#need i remind you that demons straight up drink fire in hell?

[queer-reader-07]

you know what i think is interesting? the way that some people have just flat out decided that aziraphale being in hell during the body swap wasn't even a little bit traumatic.

we obviously know it fucked with crowley (see: the telling jim to jump out a window scene)

but what about aziraphale? sure we have no concrete proof it messed with him, but we also don't have proof to the contrary

"oh but he was just laughing about asking for a rubber duck". when has aziraphale ever actually been upfront about his feelings? he consistently outwardly acts like things are fine even when they very much aren't. i don't know about you but me personally? i wouldn't put it past him to be jokey about it when really it messed him up inside.

sure the holy water isn't painful to HIM. but he's down there knowing full well that it was supposed to be crowley in that bath. it was supposed to be the love of his life melting and dying in that bath. and it was to be put on display for all of hell to watch. in the same way that crowley was up in heaven knowing that gabriel told aziraphale to shut his stupid mouth and die already. the same way crowley knew they were reveling in ending aziraphale's life.

like, idk. i just think that maybe aziraphale also has a lot of trauma to work through and him working through it and his shitty coping mechanisms is part of the growth he needs to undergo in season 3.

[purestxblood]

𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖒𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑, 𝔪𝔦𝔤𝔲𝔢𝔩 𝔤𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔬

"𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞? 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲? ▔ 𝘂𝗻𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗻, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀,  𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, & 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸/ 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.

𝟭, 𝟱𝟵𝟲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀. 𝗘𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆! 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝘁𝗮𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄. 𝘅

The walls vibrated in a soothing union as music radiated through the nearly burnt out speakers spread amongst the shitty dive bar you found yourself in for not the second but third day in the row. You were never the type to throw yourself a pity party, always refusing to lower your head in shame and spread your tears until everyone knew you were in fact breaking and feeling ‘woe is me’. You were strong, level headed, and independent. 

Granted, you weren’t as confident and strong minded as you feigned yourself to be. You had your moments where you drank way too much and allowed the shadows of negative thoughts to cloud your head and maybe you did often allow your demons to shine light and fight battles no one else could beat. You were undefeated in the ring and it was rare for any man to put up with your antics.

It wasn’t your fault. You honestly tried to keep the monsters at bay and for the most part you did well. With a heart feeling three times its size you had a lot of love to give, falling in love with the idea of love itself. Your only downfall had been mixing love and pleasure, failing to see the difference between love and lust, and falling head over heels for the men - shitty ass boys - who were equally as broken as you. What you believed to be love had only been temporary comfort and deep down feeling wanted was better than feeling nothing at all. So what if you happened to scare them away whenever you were in a rut and overwhelmed with negative emotions you struggled to vocalize. It wasn’t your fault they couldn’t handle you.

This last relationship of yours had hit you like a ton of bricks. You didn’t expect him to come into your life nor did you expect him to take half of your dignity and heart the second he left. It had been a game of tug-o-war in the beginning. He begged you to let him in and the second everything got rough… When your arguments sent you into fits of rage and screams before your release of cries sent you into attacks of anxiety and waves of depression, he decided it was too much.

‘You’re always here, you’re there… fuck sometimes I think you don’t even know who you are’ he yelled at you as he got into his truck. ‘You’re fucking crazy,’ he spat before he sped away.

Alas, here you were, holding a glass of whiskey straight on the rocks with your back pressed against the back of the bar wall away from the crowd drinking themselves away. You were trapped in a corner and while a woman should normally fear a stranger pinning them in hindsight, you were merely intrigued by the man before you.

You had noticed him from the moment he walked in. Granted, any sane person in Santo Padre knew Miguel Galindo. However, like you - he had retreated to the same ringy bar on the outskirts of town. The bar itself was a hole in the wall but still had a great jukebox, pool tables, and darts, filled with regulars who noticed any face, new and old. Your presence in the facility had been so frequent you noted his arrival every time and he too noticed you.

While everyone in the bar drank within groups, he always seemed to sit far off by his lonesome, drinking his wits and worries away. No one had approached him besides the cocktail waitress who moved on a trained autopilot clock, bringing him drink after drink.

This night had been different.

He was the first to arrive when you got there and once you placed yourself atop of your normal stool, your glass had been filled and waiting for you, the bartender motioning towards Miguel, who nodded his head and lifted his own glass in cheers. You hadn’t made any move to him, taking every drink the bartender gave you that was said to be on Galindo’s tab. It wasn’t until you were on your fifth glass and your head began to feel dizzy from a soft buzz that you stood with your glass to go to the restroom.

Just as you had excited, Miguel had blocked your line of path, taking steps forward as you moved back until you were against the wall. His darkened eyes roamed over your frame, taunting you with his gaze and crisp smirk. Your eyes followed his movements as he lifted his own glass to his lips and chugged the remainder before placing it atop of the table.

“Pretty bold to be drinking alone,” he cocked his head to the side, “don’t you think princesa?” His hand lifted, motioning for another round but not once had his eyes left you.

You brought your glass to your own lips, running your tongue along the edge. “You don’t look difficult to handle,” he hummed, taking a sip of your drink. You mimicked his actions, tilting your head as you eyed him up and down. Even he knew you were aware of who he was, and unlike the rest, you hadn’t shown any sign of insecurity or weakness. If anything, you were matching his stance. 

“Miguel Galindo,” you said his name while lifting a finger to his chest, delicately trailing your nail along the collar of his shirt and down the buttons along his chest, stopping atop of his pants. Your soft touch made Miguel take another step towards you, his hand reaching out to touch your chin. “Running on the outskirts,” you observed, “or running from something,” you lifted a brow.

He breathed heavily through his nose, his face hardening as you called attention to his ploy, reminding him why he even stepped foot into the bar. At first, it had been a distraction for him… a way to forget his mother’s death, hide away from Emily’s nagging, Cristobal’s ear piercing cries.

When Dita Galindo died, not only had she taken her own soul, but she had clung to her son's entire being and dragged him down with her. He hadn’t been the same since and all he felt was a desperate need to relieve his pain and feel anything besides numbness. 

Miguel Galindo was a skeleton with a punctured heart.

Any sane person wouldn’t want to come near Miguel at this time, hell even Emily avoided him when he wasn’t the one ensuring to not cross paths with her; yet you were here toying with him. 

“Aren’t you afraid of my darkness?” he asked, mischief melting off his tongue with a hooded gaze. His hand cupped your left jaw, his fingers rubbing along the apple of your cheek in soothing motions. Puckering your lips, you tilted your head to the side in an innocent and teasing manner before pushing yourself off the wall and closing the gap between you both.

You were merely inches apart, Miguel’s hand creating a small space between your faces. You were about to play with fire and it only stirred your insides. You weren’t as innocent as he was assuming, you carried demons just as Miguel. Not once did your eyes break from the other, both of you battling each other for dominance, your own eyes gleaming as if to challenge him. Licking your lips, you smirked, “nope.”

Grabbing a hold of his hand that lingered upon your face, you maintained eye contact and bent slightly, wrapping your lips around his finger and sucking until his thumb was completely in your mouth. Miguel’s smile widened into a smirk and he closed the distance by tightly gripping your hip and pulling you against him.

So what, you were in a crowded bar on the outskirts of town. Any smart person here knew better than to betray a Galindo and vocalize what actions were to take place. He’d ensure that any night of yours wouldn’t be voiced and rumored. 

Miguel always got what he wanted and right now he wanted to forget and lose himself in you. 

You let out a soft moan as you felt the already growing bulge in his pants rub against you. While one hand wrapped around his neck, the other went to cup his member, rubbing your palm up and down along the cusp of his jeans. Miguel hissed through his teeth, disguising the moan that wanted to come about. 

Miguel and you were nose to nose, your eyes toying with each other.

“You don’t know what you’re about to get into princesa,” he muttered, his lips ever so lightly hovering over yours. He was teasing you, willing you to make the next move and give in to the temptation of a Galindo, however, you were just as smooth as he was.

You batted your eyes, moving your head side to side as you observed his face. With every movement your lips nearly grazed his and you hummed, “that’s the thing Miguel...” you leaned forward, pausing with your lips millimetres apart from his. His eyes closed and he found himself leaning forward, his body silently begging you to give him the ounce of affection he lacked in his life yet instead you thrived off giving him what he wanted, you thrived off his desperation.

Instead of placing your lips upon his (even though you were too eager to taste the liquor on his tongue), you pulled back and brought your glass to your lips. Miguel’s eyes opened and you only smiled sweetly, taunting him with your eyes, “... you haven’t seen mine yet.” 

[fluffypeachwriting]

Hitoya deserves love, can i request senario when a fem so is upset because she saw a woman (works with Hitoya in office) clinging to him like a leach and reader, please make it from angst to fluff

I don’t know if the ending counts as fluff, but it’s still a happy ending ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ I hope I can do Hitoya justice as he can be kinda hard to write for, especially with angst, which isn’t my forte as of now  (シ_ _)シ This was a fun writing experience though, and I’m happy to get your request!

Either way, I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry you had to wait so long for this  (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

A new employee at Hitoya’s law firm seemed to take a liking to your boyfriend. It started with a few flirty lines, and nothing more. Hitoya never responded to them, and that was fine. He probably didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. The whole situation was easy to brush it off in the beginning, since you were well aware of how attractive Hitoya was, and that anyone could be under his spell.

The woman in question knew about your relationship with Hitoya too. The two of you weren’t super affectionate in public, especially at work, but she definitely saw the way you lovingly looked at him when he brought you a coffee and some cake during your shift, and the way he softly smiled back at you. After all, she sat right across from you. She would wait a few minutes, tapping her nails on the table, and eventually get up to go to his office. Then, after purposefully leaving the door just open enough for you to see, she would perch on his desk and laugh at every word he said, putting her fingertips to her lips in a faux-shy kind of way. The sight made your heart leap up your throat and thump in your ears.

The worst part was that she was pretty cute, looks wise. If you didn’t know anything about her personality, you would have compared her to the sexy love interest option in an anime. She made office wear look good, and you never saw her look undignified. Sometimes she leaned towards a femme fatale-type. That idea was constantly reinforced every time she placed her hand on Hitoya’s arm, playfully swatting at him when he got grouchy, and batted her eyelashes when she wanted something from him.

If she was doing this to literally any other person in the office – hell, some people there would kill to have this woman dote on them – you would probably find it funny. Her attempts at ‘seducing’ him were bordering on comical.

