stop.”

Steve chuckled and bent his knees, folding smoothly into a crouch. He started pulling out boxes of pipettes, shaking each of them like they were Christmas presents. Tony finally yanked his eyes away from the motion of Steve’s shoulders and followed Rhodey into the sterile room. A row of incubators were on against one wall, the shadow of petri dishes visible behind the dark glass. On the opposite wall was another ventilation hood, and the center of the room was taken up by a workspace and a bank of computers. He glanced up to see five industrial ventilation units in the ceiling – for the size of the room, he would have expected only one, or two. He frowned. Between the heavy-duty sterile room and the ventilation, they must have made a lot of progress over the latest version of the compound they’d encountered.

Rhodey was already taking pictures of the setup, so Tony perched on a lab stool and jiggled the mouse until the computer woke up. The username had been saved, so he tried the Fibonacci sequence again, and then a few others. At least they were a bit smarter with their computer security – not smart enough to keep him out of the system, but smarter than they had been with any other aspect of the operation.

“You know,” Rhodey said, snapping a picture of the incubators, “If it was this difficult to find the lab jockeys, figuring out who bank rolled them is going to be a pain in the ass.” He turned a circle, frowning at the sterile room. “Where are the rats?”

Tony plugged into the computer tower and then looked around again, himself. “Huh.” He frowned. He would have expected a whole wall of test subjects. Shivers skittered down his spine. “They’re either testing offsite…”

“Or they’re not testing on animals,” Rhodey finished for him.

The lock screen vanished and Tony dropped his head into his hand with a helpless laugh. Rhodey came over to stand behind him. He rested one hand on Tony’s shoulder and leaned down to look over the last document their intrepid chemists had been working on.

“… They were testing it on themselves?” Rhodey said incredulously. He reached over Tony’s shoulder to click through the open tabs at the bottom. One was an Amazon page displaying search results for ‘soft stuff,’ two were lab results that they both looked over quickly, but neither of them were chemists. Bruce would have to do the heavy lifting on those. The last tab was a video dated the evening before. Rhodey’s hand curled away from the mouse, and then reluctantly pushed play.

Pocket Protector sat in front of the camera in a hotel room, looking stoned out of his mind. His mouth was reddened from either a lot of rough kisses or an allergic reaction, his eyes were glassy and red, and his shirt was half unbuttoned. It had been pulled open and left that way, his lab coat pulled haphazardly over the top of it. Judging by the dark smear of a bruise under his collarbone, Tony was guessing that he hadn’t been experiencing an allergic reaction.

He stared at the camera with a distant, stupid smile on his face. A woman walked across the frame, only visible from the neck down, and not wearing anything except an equally rumpled lab coat. She dragged her nails down the back of his neck and he shivered visibly, almost violently, before slumping back against her and giggling.

“Thanks for the fun time, sugar,” she said. She leaned down to kiss his forehead, but a curtain of auburn hair hid her face from the camera. “Let me know if you want to do it again sometime.”

“’Kay,” Pocket Protector said drowsily. He turned in his chair to watch her pick up her clothes and walk into the bathroom. The door shut, and then the shower turned on. Pocket Protector turned back to the screen and made an exaggeratedly excited face. He bit one knuckle, slightly muffling his giggling. “Oh… my God,” he said, and then scrabbled around the desk until he came up with a vial of white powder. “Screw AIM, we’re taking this commercial. Fucking fuck. So much fucking, Matt, so much fucking.”

“Okay, well, that was helpful,” Rhodey said, pausing the video. He stepped away with his cellphone already out. “Fucking AIM,” he said under his breath as he left the sterile room.

Shaking his head, Tony scrubbed his hand across his face. They may as well have just left behind an envelope with a big label that read, “EVIDENCE OF ALL MY WRONGDOINGS RIGHT HERE.” Considering how well everything else in the lab had been labeled, Tony wouldn’t have been especially surprised. He clicked through the computer while he downloaded the hard drive, finding detailed records on the entire process. One of the Viagra Duo was apparently a neat freak, because Tony found a spreadsheet outlining every conversation they’d ever had with their benefactors.

Tony started to laugh again. “I am completely stunned that you can be so incompetently competent,” he told the screen.

“Having lots of luck?” Steve asked, peering curiously into the room.