This whole charade wasn’t private. The office was getting annoyed too. Not by you, of course. The woman was pretty good at her little admin job, so any chance of getting her out of the office relied on her stepping over the line with Hitoya.

Hitoya continued to ignore this woman, but he never shooed her away or told her to stop. There was a tiny voice in the back of your mind, whispering nasty ideas into your head – the possibility that Hitoya was actually enjoying this attention couldn’t be shaken off.

One night, as you were both in bed, you rolled over and asked: “Hitoya, do you love only me?”

He replied, without turning to face you: “Hn? ‘Course, whaddya mean?”

“I just… the new girl at work is kinda clingy with you. Can you tell her to knock it off?”

“She’s not hurting anyone.”

You sat up in bed and rested your hands in your lap, hesitant to look at Hitoya. “Wait, so you’re gonna defend her? But she’s clearly into you. She knows we’re a thing and… please just tell her to quit it.”

There was a momentary silence, and in the dark room you could almost see the woman in front of you, doing her typical sly giggle. Maybe she had already won.

“You’re worrying over nothing. Go to sleep, you’re probably stressed and tired. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

But it had been many mornings since this all began. The clock read 9:45pm. It was too late to go out for fresh air now, and you had work in the morning.

“Okay, goodnight.” You laid back down in bed and laid on your side, facing away from your partner.

“Goodnight.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying, and waited until you could hear Hitoya’s light snoring before feeling relaxed enough to fall asleep.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. There was a note on your bedside table – Hitoya had gone to work early to prep for a few new prospect hires visiting.

Phew! Maybe that woman wouldn’t have to opportunity to bother him today.

Maybe today would be the start of some normality: with everyone keeping an eye on the visitors, most people wouldn’t be too keen on messing around. As you made some food and coffee, you updated yourself on the work group chat. There wasn’t much of it that concerned you, but seeing people’s elaborate excuses on why they couldn’t come in was amusing. That is, until you saw a message from that woman.

There was a selfie of her in the conference room, with Hitoya in the back, occupied with some papers, with the caption: ‘About to teach some newbies what’s up! Kya ahahaha!’

It was hard not to throw up your breakfast. Getting dressed was a struggle, since you wanted to punch every surface in the room.

They were alone in a room, without you. She could be saying god knows what to him, well aware that you wouldn’t be in for at least another hour.

Rushing to get ready and go to the office was an option, but what good would it do?

All you could picture was Hitoya staring down at you, as you burst through the door, dishevelled from rushing there, chiding you for imagining what you said this woman was doing.

When you came to your senses, you were in the office, bursting through the door, just as you didn’t want to do.

“Hey, Boss?” The receptionist said, looking concerned.

“…Yeah? Where’s Hitoya? And why’d you call me ‘Boss’?”

“You’re basically also our boss too. And I dunno where Boss Boss is but, are you okay? Are you like, super tired?” The receptionist gestured to his clothes, implying that something was wrong with yours.

And there was. Because you were not in your work clothes at all. You had come to the office in a hoodie and sweatpants. In your rush to get ready, you had forgotten about looking presentable.

“Oh shit.”

“Hey, Boss. I know it was an accident, if you slip out and come back soon, I’ll just tell people there was traffic. I got your back.”

“Thanks.” You sighed, thankful that someone was on your side for once.

Right as you turned to leave, a piercing laugh came from the conference room entrance. One that was all too recognisable.

‘Of course she had to see this. Just my luck,’ you thought.

Her heels click-clacked as she came closer.

“Oh sweetie, this is just too much! You think that just because you’re banging the Boss man you can show up in whatever clothes you want? What a pathetic little weirdo…” She looked at the receptionist for agreement but he had turned around in second-hand embarrassment.

You were too miserable to try and act polite to her. You’d had enough. All of that jealously that had been bubbling inside you for what felt like years had finally spilled over.

“Why don’t you keep your nose out of our business for once!? You know we’re in a relationship, so why don’t you just fuck off and leave him alone!? If you’re gonna try and sleep around at least go for single people, you freak!” As you raised your voice, tears started streaming down your face. You didn’t care that it made you look even more of a mess. “The only reason we keep you around here is because you’re good at your job! You belong in hell, you demon!”

No more words could properly express how fed up you were, how much you wanted this woman out of sight. Your hands were clutched tight to your chest, which hurt more by the second. You kept your eyes focused on the floor in fear of her reaction. It wasn’t likely that she’d do a 180 and take pity on you.

Instead, you did a 180 and ran out of the building. You could barely see where you were going, but you knew where you wanted to go.

One turn left, a few crossings straight ahead, a couple of right turns, and you were where you and Hitoya had your first ‘date’: a bench next to a vending machine.

That day, he had planned to take you to a fancy restaurant, but it started raining so hard that you had to take shelter in a convenience store for a while, and ended up missing your reservation. When the sky cleared, Hitoya gave you his jacket to shield you from future showers, and bought a couple of drinks to share. The indirect kiss you shared on that canned coffee gave you the strongest butterflies you’d ever felt.

You wanted to feel that same sunshine on your face as then, and see the same rainbow as then, but the sky was cloudy today. Sitting on the bench with your cheeks resting on your fists, you tried to force your mind back into that honeymoon phase. It all seemed so much simpler then, like nothing could stand between you two. Now everything was dreary. Now it was just you, the pit in your stomach, this convenience store, and passers-by.

Someone was walking a hyper-active dog that tried to jump at you. A lady with a small child asked if you were alright, which was nice. A few teens were out looking to cause trouble, though you didn’t care. A group of kids were meticulously counting their money out loud, and yes, they did have enough money to get a soda and a steamed bun. All of these people, going about their lives, reminded you that even in these times where your world was turning upside down, the rest of the world would go on. Even the guy going on a run was just doing his thing. You didn’t look up, but you could hear him running, then stopping just outside the store.

“There you are.” A familiar deep voice said in-between pants.

Your head snapped up. “Hitoya!?”

Hitoya was there, his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

“I heard what happened from Yamashita, at the front desk. I knew where you’d be. She’s gone. You don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

“What?”

“That woman. She’s gone. I kicked her out of the firm. I’m sorry for letting it get to this point.” Hitoya flopped beside you on the bench and took your hands in his. He sounded award, like he was having a conversation that was long overdue. “It was messed up on my end to not say anything. I just figured out that that was worse than doing something. I… You know you’re the only one I have eyes for, you know that? I know I don’t say this romantic sappy stuff a lot, but uh, you’re always what I look forward to seeing, like, you’re really cute right now, even in those clothes. I kinda wanna cuddle you. Hey, let’s take the rest of the day off and go home and do that, yeah?”

You were too stunned to reply with words. It was like a dream come true. That toxic bitch was out of your life, and you didn’t have to see her again. Hitoya was yours, and he was ready to confess – in public, no less – that he really did love you.

After a minute of collecting your thoughts, you replied in a croaky voice: “Yeah, let’s go home. To our home.”

Where no-one could come between you.

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (2/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Thank you guys for reading the first part of this! I cannot say enough how much I appreciate all of you and how glad I am little things like this bring you guys joy! Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for reading over these words. ❤️

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: One | Two 

-/-

“Emma, the couple at table two wants to talk to you, and the woman at table seven has a complaint about the quiche. Something about there being eggs in them.”

Emma groans and closes her laptop to look at Ashley, one of the new waitresses she hired this summer. She’s good, courteous, and she’s always here on time. Emma is going to hate to lose her for a few weeks when she has her baby, but come hell or high water, the girl is getting maternity leave even if Emma can’t manage more than three weeks without the owner getting involved and likely trying to fire all of them. She deserves months more than that, but Emma can’t change the system.

It’s a shit system, especially for moms.

“They don’t want eggs…in their quiche? Are you serious?”

“She’s vegan and claims she’s been misled.”

Emma rolls her eyes and stands from her chair. She pulls her jean shorts down, the frayed edges covering just a little more thigh, and unties the bottom of her button-down. She probably needs to start dressing up more for this job, but she can’t be bothered. She managed to wear her Blue Dog Tavern polo last week, so that seems like enough effort. “We have symbols on the menu to indicate dietary restrictions, but this isn’t really a restaurant for dietary restrictions beyond one or two items. I’ll deal with it. Thanks, Ashley.”

It’s Sunday morning, which is their second busiest time after Friday and Saturday nights, and the Blue Dog is packed. It’s all hands on deck this morning, but Emma was hoping to get some scheduling and produce ordering done in her office during it. But this is a restaurant, so of course there’s never any time for a breather when she needs it the most. She’ll finish all that later, she guesses, because she has a feeling neither of these conversations are going to be a short one.

And she’s right about that. The woman hating on the quiche pitches a fit and demands her money back before threatening to sue the place and, quite frankly, threatening to cut off Emma’s legs, and Emma has to resolve that without losing her cool when all she wants to do is punch jerks like that straight across the jaw. Then the couple at table two asks her to run through every item on the menu and whether or not everything is organically sourced.

They serve fried mac and cheese balls at ten in the morning and have kitschy, slightly tacky artwork nailed onto the darkly stained wood. If you eat outside on the patio, you get a nice view of people taking off a little more than they should while sunbathing on the surrounding beaches and docked boats. There’s also the occasional ferry that drives by and blows a loud horn that tourists seem to get a kick out of. Do they really think everything is organically sourced?

God, sometimes she really hates tourists.

This is a nice place, though. It’s not somewhere you go for fine dining, but their brunch is divine, it’s got a good atmosphere, and the new bartenders she’s hired this summer make better drinks than you can get at any reasonably priced bar in a ten-mile radius. She likes this little part of the island, and even though she hates tourists, they do fund her entire life. So maybe she hates them a little less than usual when the paychecks roll in.

Today is not a day where the paycheck is rolling in.

Emma notices some of the tables are a little slow, so she picks up the slack, getting drinks and refills and checking on meals. It keeps her on her feet for most of the morning and through the lunch rush, but when it’s over, she collapses on a stool at the end of the bar.

“Chip, can you get me a coffee?” she asks without looking up. “I don’t care what milk or creamer you put in it as long as you don’t bring it to me black. Though, I think I need the caffeine so badly that I’d drink it. I don’t know why I agreed to work the late dinner shift at The Oaks last night. I’m exhausted.”

When she doesn’t get a response, she looks up for Chip. He’s nowhere to be seen, and when she checks her phone schedule, she realizes it’s his break time. Of course it is.

“Lass, I don’t believe the barkeep is here anymore.”

“Yeah, it’s his break, but I can help you. What’s your poison?”

“The coffee you’re having.”

Emma nods and turns to look at the man talking to her, and if she wasn’t so tired, she would have recognized the voice a hell of a lot faster than she did. A lot of different accents pass through this place, but he’s the first British one in awhile. Also the first one to show up in her backyard. Or the Fishers’ backyard, technically, but she’s been renting it for long enough for it to feel like her own even if she’s changed very little of the furniture and decorations outside her bedroom.

Killian. She thinks that was his name. Honestly, she’s surprised she remembers anything because she was in such a rush to get to work that she didn’t have time to deal with all the people at her house. But he was unexpected and attractive – she’s not blind to attractive men no matter what Ruby and Mary Margaret think – and he threw her off for a minute. He looked familiar, but she has no idea why. There’s no way she would have met him before.

But she also doesn’t care. She’s got a gut feeling that she needs to watch out for him, that there’s something that’s not right, and him being at her job is proving that to her. What are the odds that he’d wander in a few days after meeting her when she’s pretty sure he’s never been here before?

Then again, maybe that’s why he’s familiar. It’s June. A lot of people come through here, and she’s not going to remember all their faces. Sometimes she does, though, in the back of her mind where vague, slightly blurry memories reside.

“Sure thing,” Emma sighs, standing from the stool. “Do you have a server?”

“Aye. Heather, I believe, but…”

“But she’s on her phone.” Emma shakes her head. “My boss’s niece. Not much I can do about it, but I’ll get you your coffee, a water, and take your order right away.”

He nods, going back to his own phone, and Emma takes that as her cue to get behind the bar and start making some coffee. She doesn’t usually work this machine, so it takes her a minute to get it right all while she feels Killian staring at her.

“Do you need any suggestions on the menu?” Emma asks as the coffee percolates.

“How are the salads?”

“I prefer things with more calories, but they’re good. Our vegetables are fresh, and I personally enjoy the strawberry poppyseed with chicken, but I know not everyone loves fruit in salads.” He hums behind her as his mug fills, and she grabs some milk from the fridge under the sink, turning to show him. “Milk okay?”

“It’s perfect, Swan.” She raises her brows, which he mirrors, until he cocks his head forward and his lips form an obnoxious little smirk. “On the nametag, love.”

“Now, what did I say about being your love?”

“That you’re not.”

“Exactly.” She finishes making his coffee and hands it over. He’s a customer, she reminds herself. She’s got to try to be a little bit nicer than she wants to be. “So, the salad? If you’re looking more toward the healthy options with protein, the grilled chicken breast on its own is fantastic. You get two sides, which you can find at the bottom of the menu.”

He nods and looks at the menu for half a second before looking up. “The salad would be great. Thank you.”

He picks up his mug, pointing it toward her, and Emma takes it as a dismissal so she can put his order in, and hopefully she can get Heather to do her damn job and serve him for the rest of the meal. She doesn’t like that he knows where she lives and works, and even though she doesn’t think Ariel and Eric spend time with shady people, something about him gives her weird vibes.

His face just looks so damn familiar, and usually she’s really good remembering faces. Huh.

And Emma is usually right about these things. He’s likely nothing more than a rich man looking for a break from life by renting out a large house on the island. He’ll spend a week or two, maybe a month depending on his work situation, here, sleep with as many women as he can, and then he’ll go, never thinking of Martha’s Vineyard again. And she’s pretty sure Ariel does something having to do with high-powered people over in London, so he fits the profile. God, she must have seen him before with Ariel or something. That has to be it.

But for now, he’s a customer, and since Heather seems to be completely checked out, Emma guesses she’s going to have to deal with him. After this morning, he won’t be the worst person she has to deal with all day, and since she’s working at The Oaks tonight, she imagines being treated like shit then will outshine all of this.

Why the hell did she decide to pick up so many shifts at The Oaks? It’s a stuffy country club where tips reflecting the price of the meal aren’t even guaranteed, but it’s extra money with a flexible schedule. She’s doing okay on the money front right now, though, and if she were sane, she’d take some time off and relax, maybe enjoy the beach or any of the hundreds of good restaurants around here.

She is obviously not sane.

-/-

“Oh my God,” Emma grumbles as she strips out of her jean shorts, kicking them to the ground before unbuttoning her shirt. “I’m so tired of people.”

“I’m people,” Ruby says. “Nice bra, by the way. The girls look great.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but she does glance down at her boobs and hike them up a bit. They do look great today. “Shut up.” Emma picks up the black dress she has to wear at the country club and slips it over her shoulders. “You know I’m not tired of you.”

“That’s because you’ve barely seen me.”

“Busy. I’m busy. I work way too much. Speaking of that, why the hell aren’t you at work?”

Ruby stands from her couch and grabs her name tag from the end table. “I’m in between shifts. Granny’s in charge downstairs. I have a five-second commute to work, unlike you. Why are you changing here again?”

“Don’t want to run into any of the people at my house.” Emma smooths her dress and turns to Ruby’s mirror to reapply lipstick and put on some mascara. She’s got to wash her hair tomorrow. It’s hanging by on a thread today, if that thread is a little greasy and has a hell of a lot of dry shampoo in it. “But don’t worry, tomorrow, I will be out of your hair as they will soon be out of mine.”

“You know I’m always fine with you being in my business. Mary Margaret and David are coming here for dinner tonight. Any chance you can slip away?”

Emma finishes another coat of mascara. “Can’t. Working until past closing and then heading straight home to sleep in my house of strangers.”

Ruby laughs, carefree as always, and for a moment, the jealousy stings. Ruby has plenty of her own shit going on, but she always handles it with such ease. She’s the most carefree person Emma has ever met, and Emma can’t imagine living like that without way too much alcohol in her system.

“I told you that you could stay with me this week. Have I ever said it’s batshit crazy that they come to visit and are okay with you still staying there? Because that is batshit crazy.”

Emma shrugs and pulls back to take in her appearance. This is as good as it’s going to get. She doesn’t think she’ll be using her looks to get her any tips tonight, which is a crying shame since that’s half the reason she took this job in the first place. She knows exactly how to charm some of the older men into giving her more money by flirting a little, and she’s not ashamed that she has to give away her dignity to do it. She had to hire a dinner-shift manager at the Blue Dog because she was doing the work of two people with the pay of one. Now she’s doing the work of five people with the pay and of one and half people, so obviously she’s winning at life.

“I’m never there, and they seem like good people. I think they’re just glad I actually maintain the place and am slowly but surely getting through some of the renovations.” Emma looks at her hair again and ties it up in a ponytail with the elastic from her wrist. “Any way you can make me a grilled cheese to go?”

“Only if you agree to go to a bar with all of us sometime in the next month.”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever you want.”

God, she hopes Ruby doesn’t remember this conversation. The last thing she wants to do right now is go out with her friends and then end up sitting alone as they all make out with their partners and leave without telling Emma goodbye.

Actually, the last thing she wants to do is go to work again today, but here she goes.

-/-

Emma quietly turns the key in her front door. She saw that the kitchen light was still on from the street, and while the Fishers likely just forgot to turn it off, she doesn’t want to run the risk of seeing them tonight. It’s their last night here, so she only has to make it through one or two more awkward conversations before she has the house to herself. It’ll be just her and the creaky floors. She can collapse on the couch in her dress instead of having to walk all the way up the stairs and make it to her bedroom like a responsible adult.

In another world, Emma would like to own a house like this. It’s charming. That’s the best way to describe it. It’s two floors, three bedrooms, has bay windows and built-in bookshelves, and the cabinets in the kitchen are a light green. She likes that it’s not cookie cutter white all the way around like some of the nicer houses around here. It has character, and though there are a few things she’d change beyond the needed repairs she does for the Fishers, it’s got good bones. Plus, the location is fantastic, and the backyard is spacious. It allows Emma to spend time in the sun without being stuck on a crowded beach or near a busy dock.

But this is not another world, and Emma could never afford a house this close to the coastline. She’s got no idea why she still lives here. Well, that’s not true, she knows exactly why she still lives here, and it’d be possible for her to pick up and move inland toward Boston. She just…she can’t. She’s been here for ten years after leaving her last foster home in Brockton, and it’s been a comfortable reprieve. She’s got her friends and her job(s), and even though she’s got years of hospitality experience, there’s no guarantee someone like her with a GED can get a job this well-paying and accommodating somewhere else. Plus, her housing is almost free, and she really can’t pass that up.

It all comes back to the house, which she’s dreading going into now no matter how much she wants to collapse onto her bed.

(Or the couch. She really misses the couch. It’s the best for napping.)

Emma steps inside, avoiding the places that make the floor groan, but it’s impossible to dodge them all. She tenses, then hurries across the living room toward the stairs, only turning to the opening to the kitchen at the last minute.

“Holy fuck,” Emma gasps, dropping her purse. It hits the ground in a gentle thud, her keys spilling out and clacking along the floor.

“Didn’t mean to scare you there, Swan.”

Emma’s breath hitches as she realizes who it is sitting at her kitchen table.

Killian…whatever his last name is. She’s got no clue and doesn’t care to ask. What she does want to know is why he’s sitting here alone at two in the morning like a fucking serial killer.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He takes a sip of his drink, coffee she thinks from the smell, and leans back in the chair, the front legs tipping up with him. “Getting sober so I can drive home. Had two drinks with dinner, and it appears I’ve become a bit of a lightweight.”

“Don’t drink much then? I thought all you Brits liked going to the pub.”

He laughs, smile bright against the black of his stubble despite her poor attempt at his accent. “We do, but not so much me anymore. Trying to cut back.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She leans down to pick up her bag, grabbing her keys and tossing them back in. “I also get that we have Uber here. You might want to try that the next time you have a little too much to drink. You look like a murderer sitting in my kitchen like this.”

“It was two glasses of rum, nothing excessive. Wishing Ariel and Eric well before they leave in the morning.” He leans forward, the chair landing on all four legs, and downs the rest of his mug. “I don’t make a habit of drinking too much.”

“I don’t care what you do in your personal time. Just don’t make a mess in my house…or your friends’ house, I guess. And sleep on the couch if you want. There are blankets in the basket.”

She doesn’t know why she’s offering him the couch. She should be making him leave. Her heart is still leaping out of her chest from him scaring her, and even though this has been her home for years, she technically can’t ask him to leave. In reality, Ariel has probably offered him the couch already.

What a long day.

She wants it to be over.

“That’s surprisingly kind of you.”