“We can call the interrogation off,” Tony said. “Don’t even bother to give them the yellow legal pad and the pen. We’ve already got their confessions here.” He held up his USB drive for illustration. “Though it looks like what they came up with is more along the lines of fun-time recreational drug than hardcore interrogation chemical.”

“I heard Rhodey muttering about AIM on his way out the door?”

Tony pulled up the spreadsheet and leaned back so Steve could read it over his shoulder. Steve barked out a startled laugh and slapped a hand over his face. “I don’t know who’s worse. These two, or whatever idiot at AIM hired them.”

“If only all the villains kept such impeccable records,” Tony agreed, leaning subtly into Steve’s chest. “We’d be out of a job.”

“We could retire,” Steve said with a pleased hum. “We could move somewhere warm, with a beach. I could learn to surf.”  

Twisting around, Tony demanded, “How have you never learned to surf? We lived in California.”

Steve leaned down and nipped at Tony’s neck in mild rebuke. He nosed under Tony’s jaw and set a soft kiss on his pulse point. “Do you know how to surf?” he asked innocently.

Tony sniffed. “Of course not. I’m not a supersoldier.”

“Of course. Only supersoldiers surf.” He tightened his arms around Tony’s chest and rested his chin on the top of his head. “Mellow recreational drug, hm?”

“Seems to just make for good sex,” Tony replied, wiggling suggestively. “Could be fun.”

Steve chuckled. “Too bad we’re more responsible than our friends, here.”

At the sound of the lab door opening, Steve straightened up, and stepped away. Rhodey came back in, shaking his head. He pointed at the computer, not mentioning the on-mission cuddling he’d certainly seen. “I don’t suppose they mentioned any useful names?”

Sliding backwards off the stool, Tony motioned to the still-open spreadsheet. “The AIM representative was at least smart enough to give them a codename. Mr. Wine.”

“With this group, I wouldn’t be surprised if that wasn’t a codename at all.” He shook his head, and then leaned back. “Bruce should be here in a few minutes. Let’s start packing this junk up.”

Next

[stunudo]

Teamwork Makes the Dream Work:

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction Case 1 Part C

Featuring: Female Reader as she joins the Team

Setting: Early Season 12

Parts A B

A/N: This is a piece about how someone with some quirks fits into the BAU. I realized I haven’t tagged anyone in this fic yet, so you might want to go back if you want the really awkward stuff. xoxo Stu

Your name: submit What is this?

“Garcia, please tell me these people don’t think I am psychotic!” You had broken down after you had gotten into your hotel room. There was spotty wifi and scratchy comforters, but you got your own room, thank Turing.

Penelope was still cranking away with all the work the team constantly sent her. Reid should put his brain to use and find a way to clone the woman already. “Y/L/N, no one thinks you’re psychotic. Though I did hear something about high anxiety and possibly PTSD?” Her voice lifted as she was trying to rush through the gossip, but also needed to be honest with you.

“Ugh, I just don’t like being touched. I almost elbowed Alvez in the face and now I have some tragic backstory, aces.” You mumbled.

“Don’t worry, as long as you don’t actually hit anyone? I am thinking they will forget it after the case. First day jitters and what have you. But, well, JJ thinks you’re good though.”  You were pacing the room, wearing your extra large Galifrey Academy tee shirt and some socks. Your hair was wet and you were debating between Hearthstone or Peggle before lights out.

“Jareau likes me?” You were surprised. “Huh, guess I don’t give myself enough credit. Alright, thanks for listening to me Garcia, feel free to ignore me at any point.”

“My newest comrade-ette, no. I am here for the whole team. Well, minus the other newbie.”

“Nighters Garcia!”

The small town cop had pulled over a pick up going 62 in a 45 mile per hour zone. He was pissed that these people couldn’t get it through their heads that the law was the law. It wasn’t even seven in the morning, where did they need to be in such a hurry? He sauntered up to the driver’s side eyeing the man in the side view mirror. When the officer was level with the window, he saw the girl’s face pinned in fear. The driver had a knife to her throat and a rag tied around her mouth.

The officer instinctively pulled his gun. “You drop your weapon!”

The man in the driver’s seat laughed and popped the door on the cop. Knocking him back in to the traffic on the two lane highway. The young woman screamed into her gag. The driver couldn’t react fast enough, the policeman was roadkill. As she slammed onto her breaks, the pickup did a U turn and left the traffic stop like nothing had happened.

You were waiting for the team at the SUVs when Hotch called you. “Why didn’t you answer your wake up call?”

“Sir? I am no longer in my room. I have been up for an hour.”

“Right. I guess I will see you at the cars.”

“Yep.” Anxious bird may not be getting the worms, but at least you hadn’t overslept. Rossi was surprisingly the first one outside. He nodded at you, you waved sheepishly back. Once Hotch was outside, it was all business.

“We have a call from a sheriff in Shawano County. Apparently an officer was pushed into traffic during a speeding ticket. The driver that struck the officer says he had his gun drawn and was pointing it at the driver and passenger. The dash cam footage is silent, but there was clearly a female restrained by the assailant.”

“Any indicators it was Abigail Brown?” Lewis asked.

“Nothing certain.”

“I am assuming Garcia is already tracking the plate?” You followed up.

“He probably already changed vehicles.” Alvez pointed out.

“The unsub would have to search for another vehicle out here. Especially with a victim to control. Chances are someone spotted them or the ditched truck.” JJ added.

“Reid I want you and Alvez to head south, talk to the driver and see what you can get from the footage they have.”

“Y/L/N, Lewis and Rossi I want you back at the precinct in case Garcia finds something.”

“JJ and I will head up to the campus and meet with the roommate.”

The car ride was much more reserved than the one with Jareau and Reid. Rossi drove, playing generic elevator music in the background. Lewis asked about his car. Rossi asked about hers. The drive was only about forty minutes of you listening and not speaking.

The evidence boards were intense and necessary. After examining the autopsy photographs you noticed weird marking on each of the bodies. One of the women had a tattoo so it hid the reoccurring image. It appeared to be a brand of some sort.

“Jareau?” You had dialed without sharing with Lewis and Rossi, but they were listening anyway. “I think these are rituals. There is the same symbol on each of the bodies.”

“Alright, I will tell Hotch. Nice catch.” She answered and hung up.

Rossi was on his phone once he understood your discovery. “Garcia, I am sending an image, see if it belongs to a cult or religious sect.”

Lewis pursed her lips while glancing at the photographs. “If this is ritualistic, then we have to be prepared for anything.”

“Suicide by cop?”

“Worse, martyrdom.”

Hotch put the whole team on the line for an update. “Abigail Brown’s roommate confirmed she had been involved in some new activities. But she didn’t know anything about it being a cult.”

“Sir?” Garcia interjected. “It was definitely a cult. The symbol is ancient, but surprise surprise it has been “re-branded” for the internet age. The screen name loops back over many servers, but the credit card for the chat service used for the “Night Owls” site lands us right back to Langlade County. And not many people have internet service there, it is too expensive to install the fiber-optics.”

“Garcia tell me you have an address.”

“Sending it to your phones.” Garcia confirmed. “Please be safe!”

“Alright, everyone head back to the hotel. We are all going in together. I will have JJ coordinate with the locals as we drive back.”

The drive down the dirt road was a horror movie in action. You had been assigned to Reid and Alvez’s SUV. The Sheriff that had called the team onto the case was driving Rossi and JJ because he knew the area. Hotch and Lewis were in the last vehicle, trailing three squad cars.

Reid was going over building records that Garcia had sent. “It appears to be a large house with a garage and two other out buildings.”

“Plenty of room for an ambush, great.” You muttered.

“We’ll be fine, just focus on getting the victims out and we will handle the rest.” Alvez explained.

“I hope you’re talking to Reid, because I am not on damsel duty here, Alvez.”

Alvez and Dr. Reid exchanged a look. The taller man shrugged, his lips doing that motion from the first trip. Was it annoyance or was it amusement?

“Noted!” Alvez chuckled. “Hotch will give the actual assignments once we park anyway.”

The large green space was surrounded by miles of forest and marshland. If one of the captives had managed to escape you doubted they would have survived without some help. The space around the buildings was hilly and strewn with pine trees. You thanked Babbage that it was still daylight, you strapped on your standard issued vest and felt like a jock for the first time, ever.

“Do we huddle and get a pep talk, too?” You mused to yourself, but Rossi heard you.