Emma’s step falters, and while she was turning away from the man, she decides to turn back and narrow her eyes. What the hell is that supposed to mean? “I guess I’m full of surprises for men who don’t know me.”

“Just who are you then, Swan?” he asks, standing from the chair and putting his mug in the sink, turning the faucet on while never losing eye contact.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would.”

A shiver runs down Emma’s spine, but she ignores it and walks up the stairs. This is a weird week, one she doesn’t want to repeat, and the last thing she needs is to spend too much time with a man who thinks he can charm his way into anything with a few smooth words and a smile. She’s been around enough men like that in her lifetime, but it doesn’t matter with him. Tomorrow, he’ll be gone with Eric and Ariel, and she’ll be back to being able to walk around her house without pants whenever she wants.

Tomorrow, this weird as hell week will be over, and she’ll be back to normal…mostly.

-/-

-/-

Tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion​ @dramioneswan​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​

[kingreywrites]

The Smolder Tragedy

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 3314

Summary: A very concussed and very out of it Eugene Fitzherbert comes to a devastating conclusion about his smolder. His kidnappers are not all that sympathetic about it.

Note: that title is so corny god asgfdgh anyway, this is a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic, but there’s quite a bit of hurt!! So be warned that there is talk of a concussion, some violence (because he’s kidnapped), and also a mention of spiked water (he’s mostly fine though but I’d rather be safe)

Read on ao3

Now that he was thinking about it, Eugene realised that the smolder never... truly worked on anyone. Well, when he was younger, adults tended to go easier on him if he made a somewhat cute face at them, and in the following years, doing it never hurt his chances with the people who were already attracted to him. But neither of these facts actually attested of the efficiency of the smolder in itself, and if Rapunzel was left particularly unimpressed, Eugene wasn't sure anyone had ever really swooned because of it.

Oh, the demon Rapunzel from the weird mirror dimension did swoon that one time. Was that a good sign, or a bad one?

"The hell are you talking about?" someone growled, entering the room loudly and making Eugene's headache worse, if that was even possible.

That guy was one of the reasons Eugene was thinking about his smolder's actual abilities - or lack thereof. Because see, if the smolder worked, which he was now doubting, he could simply use it on this guy, and that would make him swoon, and Eugene would use the distraction to get free from the chair he was tied on, and get out of here quickly. But Eugene didn't think the smolder would work. Not because Mr Beetle here (lovingly named after the bug which landed on his head during Eugene's kidnapping - he'll get to that part later) was immune to his charms, but because maybe... perhaps... the smolder had never been effective?

This was devastating news. Truth really was the heaviest burden a man could bear.

Beetle grabbed his hair and pulled his head back roughly, making Eugene see stars and forget, for a moment, the whole smolder dilemma. But then he was being yelled at things he could barely understand between the buzzing in his ears and the concussion he got earlier - without forgetting the stuff they made him drink that made his head all fuzzy and his thoughts completely muddled - and he couldn't help but wonder if he could smolder his way out of here. That'd be nice. It had been what, four days since they got their hands on him? Five? Eugene was bored now.

"If-," he coughed, feeling like the hoarse voice he could hear wasn't his own, "if I tried to seduce you, would you break my nose?"

Going by the way his head was slammed back again, Eugene took it as a yes. That was a shame, truly. He knew that his life was different today, that he had changed for the better and was now the Captain of Corona's Guard, so really, he didn't need the smolder - but he loved that silly little trick. It felt like discovering that Santa wasn't real all over again. Not that he ever believed in Santa, since the matrons didn't see fit to talk about that particular tradition when everyone knew that orphans wouldn't get Christmas gifts, but that's what Eugene thought it must feel like.

His head hurt a lot.

A big hand tipped his chin up, since he had been looking at his pants and the stains on them (would he be able to get the blood out?), and he realised that Beetle was trying to make him drink that weird stuff again. The one that made his head feel like it was floating above his shoulders, and made him feel warm in the most disgustingly sweaty way. Eugene hated it. So he kept his lips as tightly closed as he could, and trashed in the chair to make it more difficult on that goon.

This was becoming ridiculous. The fact that he even got kidnapped already hurt enough as it was - they got the best of him after a very exhausting day, and pointed a crossbow at his heart before hitting him so hard over the head he was pretty sure he stayed unconscious for a few hours straight... which Rapunzel would probably think was pretty concerning. For his part, he was more annoyed about the constant headache than anything. Mostly, he couldn't believe he got kidnapped.

He didn't even remember if anyone had seen him, and hoped no one had gotten hurt during the whole ordeal. In any case, he was pretty embarrassed and, to add insult to injury, they didn't even care about him. He was Captain of the Guard for god's sake, you'd think that would make him interesting enough, but no, they only wanted him to pressure the royal family.

Being used as leverage sucked. Thinking that they might hurt the people he loved by using him made him feel sick, even more than their weird drugged water did.

"If you keep being difficult you're gonna regret it," Beetle threatened, and Eugene would have told him that he was the one who would regret stuff soon, if he hadn't been also preoccupied with keeping his mouth shut. Which, ironically, was something people had asked of him a lot in his life, and that he had always refused to do - until someone tried to force him to keep it open. He never did like authority, after all. The matrons would always tell him that he was a troublemaker of the worst kind, and that someday, life would get back at him for the chaos he created. They were yet to be proved right about that one but-

Beetle punched him in the gut, making Eugene gasp and cough in pain, before his nose was pinched and he was forced to swallow the water, nearly choking on it.

"Rude," he noted weakly when it was over, his throat on fire as he heaved. Already, he could feel the fuzziness coming back with a vengeance, his vision blurring at the edges because of whatever mysterious compound they forced him to drink. He'd have to ask Varian about it. The kid would know, certainly, or would at least be excited to research it, and it was fun when Varian was excited. He still had that weird maniacal villain vibe mixed with his genuine and adorable love for sciency things, and that was an interesting combination to see in action.

The door to Eugene's cell was slammed shut and, in the dim light, he understood that he was alone once again. Beetle didn't even say goodbye. It was okay, though, because Eugene didn't think he could have answered without puking - the entire world was swimming in front of his eyes. Closing them only made everything even more unsteady, and now Eugene wondered if he could even try to do a good smolder in that state. He couldn’t feel his face.

His eyes were heavy, and it didn't take long before he passed out again.

------

Next time Eugene woke up, it was to the sound of yelling outside the door of his cell, loud and definitely not the kind of voices he wanted to hear. Maybe it was stupid, but each time he opened his eyes, he hoped to find Rapunzel here, ready to rescue him, but it hadn't happened… yet.

Trying to raise his head only awakened the ache in his neck and back from the terrible position he was in - he hated sleeping on chairs. Being homeless for a good part of his life had taught him that the bare ground was always preferable, but he didn't think he could argue about his sleeping conditions with his kidnappers. He pulled on the rope that was keeping his hands tied behind his back, and noticed that it was giving a little. If he could just-

"Your plan better work!" someone yelled, startling him - but it was still coming from behind the door. "You don't realise what we're risking with this!"

"Of course it'll work! Do you really think that the son-in-law of the King and the husband of the Princess is worthless? They're gonna listen to us because they'll want him back."

That was… touching, in a strange way. Not that Eugene enjoyed being taken for ransom, or whatever it was they wanted to do, but it did remind him that he had a family, and that they would fight to get him back. Rapunzel was probably worried out of her mind, right now, and this was enough to spur him into action again, because he didn't want to simply wait here for rescue like an idiot.

"What if they attack us?" the scared guy yelled again, as Eugene pulled on his bounds again, ignoring the sharp sting of the rope cutting into his skin, and his ever-present nausea. "What if- what if instead of paying, the guards find us and destroy our base?"

In Eugene's opinion, the guards weren't really the threat here - this guy didn't want to know what Rapunzel would do to him if she found them. The thought was enough to make him chuckle, which in turn made him realise that the weird water might still be having an effect on him, because he hadn't managed to keep himself quiet. Not great.

His fingers fumbled with the knot he could feel, trying to get it to loosen even more. Unfortunately, the door of his cell -more like a closet than a cell to be honest- was thrown open, and he had to act as innocent as possible.

Going by the glare he received, he was doing a poor job of it.

The new guy (he'd call him Martin, because he had a Martin face) seemed to enjoy kicking him around a bit more. The only silver lining was that he seemed intent on kicking his ribs, and consequently left his poor head alone. Still not the best, but Eugene would take it. He didn't have much choice anyway, since Martin decided to greet him with his fists today.

"Feeling better yet?" Eugene breathed when he thought it was over. He earned another kick for the trouble.

"You better hope they pay what we ask of them," Martin snarled, way too close for Eugene's comfort. "Because I can't say that I won't enjoy killing you if it comes to that."

"Aww, I'm touched, truly," was all Eugene could say, before a hand ended up around his throat, and he couldn't talk anymore. He vaguely heard Martin threatening him again, but honestly, the guy should realise that it was difficult to be afraid of him when Eugene was barely conscious enough to understand him.

It went down the same way as it always did, these days. Eugene was forced to drink that damned drugged water -it was getting more disgusting each time-, and he couldn't breathe, and the Martin guy said something about hurting Rapunzel, and if you think you're gonna be able to touch her you've got another thing coming you assho-

And Eugene lost consciousness. Again.

------

When he woke up again, Eugene couldn’t breathe. The world was loud, too loud, his vision was swimming and the room spinning under him, and he couldn't- it was as if his breaths were getting stuck in his ribcage, and was he still being choked, what-

"Hey, Eugene, it's okay, look at me-"

Dragging in air painfully, he opened his eyes to a slit, meeting the frantic and oh so green ones of- Rapunzel?

"Come on, it's okay, breathe with me," she said, voice low, and he listened to her - how could he not? For a moment, when it felt like he was still dangerously tethering on the edge of choking, he wondered if she was even real, or if it was all a dream conjured by the lack of oxygen. Then, she brushed his hair back, her palm warm and tangible on his cheek, and it felt real enough that he melted into it.

"That's it," she encouraged him gently, one hand resting lightly on his heaving chest. "That's it, breathe. I won't let them hurt you anymore."

He couldn't hold back a nervous chuckle at that, but going by the pinch of her eyebrows, that wasn't the right reaction. After a few seconds, when he finally felt like his lungs weren't about to explode, he tried to smile at her. It only seemed to worry her more.

Her fingers trailed along his jaw, tracing what he knew were dark bruises on his skin. She went higher, to his hair, and touched something that immediately made him flinch.

"Sorry, sorry, I-" she exclaimed quickly, pushing his hair away again. "I'm gonna get you out of here."

His perceptions were still blurred, as if he was underwater, but he could hear now the sounds of fighting and chaos coming from behind the door. Rescue. He was being rescued - Rapunzel was rescuing him. He knew she would do it.

"Well, I wish I had been a little quicker," Rapunzel said, her voice wobbly.

"You're just in time Sunshine," he whispered, his throat raw.

"Am I?"

He didn't like the self-deprecation in her tone, nor the worry that didn't seem able to leave her features, and he felt guilty for being the cause of it. If he hadn't been kidnapped-

"Eugene? Eugene, stay with me," Rapunzel asked, with an urgency that made him realise he had closed his eyes. Huh. He was dizzy. "I know, I'm sorry, just- I'm gonna free you, okay?"

He blinked, trying to look at her so she would stop sounding so… scared. She was fumbling with the ropes holding his left hand in place. There was the sound of an explosion outside, right as she got rid of the first one, and she threw an indecipherable look at the door.

He wanted… He wanted her to stop looking so sad. He didn't like it when she was sad. Could he do something about it? Well-

"The smolder doesn't work," he mumbled dejectedly. Rapunzel was taking care of his bound legs now, though he didn't remember her freeing his right hand. He moved it slowly, feeling as if the limb wasn't his own, and wondered how much the weird water was still affecting him.

"Weird water?" Rapunzel repeated. He wasn't sure how to not voice all his thoughts aloud, apparently, which he's sure his dad would find amusing.

Since Rapunzel was still looking at him, Eugene took a few seconds to remember her question and simply hummed, head swimming. That seemed to make her even more unhappy, and he could get disliking the water, but he didn't like when Rapunzel was unhappy. "Do you... think the smolder ever, uh... worked?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"I'm sure it did," she answered, in the same gentle tone she used on people she disagreed with.

"It- it never worked on you, though. And it wouldn't have worked on Beetle, or- or- Martin," he pressed. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, and now his feet were free but he really didn't have the energy to try and get up. He didn't want to puke on Rapunzel, too.

She didn't reply. Instead, she looped one of his arms around her neck, and braced her hand against his ribs. He winced, and she apologised quietly, but before he could try to argue that he didn't think he could do it, she made him stand up swiftly, grip tightening around him when his knees inevitably buckled. He closed his eyes tightly, ears ringing painfully and stomach churning, and he was grateful that he could count on Rapunzel to not let him fall on his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she kept repeating, adjusting his weight to stop him from sliding down further. "I know it's hard, but I'll get you to safety, I promise, just hang on-"

Eugene could guess that he really didn't look great if she was that desperate to comfort him. To be fair, he didn't feel great either. He could barely follow her words, couldn't stand up on his own, and had to focus all his energy into not being sick as Rapunzel helped him walk. It clearly wasn't his best day.

He tried to regain his footing, so she didn't have to drag him with her, but his legs were shaky and he nearly fell again. He thought Rapunzel was going to toss him over her shoulder and run, which he knew she could do, and he also knew his body wouldn't appreciate as much as usual given his current dizziness, but that was exactly the moment Maximus arrived to the rescue. Or maybe they arrived to Maximus? There were more people around them, more noises and voices too, and Eugene couldn’t follow anything of what was happening. He thought he heard Lance, and felt another hand holding him up, but all he could focus on was Rapunzel being here, and Rapunzel talking to him, and calling his name, his one beacon of light when the pain in his head grew to be too much to bear.

He felt her hand in his, and realised that he had been laid down somewhere. He wanted to reassure her, but couldn’t do much more but feebly squeeze her fingers, hoping she would understand. And then, because he was tired and in pain, and because he knew that, now that she was here, he was going to be okay, Eugene passed out.

------

“You are evil,” Eugene moaned, hiding his face under his pillow while Rapunzel laughed innocently.

"What, I'm trying to help!" she smiled, coming to sit next to him on the bed. He felt the mattress dip under her weight, and took a peek at her, groaning again when he saw how smug she seemed. "I even made flyers and everything!"

She didn't seem to care about the annoyed look he threw her way, instead putting a bunch of papers in his hands. On it, his face, lips pursued and eyebrows raised, with the text asking the people of Corona to come test his “infamous smolder” by themselves. At this moment, Eugene would have preferred to have his old wanted posters thrown in his face - it would be way less embarrassing than… this.

“Come on Eugene, what better way to know for certain than to experiment? You seemed really bummed out about your smolder!”

“I wasn’t in my right mind,” he grumbled. “You can’t hold me accountable for my concussed ramblings!”

Her expression softened at that, and her hand came to caress his cheek, gently trailing up to the bandages still around his wound. Her touch was soft enough to not sting, and he couldn’t keep up his facade of annoyance when it was so obvious she simply wanted to make him laugh.

“I love you, you know?” he breathed, and she had a second to look pleasantly surprised before she leant down and kissed him.

“I love you too, Eugene,” she smiled fondly.

“You’re the only person I care to seduce anyway,” he laughed. “I guess I’ll have to live with the smolder being ineffective.”

“If that helps,” she murmured, climbing fully on the bed to lie down next to him, “I feel pretty seduced by you already.”

“Ah yeah?” he grinned. “Well, I’m pretty seduced by you too, Sunshine. You’re my hero after all,” he said, and though he had intended it as a joke, his tone was too earnest to be mistaken as anything but the truth. He could still see glimpses of guilt in Rapunzel’s expression, when he knew she had done everything in her power to find him as quickly as she could - he’d repeat it as much as she needed to finally see it too.

Rapunzel watched him, before cupping his cheek and bringing their lips together once again. He knew he would need to rest again soon, and that his constant headache would probably spike if he didn’t, but for now, he kissed her back, and it felt like everything was alright again. Because it was, in all the ways that mattered.

She saved him, and they were together - he wouldn’t ask for anything more.

[emily-the-fae]

Sound of a Heartbeat

Part 4. Negotiations, Exortions and Stories of the Past

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6

Surprisingly, this story continues to move further for me.

Back to the characters where we left them in the previous part - with some heated arguments and intimate talks.

Pairing: Dracula x OC

Warnings: none, apart from lung diseases, wounds and Adrian being a total sweetheart

Next morning Shari woke up to sounds of footsteps and hushed speech. Straight away she knew the upcoming conversation will have to be one hell of a diplomatic achievement – how do you explain your sudden desire to leave to a group of half vampire, speaker and a vampire hunter who were most probably fighting for your life during the last three days. Trevor would be completely furious. Better stand next to Sypha when presenting the decision, just in case he suddenly has the wish to use his whip. You never know how the Belmont reacts, though possibly Shari could still drag it through without making a big fuss – Lisa was definitely right about one thing: she has made a habit of negotiating her way with people, especially the ones that were apprehensive or disliked her. Truth to say, nine out of ten were either of the two.

- And don't forget, you are our healer, how are we...!?

- And don't forget, you are our healer, how are we...!?

- So far I wasn't so much required, you guys can carry on perfectly well without me.

- I'm still not sure if it is a good idea, Shari, if you want to get some rest by leaving... It may only be more dangerous for you, - Sypha argued.

- Don’t you even think of supporting her! She took a few years off our lifespans with this incident! We can’t just let you…

- No, wait, you don't get it, I...

- Shari!

- Stop bossing me around, Trevor, I am not a child! I have not finished.

- Trevor, please calm down, she is neither under your command, nor your sibling. If she wants to leave, it is her choice, - Adrian stepped in, clearly annoyed with the three.

- See? I can perfectly… - Shari tried to pick up.

- Shari, - Adrian interrupted. – Can I speak with you privately?

The healer was genuinely startled for a moment. She turned to look Adrian in the eyes – probably for the first time since the incident – trying to estimate his emotions and plan her defense strategy. She was never scared of him – or at least she never showed that he scared her sometimes, because surely being sane and realistic she could not ignore the obvious danger presented by those sharp fangs and golden eyes. Still Shari was used to considering him a friend, his malevolent side almost unable to turn against her.

Now she was startled and – honestly – slightly scared. For a moment she thought she saw it in his eyes that he looked right through her: that he perhaps watched her and Lisa or sensed her thoughts or some other vampire telepathy kind of thing. That maybe he thought she was a traitor.

Then he smiled warmly and nodded his head to the side, gesturing for her to follow him away from Trevor and Sypha – and Shari straight away knew whatever it was, he was ready to be on her side.

- Are you sure you need this resting? I mean clearly you do, you are paler than father when he wakes up, but still… Sari, I know you are stronger than you look, but a witch traveling alone during such a time doesn’t seem the brightest idea to me, - Adrian spoke quickly and quietly, for others not to hear their discussion. Shari felt ashamed for how it continued to surprise her that he sounded genuinely concerned.

- Adrian, I’ll be fine. I swear. I just… I don’t feel well…for, let’s say, various reasons, not only the attack. It just suddenly occurred to me that since your father seems to be watching and purposefully slowing you down, it may be a good decision for me to…

- To not stick around and lower the risk of encountering him or strong specifically directed demons? – she nodded in response. – Well, I can get that… And Shari, - he suddenly took her hand, his tone turning uncharacteristically warm. – I’m sorry.

- You don’t have to. We already spoke about…

- Not about that. About your disease. I’m so sorry. If only I knew how to help you – I could have known the way, you know, I once had the access to knowledge that could have… I’m so sorry for you.

They stood in silence for a few moments. Shari found herself unable to look into his eyes, staring at the ground.

- For how long have you known? – she rasped, barely recognizing her own quiet voice.

- Almost as soon as we met… Shari, I…

- Don’t. It’s alright, Adrian, I just didn’t realize you knew and this struck me a little…

- Do you know where you will be heading? – if she ever was grateful to him for anything – though she was grateful for plenty of things to be fair – it was his ability to catch onto the atmosphere and change the topic when it is very much needed.

- I… yeah sure, of course I do, I have a rough plan of what to do. Thanks, - she coughed dryly a few times, still refusing to lookup and meet his gaze.

- Shari?

- Yes.

- Promise me you will be fine. Not to be dramatic, but I… have gotten used to you quite a lot.

Shari chuckled.

- Will do my best, - she finally looked up at him and saw the half-vampire smile broadly. – I’ve gotten pretty used to you too, you overgrown puppy, - they stood in silence for some time.