“Not usually, but I think it’s because Morgan was the one with the whistle.” He hinted. Your head tilted with interest, but Jareau shook her head meaning ‘wrong time and place, children.’

You followed Alvez to the main house. Reid and Lewis took one of the out buildings. Jareau and Rossi took the garage. Hotch and the Sheriff took the building on the farthest end of the clearing. The infiltration began simultaneously. Doors flying open and calls of “FBI!” or “Federal Agents”.

The house was a bungalow style with a ‘Silence of the Lambs’ style stone basement, luckily it did not come with the signature hole dug below. The rooms were well kept, but abandoned. After clearing all the rooms, you followed onto the garage. Alvez kicked the fender of a pick up truck, “This is the truck from the dash cam footage.”

You nodded, “You see Jareau or Rossi?”.

“Here!” Jareau’s voice called from the back of the unlit room. There were tables of Bunsen beakers, torches, and distilling equipment. “No sign of the unsubs, but I think we can say that it was Abigail Brown in the truck this morning.”

Rossi mused, “I am guessing the chemistry set is how these guys are funding their little ‘family’.”

The four of you dispersed to the remaining buildings when shots broke out. You readied your weapon, moving to secure an entrance. The buildings were identical from the outside. Carmel brick work with obscured glass block windows. Entrances on the northern and southern walls only. Suddenly you heard someone scream, “Go!”

Recalling your training: you kicked in your door, “FBI!” The room was arranged like a classroom, with desks in rows and some computers lining the far wall. Alvez came in the other side, sweeping the area for the unsubs or victims or any movement at all. The server they had set up was pretty sick, but you held yourself back from drooling. “We’re clear, Alvez.”

“Alright, we need to keep moving. Catch up with the team.”

You closed your door behind you and followed the muscular man out the door he entered. When you stepped outside it was chaos. Reid was limping outside with a young woman under his arm. JJ was holding the door screaming, “Out! Everybody out!”

There was smoke wafting out the door and Hotch and Lewis carried the Sheriff out between their strong shoulders. There was a moment of panic when Rossi wasn’t accounted for, but finally he staggered outside with the rest of the team. In his arms was a three year old girl, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Daddy! Daddy! No!”

Your heart tore, this little thing was the unsub’s daughter. Once the door swung shut a group of thuds rolled through the brick building. Was that an explosion? It must have been a poorly executed one. Hotch was on the comms with the locals, calling medics. You regrouped, checking on each team member and confirming the victims had been secured.

You took a minute to calm down from your first big case against the house. You were watching Reid, JJ and Alvez smile and play with the toddler.  Rossi and Hotch were having serious conversations for serious grown ups. Lewis was taking notes while talking with Abigail Brown. Suddenly a hand came up and clamped down on your mouth. Instinctively you dodged and spun out from the attack. You kicked the unsub’s knee in and pulled your firearm. “Hands! Hands in the Air, Asshole!”

The BAU was there in a fraction of a minute, six guns trained on the second unsub. “Dey found you Un-Craig, dey found you!” The little girl sing-songed from behind the row of agents. She giggled at the apparent game. You holstered your weapon and made the arrest. After loading the unsub into the back of the squad car, you turned and looked at the crime scene.

It was a good day: your team saved some people and neutralized some big bads. “Hey Jareau, you think that little girl will be all right?”

Her big blue eyes searched you and nodded. “Yeah, they will find her a good family. Little one like that is already so tough.” You accepted the answer, though more questions flitted through your mind.

“Hey, Y/L/N?” Jareau asked. “It’s J.J. My friends call me J.J.”

@dontshootmespence @penelope-garxia @reiding-and-writing @milkandcookies528 @criminal-minds-fanfiction @rachficrecs @reidbyers @holagubler @speedreiding

[teslaboltzmann]

so I went to see the doctor yesterday.

You gotta understand something about Dr. Tellin. He's not a human GP, he's a cyberneticist from Twilight Holdings. Most of his patients are augmented humans, he says he's seen fewer than 10 Pillars as patients in the past year. He himself is human. So when I went in to talk about data transfer, I thought he was going to give me the whole "always use virus protection, only transfer from partners you trust, never share private keys" spiel. It's like the sex talk, I guess.

When I asked him, though, he hummed and hawed a bit.