- Almost forgot, one last thing before we face the storm of unacceptance named Trevor, - he blurted out, when she moved tostep away and turn back to the campsite.

- Yes?

Adrian did not say a word – he simply opened his arms and Shari fell into the embrace without even thinking. She felt utterly childish for being this familiar with him. She also felt it was nice to have someone to turn to when feeling torn and exhausted without having to explain the whirlwind of emotion in your head.

Shari shouldn’t have been surprised that it was Adrian who let her go with such ease. He knew he could trust her decisions, he always did. She was somewhat flattered by the way he treated her as an advisor and assistant even though she was no way as knowledgeable as him; the half-vampire always showed that he believed she had an own analyzed perspective of things, that she wouldn’t be reckless. This time though his trust in her rationality might have failed him. Any way it was, he openly supported her decision and expressed the hope that she would be able to catch up with them in some time.

Shari knew Trevor thought Dracula hypnotized her into surrender and laughed at it to herself. If only he had a clue that it was the human Dracula's wife who controlled her.

In the end of that emotionally exhausting morning they finally parted ways: the trio went in the direction of the closest town, hesitant to leave their friend, but unwillingly agreeing it should be done for greater good; Shari stayed at the campsite with Rodo for a bit longer, motivating it with the need of rest. Adrian threw a concerned glance in her direction, but said nothing. The vampire felt there was something wrong, but decided to let it slide, since he had already supported her decision; if she said she needed rest, then so be it.

In fact, although Shari did tell him she had a rough plan of further action, in reality she had little to no ideas in which direction to move and absolutely no wish of discussing it with thin air in front of her disbelieving friends: they would definitely not see Lisa and they would definitely think she was hallucinating after the attack. To be fair, she could never herself be sure if that wasn't exactly the case. Maybe she was talking to an imaginary friend. However, since she had already decided to believe in the ghost's existence, she had to play along that assumption.

Lisa didn’t leave her waiting and appeared as soon as they were left alone, Shari sitting by the campfire a little lost and a little tired; a victorious smile played on the ghost's lips, as she sat by the fire next to the girl. Rodo made no sign of noticing their guest, only slightly shaking his furry head and letting out a jawn.

- What? - asked Shari, annoyed by the constant attention of the ghost. She took the cattle off the fire and set it aside to cool down a bit. She needed something warm to drink if she wanted to keep her blood and lungs inside her body.

- We have to move out, - Lisa smiled, now more gently, watching the human's movements.

- It would be nice if I knew where we went, - replied Shari, slowly looking around, taking in the little amount of her personal belongings lying about - there wouldn't be much packing when she would have finally decided to pick herself off the ground.

- I'll guide you.

- What if you disappear?

- I won't.

- What if I don't want to go? What if you only tell me that you are leading me to the castle, while in reality you will lead me to Dracula? That is actually most probably what is going to happen, - Shari finally expressed her greatest worry and doubt. She could not just trust Lisa, she wanted to, but couldn't bring herself to do so. The woman was most probably still here because of them - Dracula and Adrian - so her greatest concern would be to stop their fight in any way possible in order to finally peacefully leave them, not care about some girl getting hurt in the process.

- I believe you will just have to trust me. I have told you already, I only want to stop this war with as little blood as possible, especially when it comes to Adrian’s or Vlad-I meant Dracula’s blood. You will be of very little help to me if I simply spend time leading you to your death. Besides, I shall remind you, that your illness is not exactly leading you to a happy life, so you decided trusting me on that one, - Lisa winked at her and stood up; Shari clenched her teeth: well, that was a very good point, but definitely a blow-below-the-waist strategy. - We should move out, the sooner we start - the quicker we'll be there.

- You know, you're like an older sister that I never wished to have, - Shari huffed in annoyance, but finished her tea quickly and proceeded to pack. The fact that she was annoyed didn't cancel the fact that Lisa was right. She had to move out.

***

The day trip was completely uneventful. The few villages they had passed didn't show any signs of having been attacked, but Lisa still made Shari keep away from them - maybe it was for the best, people were very unsafe these days, the fear made them aggressive to any newcomers. Especially to ones possessing magical powers and followed by black wolf-demons. Going alone to such a village could be suicidal.

It was only at the age of ten, that Shari found out she had it in her. That one trait that made people wish your head on a pike no matter how you behave. Animals weren't just "friendly" with her, no-no, friendly is one understandable thing, especially with a little child. However, "friendly" is definitely not the most accurate description of the behaviour of the large black wolf that almost attacked her one day on the edge of the woods, stopping in mid-jump as the girl turned to face it - next picture: the wolf rolling on the ground before her like and ordinary dog demanding bellyrubs. The animals would not simply like her, they would obey her as if she spoke to them directly. She had no idea where the power came from and so preferred to think she was born into her witchcraft. Her mother insisted upon it too, saying that poor old gramma was the same odd thing in her youth. At least that was what Shari remembered her saying when they did discuss her little problem. That was until she turned sixteen – until she suddenly was separate from her family and out on her own. Until the first time the people wanted to get her burned. First of many more to come.She had learned to control herself and make use of herself, never expressing anything people would see as dark wizardry, nothing even seemingly malevolent, working for the local healer, helping out as much as she could and learning some things here or there by herself about herbs and illnesses - not a study, barely a child's curiosity.

Then it was a year of particularly poor crops after an awfully dry summer, Shari sensed it was coming before she ever knew why it was so - the villagers had no other way of dealing with such misfortunes. They placed all the blame on the odd girl who learned to cure wounds and diseases and spoke to the wild animals as she pleased. Burning witches was a very common sacrifice, after all.

The night before the burning was the night she ran. She knew they would come for her, so she escaped before they could get her, left her home to set to travel into unknown. And never truly stopped running ever since.

Lisa pitied her for that, even though Shari tried to brush it off as nothing. She was a witch after all and turned to be quite a good thief, quite some reason for the other humans to hate her already, even though she couldn't say theft pleased her herself - she was surviving the way she could: moving about and healing didn't ever buy her enough bread or material. The longest she ever stayed in a town was three months - then the cycle had to start over.

Lisa understood her reasoning for that quite well. At first she wanted to argue that staying longer might have bought Shari some trust, but held her tongue - she wasn't one to give that sort of advice, not now, not after everything that happened to her exactly for staying a little too long.

When they finally stopped for the night, Shari was almost falling - her legs unwilling to carry her anymore - and bending over in loud wet coughs, feeling the taste of her own blood in her mouth and suffocating in attempts to hold back from even more coughing. The freezing weather and bloodloss, even compensated with Sypha's magic, were not going to make this journey easier for her. Shari felt the feather light caress of the ghost's hand on her back and breathed in deeply, trying to calm her heartrate.

There was pain in her ribs now too - she was scratched quite badly a few days ago by one of the attacking demons. They were fighting off several of the things and one jumped her from behind: neither she nor Rodo had noticed it before. Shari succeeded in turning to face it, making the demon bounce off her and back away as soon as she made eye contact - these things were usually not much harder to control than wolves, especially with Rodo at her side. Unfortunately, before she managed to kick it off completely, the demon had left an unpleasant scratch across her ribcage, making her fall to the ground and lose the mental contact - the beast jumped back on her in a matter of seconds and for a moment Shari thought that would be her end. Only by luck Adrian was swift enough to protect her, fighting the thing away and aiding her to recover later - the sharp claws left three deep gashes on her skin and the girl had to spend a long time tending to herself after the fight, hoping the wound would not get infected with whatever those things could carry on their paws.

The wound had been nicely bandaged before, all was going well, but apparently Dracula's attack had erased that bit of responsibility from her memory and now Shari suddenly faced yet another problem: rebandaging was not only desirable, but very much a necessity by the time she dropped to the ground, settling for the night. The soaked and dried blood on the old bands now scratched and tore at the healing wound, causing her pain.

- ‘T is okay, - she told the ghost, quickly going to sit down on the ground. Removing the band did not take much time as well as putting on a new one-not when she was used to doing it anyways, but removing a part of her clothes let the cold bite her even more in the process, so when she was finished, she was freezing to the bone, so she wrapped herself in whatever warm cloths she had left and pressed closer to Rodo, to keep at least some body heat to herself. They decided to make no fires, as Shari was now mostly defenseless and the girl already felt how much she would regret parting ways with her friends. Lisa's care and Rodo's warm side couldn't do much to keep away the cold and her lungs were almost screaming in protest. She looked at Lisa's pitiful apologetic face and whispered: - I'm already used to it, - no you aren't, this is getting worse by second and you desperately need a fire.

- You have to fall asleep quickly. Tomorrow we'll start off at dusk, - Shari lay between Rodo's back and a large tree trunk; Lisa sat next to her head, looking down at the tired healer.

- I wish it was just as easy for me to move as it is for you, - Shari whispered sleepily.

- Trust me, you don't, - both laughed.

- How much is there left? Of the way?

- If you're lucky - and persistent, we may be there by tomorrow night, - Lisa answered reassuringly.

- Really? That's so fast... Too fast, to be fair. I thought the castle was hard to catch, - she stared back at Lisa.

- Parts of it yes, it moves as a whole. But there are stable parts - that one particular entrance was the one I used when I first found him. It was very hard to track - not many know about it, it's kind of in magically protected grounds or something - nobody has the incentive to go there, - the ghost explained.

- But you had, - Shari smirked.

- Of course I had.

- I wonder how he hadn’t killed you straight away.

- Oh, but he wanted to. He tried to frighten me – told me he would drink my blood, all that classical stuff.

- So what did you do?

- Told him his manners needed repolishing.

Pause. Shari chuckled. Then snorted. Then laughed out loud.

- And he did not murder you for such an offense?

- I believe he wanted to for a moment, but was too startled to act… And then it sort of…happened. I believe it was a big “why not” for both of us, until we suddenly saw something deeper to it, - Lisa smiled to herself, seemingly diving through memories.

- Sounds a little like me meeting Adrian for the first time – God knows I saw those large fangs and yellow eyes straight away, I knew very well what he was, just couldn’t…

- Can’t beware the dark, when it’s choice between stepping in or watching someone suffer?

- Something of the kind. My self-preservation goes way below. I called him in when I saw him bleeding out by the edge of the town – half expected him to drain me as soon as I bandaged him and when he… well, as you can see, didn’t… We just talked. He stayed over for a week gaining strength, not attempting to eat me – I guess that was the first out of the only two occasions when someone I have helped did not try to accuse me of devilish business in one way or another and just accepted the help. Of course he had to be not human.