"Well, I don't actually think you have the drivers for that. You can receive files but I don't think you could manipulate or voluntarily send them. It's a bit of a quirk of your architecture," he replied.

"What do you mean?"

"You're primarily a neural net. Contact with conventional filesystems... well, it would be pretty prone to error. You'd need an interface to bridge the gap."

Despite the fact that this meant I could tell my boss that I had to keep using the GUI and avoid the vulnerability of being forced to make transfers at work, Dr. Tellin's words carried the somber tone of someone informing you of a crippling disability. It worried me a lot, like it meant I was defective or something.

"Could you do anything to fix that?" I asked.

"I mean, I could look into writing you some custom drivers, but I'm not sure how well they would mesh with your existing architecture. Machine learning is outside my area of expertise. ...I have a colleague who might be able to help, but she doesn't normally see patients. She works with AIs."

...

I decided to see the "specialist." He told me that her name was Dr. Sarah Liu, but to just call her Sarah. The contact info Dr. Tellin gave me only included a phone and an email, no holochat. Either she was very old-fashioned, or very paranoid. I decided to call her on the phone instead of emailing since I could have more of a conversation about my issue.

She picked up after two rings. "Hello?"

"Hello, my name is Tesla, I'm a patient of Dr. Tellin's?" I said. "I'm an Amalgam, and I was calling about--"

"Wait... Amalgam?" she cut me off. "Oh, you must be Fred Tellin's patient!" she said excitedly.

"Oh, he told you already?" I asked. It was unlike Dr. Tellin to do something like that, but if the two were close associates, I guess it could happen.

"Uhh. No, I mean, I... Not as such. Anyway, why were you calling?"

"Well, I'm having issues with file transfer. Specifically, I probably need drivers installed, and Dr. Tellin said you're probably better suited to dealing with that for me." I explained. At this point, I was a little weirded out, but specialists for these kinds of things are hard to find. It took me months just to get a referral to Dr. Tellin.

"Oh! Yeah, I could probably help with that. What's your architecture like? Object-oriented? Functional?"

"Uhh, I'm a neural net..." I'm not actually sure. Dr. Tellin never mentioned much beyond that.

"I know that, I was asking about your programming... Nevermind, I can figure that out when you get here. Knowing the Rift I bet you're something weird. When are you free to come by?"

"I mean, I have the rest of today off," I mentioned.

"Perfect! Come by in an hour or two. I'll send you coordinates. See you then."

No sooner had she hung up than I got a text with her location. She was about 20 minutes away, so I surfed the internet on my phone for a while before finding transport over there.

When the cab got to the location I programmed into it, I panicked for a second. It looked like a private dwelling, not the office building I had expected. Maybe I got the coordinates wrong? But when I checked, they were the same ones Sarah had sent me.

I saw the front door to the smell, ranch-style house swing open.

"Hey!" a woman in a ponytail called out to me as she stepped out of the door. "You must be Tesla."

"Yeah," I answered.

She came down the steps to properly greet me. She kept pausing to admire my body - looking at my fingers as we shook hands, squinting to see her reflection in my faceplate - but never said anything about it. "Come in, I'll get everything set up."

Her house was sort of old-fashioned inside even though she only seemed to be in her 30s. There was almost no post-Watershed technology inside at all except the computer systems. But boy, did those computers make up for it. She had an entire room dedicated just to this big mainframe. Racks and racks of servers everywhere, with tons of cables, and I could see the faint glow of nanites in the air. Must have cost a fortune, and I had no idea what she had to have been running on those. Probably hosting her own site? Or maybe mining cryptocurrency? There's no chits in that, though, no one legit accepts it anymore. A mystery.

Sarah directed me to a chair on one end of the room. It sat next to a user terminal, and a squid-like array of data cables splayed out on the desk next to it. They came with all different ends, male and female, some of which I didn't recognize.

"Find one that fits," she told me, indicating the cables. "Don't force it. If we need to, we can splice in."

Luckily for me, one of my ports is a standard USB. I plugged the corresponding cable into the port on my chest. It didn't feel like it was turned on yet, though.

Sarah reminds me a lot of someone I used to know, but older, and more measured.

As she activated the connection, I felt it immediately. It’s like someone else being in your head, almost. Mostly it was just poking and prodding, not changing anything. I could feel my thoughts triggering sort of semi-voluntarily as it probed my memories, but I couldn’t really make heads nor tails of the presence in my head. One minute it was one place, the next it was somewhere else, moving almost like a living thing, but very carefully. Like I said, it feels really vulnerable to have an open connection like that.

“Yeah, just as I thought. It seems like you’ve got some functional-based stuff in there. Looks like lazy evaluation too,” Sarah said, examining the output on the terminal. “Memory circuits aren’t triggering until they’re forced to. Lemme copy out some memories and try to decompile the nodes into Haskell or something. I’m gonna pick something random because I don’t know what’s what, hopefully it’s nothing embarrassing or traumatic. You’re going to re-live an episodic memory as the files are copied.”

“Okay,” I answered.

...

I was lying in the hospital bed. My skin hurt. Skin. I had skin then. I opened my eyes, which felt gritty and goopy, and bright fluorescent light forced me to close them again. It hurt. Everything hurt. There were bandages all over me. I couldn’t think straight, there was a pervasive fog in my head. Morphine, maybe?

“Are you awake?” asked a high-pitched voice. “Mr. Wright, can you hear me?” The voice was so far away. I tried to speak, but only a scratchy gurgle came out. I coughed. My ribs hurt so much. I shouldn’t have done that.

“It’s okay, Mr. Wright, don’t try to speak.” I felt warmth. The person speaking was gripping my hand. The feeling was so soothing. 

“You’ve been in an accident, Mr. Wright.”

I started to slip back into unconsciousness.

...

“Tesla, are you okay?” Sarah asked. “You made this sort of coughing sound, it was startling. Is the memory over?” She was looking at me with raised eyebrows. Did she see what I saw through the terminal...? No, of course not.

“Yes, pardon me. That was a memory I thought I had forgotten,” I answered a little shakily. 

“Really? That’s odd, usually I end up with higher-priority memories because the software goes for the ones that seem strongest and most cohesive. Graduations, weddings, things like that,” Sarah said, puzzled.

“Oh, I guess I’m just an outlier then.” Really, it wasn’t a memory I had forgotten at all, just one I wish I had.

“What was it of, if it’s not too personal?” she asked.

“Just a hospital stay I had once,” I replied.

“Interesting,” she mused. “Well, that’s gonna decompile for a few minutes, and I’m gonna get myself some tea. Do you... want anything?” she asked, staring with some uncertainty at my mouthless faceplate.

I was a little low on coolant at that point. Normally I don’t eat or drink in front of people I don’t know well, but Sarah... seemed like a good exception.

“Just some water, with a straw if you have them,” I answered.

“I don’t normally keep straws around the house, but I’ll see what I can find,” she said.

With that, she left me alone in the computer room. I could hear her moving around in the kitchen, getting out a kettle and her tea. No pre-made, just the old-fashioned kind. I never got why some people don’t like convenience.

After a couple of minutes, she came back in holding her own mug of tea and a glass of water with a swirly pink loopy straw poking out the top.

“My son used to love these when he was a kid,” she commented. “I don’t have any other straws, so I hope it’s okay.”

I chuckled. “Thank you, it’s fine.” I lifted the front of my faceplate just enough to snake the straw up to my coolant intake. I really need to install a hatch or something on there.

Sarah sat back down at her terminal and read the data output.

“Alright, all of this seems pretty normal. I’m gonna cobble together some basic filesystem drivers and try to integrate them so you can properly store and manipulate files. What kinds of specific applications do you plan on using a lot?”

“I work in marketing and do a lot of graphic design stuff,” I answered.

“Really? An Amalgam working in graphic design? Now I’ve seen everything,” she laughed. 

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to react, so I just nodded. 

“Anyway, that means I’m going to have to do some extensive work with your visual system. I’d have to run more tests on your architecture for that, but I sort of have stuff to do later today... could you come by again in a few days?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure. Any time, really, my work schedule is pretty flexible.”

I had finished the water by this point, and I closed up my faceplate.

“Let me get that for you,” Sarah said, taking it from me. She took the water glass from me and put it in the sink in the kitchen, and then came back into the room and leaned up against the door frame.

“I’ll call you when the filesystem drivers are ready, and we can run the tests and install the program in the same visit,” she said. “Sound good?”

“Alright,” I answered. “See you then.”

She showed me to the door, and that was that.