- The second time that happened was with Rodo, wasn’t it? Humans don’t tend to be overly grateful.

Both chuckled.

- Adrian seems quite attached to you, - Lisa turned to Shari. – Thanks for that. For accepting him. I was always worried that he will have a hard time fitting in…pretty much anywhere, being what he is. So thank you.

- No need to. He is nice, your son. Feels like having a friend for once.

Pause. Shari shrugged and sighed.

- Tomorrow, you said, right? Though I can't say that I'm exactly lucky, so your prediction about the time is probably too optimistic, we are bound to have some struggle tomorrow,- she huffed, turning to her side and snuggling to Rodo's furry back.

- The castle shouldn't be so far away, it is quite close to Tragoviste, shouldn't have taken us long, - Lisa explained. - And you are lucky, sunshine - remember? You survived Dracula's bite. That mark on your neck is your lucky ticket now, - Lisa winked and lay back against the tree trunk. Shari wanted to think of a witty reply, but was interrupted by another violent fit of cough and decided to let it go. The healer cuddled into Rodo’s warm side and fell into uneasy sleep, hoping that the morning would bring at least some relief.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH129

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 129: The Dream of the Holy Nun (XIX)

On this dark road, the witches' butterfly showed them the way while the demons they passed seemed to be unable to see them, turning a blind eye to their coming and going.

The former site of the Vatican was just ahead, and the witch's butterfly hovered around them: "Let's stop here."

Ning Zhou put Qi Leren down, letting him lean on himself, and took out holy water to have him drink. Although the power of holy water couldn't relieve the witch's poison-medicine, it could alleviate the pain. Qi Leren swallowed a few mouthfuls and the cold holy water made the burning feeling in his stomach better, but it still hurt as if he was on fire.

Ning Zhou helped him dry the water stains on the corners of his mouth. In this very close distance, in this very dark night, Qi Leren actually couldn't see Ning Zhou's appearance, but his eyes seemed to reflect the starlight in the sky. He was like the first person who looked up at the night sky, who fell at the first sight.

"I'm fine," Qi Leren squeezed two words from his throat.

But these two words were hoarse and unconvincing, yet they were extremely firm because the plan was about to be realized.

The demon enchantment they discovered when exploring the former site of the Vatican earlier was still there, and the former site of the Vatican is behind an inaccessible barrier.

At this time they were just outside this barrier, and the witch’s butter was dancing and flapping its wings as it flew inside.

The world hidden behind the enchantment seemed to be rippling, and in the deep black, it seems that someone was coming towards them…

Nearby, in the dark, she was slightly glowing, golden.

As she got closer and closer, her appearance gradually became clear. She was a seven or eight year old girl with beautiful golden curls and white roses on her clothes. She walked lightly down the steps to them and Qi Leren could see her face through the layer of the demon enchantment.

She was so much like... No, she was exactly like Maria as a child.

But her blue eyes were not as gentle as Maria's. Even as they were pulled by a playful smile, they were as gloomy as a nightmare.

"This is the face... Well, it's interesting and incredible." The Witch of Nightmares behind the demon enchantment cocked her head and stared at Ning Zhou innocently and maliciously. "It's so interesting that that woman's child came back here and brought me what I wanted."

Ning Zhou’s hand went to his knife and the cold blade was pointed at the Witch of Nightmares.

"Ah, don't be angry, this kid still needs my antidote. Come and exchange it under the guidance of the contract." The Witch of Nightmare's tone was full of greed and excitement.

Qi Leren took out the field memento and Maria's brooch was slightly hot. At this moment, he felt uneasy, even though Su He had promised repeatedly... But he was used to the fact that there would always be accidents at the critical moment, so he was always uneasy.

The contract paper was suspended between the two people, the brooch floated up, and the two antidotes in the witch's hand also floated up. Under the power of the contract, they drifted toward each other, passed through the demon enchantment safely, and landed in each other's hands.

The Witch of Nightmare’s gave a pleasant laugh: "This is it, this is it! Hahaha, I got it, My Lord, I got it!"

She ran to the depths of the Vatican as if the wish she had hoped for for many years had been fulfilled and she’d gone mad with it. She held the field memento and made a pilgrimage to the front of the temple protected by the enchantment of the Holy Nun.

The Witch of Nightmare’s surge of emotion had her look up at the broken temple in the distance, this was the place where she hadn't set foot for more than 20 years, protected by the faith of the Holy Nun. Even in the eight years after her death, she still stubbornly blocked the Devil's remnants.

But as long as one had her field memento…

"That damned, damned Maria, she lied to you, she is unforgivable!" The Witch of Nightmares raised Maria's field memento before the holy enchantment, and she expressed her longing for nothingness. "My Lord, am I like her now? Only I..."

At the moment when the field memento touched the enchantment, the secret technique attached to the memento was triggered and horrible black flames suddenly burned from the Witch of Nightmare’s hand. She let go in astonishment but it was too late. The black flames that devoured everything quickly swept over her body, and the fire from hell completely engulfed her.

Before she could even let out a scream, she was burned to ashes by the absolute power and the frantic demon energy seeped into the ground, causing waves of tremors in the earth.

The vicious game of the Witch of Nightmares had ended. The dawn was coming and the nocturnal demons controlled by the witch’s power slowly walked towards home. Now the cycle of terror would be ended forever.

Outside the former site of the Vatican, the ground was still shaking. Qi Leren had already drunk an antidote and the pain had fully disappeared from his body, leaving only a sticky cold sweat. When pain is over, in order to protect themselves, people's memory quickly forgets the physical torture and only feels unreal when recalling the pain.

"I'm fine," Qi Leren said, standing up straight and wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. "We need to send the other antidote to Dr. Lu quickly."

Ning Zhou responded lightly, looking at the disappearing demon barrier. Behind the barrier was a deep darkness. There was something calling him.

"If there’s nothing wrong with Su He's plan, the Witch of Nightmares should be dead and this enchantment is gone." Qi Leren couldn't feel the demon energy that had come from depths of the Vatican a few seconds ago. Naturally he didn't know the Witch of Nightmare’s situation, and he was a little worried. At this time, the whole hill where the Vatican was located was slightly shaking, as if there was a terrorist operation raging inside, which gave an ominous feeling.

"She’s dead."

"After that, there will be no more disasters."

"Hmm."

"But the task reminder still hasn't appeared. It seems that according to the goal, the Dream of the Holy Nun must be ended... The memento representing destruction is inside, right?" Qi Leren asked again.

NingZhou nodded his head.

Qi Leren instinctively felt that Ning Zhou was in a bad mood and he was a bit nervous, so many words choking on his lips that he couldn't open his mouth. He wanted to comfort Ning Zhou, but he didn't know where to start. He wanted to encourage Ning Zhou, but he felt that his words paled.

But at least at the moment, he was sure that Ning Zhou was different. For him, he had exceeded the limit of what could be called a friend, but he couldn’t give him a sensible and rational position.

He couldn't say it, couldn't say anything, even if it exposed it only a little bit, it was blasphemous to Ning Zhou's faith.

"I... I'll give the antidote to Dr. Lu," Qi Leren flinched timidly. He took a step back and was ready to leave, but just after two steps, he turned back regretfully. "Wait for me and let’s go into the Vatican together when I get back."

No, that wasn’t it. That wasn���t what he meant.

"Or... would you like to come with me?" Qi Leren looked at Ningzhou hopefully and summoned up the courage to ask.

Ning Zhou, standing in the dark, was illuminated by the faint light of the stars, andhis figure seemed to melt in the dark.

He waited for a long time but didn’t receive an answer. Qi Leren's unreasonable nose was sour, and he didn't want to turn around or leave. Even if he knew it was only for a short time, they would meet again soon, it was just for a while. It would be fine in just a little while.

Qi Leren forced a smile and shouted: "Then you stay here, I'll be right back. You have to wait for me! You must wait for me! "

Finished saying that, he ran towards the road they’d come from.

The earth still trembled and mourned and the cold night wind blew on his face, drying the sweat. His heart beat faster and faster with his footsteps. There were no human beings or demons in the empty streets, only his footsteps passing through the silent night with his memories.

As he ran, he thought back. He recalled his hugs, his kisses, and the burning temperature of his skin.

What made him think he was indifferent?

The destination was getting closer and closer. It was a long way to come, but it was so short when he was going back. The night watchman has left. Qi Leren stopped, panting, and handed the antidote to Su He standing in the middle of the road: "The Witch of Nightmares is dead. This is the antidote. Give it to Dr. Lu."

Su He didn't hurry to take it. He asked with gentle surprise, "Why are you crying?"

Qi Leren wiped his face blankly, and the faint but bright starlight reflected in the water marks between his fingers.

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[missroserose]

Summertime Thing

Okay, so really I should be working on the first chapter of this (which I actually have a hard deadline for on the 18th, sorta—more on that later), but I promised @laveracevia and @redmyeyes and @notwhatiam (and also an anonymous Tumblr person) that I'd post the bullet point outline for my angsty wincesty teen Sam novel so here it is, all three-thousand-plus words of it. Still tentative and with a fair amount to fill in, but that's what makes it an outline. (Has anyone yet beatified the SPN showrunners for setting the bar for research so ridiculously low? Praise be unto them! 😂) So, without further ado:

• It’s the summer of 1999 and Sam is sixteen.

• They’re living in rural Arizona for the summer, in a little town in the Chiricahua Mountains called Bisbee that I definitely didn’t live in for three years.

• Bisbee’s a weird place. It used to be a wealthy mining town, but in the ‘70s the company pulled out and the economy crashed. Some of the residents are old mining families, some are old hippies and artists who moved there due to the picturesque scenery and bargain-basement real estate, some are early baby boomers looking for an inexpensive place to retire. There's a surprising amount of live music, an absolutely thriving conspiracy scene, and the local police blotter is a smorgasbord of weirdness.

⁃ John picked it because it’s the county seat (which means lots of local records) with cheap housing and residents who don’t ask too many questions. Dean loves it because it’s straight out of the a Western—several famous movies filmed on Main Street, and the theme-park-town of Tombstone is half an hour’s drive away. Sam hates it, but in fairness, Sam kind of hates everything right now.

• Sam’s getting regular beatdowns with the puberty bat—he’s growing what feels like an inch a week, his voice is randomly cracking, he’s ravenously hungry all the time, and his moods go from happy-go-lucky kid to moody teen to full-on young-adult angst on the turn of a dime.

• Most terrifying of all, his relationship with Dean is fracturing. Dean can tell he’s having a hard time of things, of course, and tries his best to cheer Sam up. Sometimes they get on great; other times, even being in the same room as Dean makes Sam feel like his skin is three sizes too small.

• The frustrating part is, no matter how much of a shit Sam is, Dean won't give up on him entirely, just gives him space for a day or two and then reaches out, like—“hey, come keep me company while I give the car an oil change,” or “hey, sounds like there’s a hell of a party going on up the gulch—let’s go sneak in, I bet they have booze, maybe we can get you laid,” or “hey, Dad said we can take the car, let’s drive to the new mall in the next town and go see a movie. Anything you want.”

⁃ Sam definitely picks Cruel Intentions, intending to make Dean sit through something he’d find boring, but it backfires—the incest subplot ends up making him even more uncomfortable and Dean, predictably, digs watching Sarah Michelle Gellar and Selma Blair make out onscreen.

• Dean is having the time of his life this summer. The town is picturesque, the bars don’t look too closely at his fake ID, Sam’s old enough to fend for himself mostly, and he even gets an evening gig as a bar back a few nights a week, which means he has a little cash. Sure, Sam’s been weirdly moodly lately, but it’s just puberty, it’ll pass.

• Sam, meanwhile, is on his own a lot, with John either out working, out drinking, or buried in his notes; he spends a lot of time walking down to the library over the post office, which is surprisingly extensive, but more importantly, air-conditioned. If he has a couple bucks he might go to the new coffee shop by the library and buy an iced tea for lunch.

• At some point when John’s gone, Dean brings home Tina, a local bartender. Weirdly, they don’t seem to be sleeping together, at least initially; mostly they just hang out, easy with each other in a way that makes Sam jealous.

⁃ Sam hates it when Dean brings home girls (for the obvious reason that he gets kicked out of the house, of course), but he actually hates it more when Tina starts hanging around regularly, all the more so because she’s always very sweet to him—but Dean’s into her and that means Dean’s attention is on someone other than him.

⁃ Tina keeps working on Sam, and eventually he confides in her—he hates their life, hates lying to people, hates the ceaseless travel and string of anonymous motel rooms and constant scrambling for cash, but Dean loves it and he loves Dean. She mentions having a sister that she has a complicated relationship with, too.

• One day John announces that they’re taking a day trip as a family together, and they drive up to the Portal-Paradise area, which is a sky island—a mountain forest surrounded by desert, surprisingly lush and peaceful, with stunning views from the peaks.

⁃ It’s also a fairly cursed place, with bullet-riddled “KNOWN HUMAN TRAFFICKING AREA” signs and a cluster of boarded-up hovels from the ghost town of Paradise that definitely don't look like a Bender compound waiting to happen

⁃ After they've wandered around a bit, taking in the gorgeous landscape and sheer relief of being amongst so much green after months in the desert, John has them all pile back into the car and takes them up to Sugarloaf Peak. As they're climbing the mountain, he mentions that the fire watch station at the peak is a great place to watch for {insert signs of supernatural phenomenon here}. Sam gets upset at that, accuses John of using their family time for hunting. Dean points out (quite reasonably) that their family time has always been hunting together. John goes into Marine mode and shuts down the conversation, Sam grumbles something about "just because it's always been that way doesn't make it right," and goes into a sulk.

⁃ As he's sulk-climbing up the peak, Sam becomes convinced at one point that he hears running water. John tells him that’s unlikely before monsoons start, and to keep climbing. Sam keeps hearing it, though, and asks Dean whether he hears it; Dean listens, but doesn't hear anything. Sam falls further behind, trying to see the source—he catches a glimpse of something shimmering amidst the few trees and strikes off looking for it—but there’s nothing there, only a cliff that he nearly goes over. Dean comes up behind him a minute later, urges Sam back up the trail.

• The next day at the library, perhaps driven by Dean giving him shit about hallucinations, Sam starts looking into the history of water in the area—they’ve driven over the San Pedro River but it always just looked to him like a muddy creek. He learns about the 1877 earthquake that broke the water table and reshaped the water in the area, lowering the San Pedro's level and transforming St. David from a malaria-ridden swamp into a town of artesian springs.

• Later that week, Sam’s sitting outside the coffeeshop possibly reading Flowers in the Attic when he hears the older woman at the table next to him insisting that mutants are living in Paradise, only coming out at night, kidnapping people and murdering them, mutilating their bodies and leaving them for the sheriffs to find (and cover up, naturally). Sam is only half-listening—conspiracy nuts are a dime a dozen in this town—until the woman's friend asks patiently where they're getting water from, and the woman says something about haunted springs in the forest. He pretends he’s Dean for a moment, cuts in on the conversation, says he’s doing an independent study project over the summer. The woman fills him in on not just the one disappearance, but several over the past decade, mostly border-jumpers and itinerants.

• Reading between the lines, Sam starts to wonder if there’s a vampire nest in Paradise; he takes down some names, starts putting the research skills he's been learning to good use. He looks up some of the newspaper records on microfilm, finding records—occasional mentions in the Bisbee Observer (and before that, the more legitimate and much less typo-filled Bisbee Daily Review) of people missing, reading up on the history of Paradise.

• He comes back from the library, excited to tell Dean and John what he’s found, only to find John gone and Dean and Tina halfway through a case of beer she brought; they invite Sam to join them, and Sam does. Drunk!Sam ends up talking a lot about how cool the sky island forest is and trying to convince Tina to come with them to see it, but Tina seems oddly resistant. She changes the subject, tells them about her sister, how she was so dominant that she couldn’t tell where her sister ended and she began. Sam starts to feel a sort of kinship with her.

• The next morning he wakes up, discovers that Tina and Dean are gone. He wanders out to where John’s working in the living room, tells him what he’s found. John, who got in late the previous night and is singularly focused on demon activity, is a little condescending towards Sam—there’s dozens of conspiracy theories circulating through town, and besides, if there were actual vampires in Paradise he'd have found some direct evidence by now, they’ve been here more than a month.

• Sam is adamant about going anyway—"you always say it's our job to look into things nobody else will"—and maybe John's a little swayed by Sam's passion (or maybe Sam threatens to steal a car if John doesn't take him). As a sop, John gives Sam the keys to the Impala and tells him to come back if he needs help; as he's about to leave, John calls Sam back, gives him a tenner and reminds him not to head out to the middle of nowhere without supplies. Sam stops at the Circle K, packs a couple jugs of water and some nuts and jerky, and takes off; he’s a little pissed at Dean for ditching him the previous night (and also for, he assumes, sleeping with Tina) so he doesn’t bring him along.

• A couple of hours later, he’s jouncing up the road. The road is empty, as usual, the sun is hot, as usual. Sam gets to the border of the sky island, where the sun is less ferocious, and pulls off at the first group of abandoned houses. He goes to investigate; the first two are empty, barely more than hovels. The third looks empty, but he spots a table with no dust on it; looking closer, he finds a trap door down to a cellar.

⁃ Sam knows he should go get Dean, but he’s still feeling jilted, so he goes and grabs a machete from the Impala’s trunk

⁃ Carefully, he makes his way down the rickety staircase into the basement, shining the flashlight around—and is nearly jumped by a middle-aged woman, yelling at him in Spanish. He has some high-school Spanish but not much; he manages to ward her off, convince her he’s not ICE or Border Patrol. She still doesn’t trust him, but he notices the two children in the corner, the chains holding them there. In Spanish: “Why are they held?” “Coyote,” the woman spits. “Went to demand more money from my family. Should have been back three days ago. Probably drowned in a bar.” Sam doesn't 100% understand but gets the gist—the empty water jug in one corner and stinking bucket in another tell most of the story. The disappearances, the mutilated bodies—it's nothing supernatural, just people doing awful things to each other.

⁃ Sam picks the locks on the chains, tells the woman to wait a moment; he goes out to the Impala, gets the food and a jug of water, gives them to the woman. She’s still wary, but accepts the gifts. She tries to give him a warning, something about water, though his Spanish isn’t quite good enough to make it out; she also presses on him a small figurine, clearly very old, something that looks like a mermaid.

• He gets back around twilight, finds Dean and John bent over photocopies of local records. John sees him come in, asks him if he found anything. Sam opens his mouth, intending to tell him about his day…then decides against it. Just says there’s no vampires. John grunts in acknowledgement, mind already elsewhere.

• The next morning, Dean's missing again, so Sam stalks off to go swimming at the community pool. He’s doing laps, trying not to think about anything, but Dean keeps coming to mind, the way his eyes met Sam’s when Tina was talking about her sister, the way they felt almost hungry. It keeps haunting him, something about that hunger—he's walking back down Main Street, past some of the shops and galleries that sell local art to tourists, when he sees a large painting of La Tlanchana that bears some resemblance to the mermaid figurine—the woman’s warning comes to him again, and two pieces click together in his mind.

• He starts researching La Tlanchana and her various legends and beliefs about her over the years, particularly drawn by the darker and more vengeful incarnations that the Aztecs worshipped. He starts formulating a theory about the disappearances, that they’re linked to…what? A haunted spring? A mermaid? He’s so tantalizingly close…

• He comes home when the library closes, all excited to tell Dean what he’s found and get his input, but John and Dean are both gone; Dean’s bed is rumpled, and the sheets smell like…well, they smell like Dean and Tina, in a way that makes Sam’s stomach flip with jealousy. It's not that he hadn't guessed that they were sleeping together, but...he’d thought Tina liked him. He’d thought…Dean belonged to him. Little things like the hollow of his hip when his jeans rode low, or the way his knees bowed out when he walked, or the tightness around his eyes when he was trying to hide something—

⁃ —does horny uncomfortable 16-year-old Sam sit on the bed and envision his brother and Tina together and end up desperately rubbing one out right there on the bed? Oh yes he does. Afterward, roiling with several emotions (of which only some are shame), he half-considers going to the bar to look for Dean—but he has more trouble passing for twenty-one, and besides, what is there even to say?

• The next day, Sam intends to sleep late to avoid Dean, but his brother comes in at ten or so, in a disgustingly good mood. “Come on, Sammy, you’ve been cooped up in that library too long. Tina was telling me about a cave up on Mule Mountain, supposed to be a great place for a picnic.” John is still gone, and Sam’s in no mood, but can’t really say no to Dean.

• The brothers strike out over Mule Mountain, watching out for snakes and wildlife, looking for deer. Sam tries to explain to Dean his half-formed La Tlanchana theory, but Dean just humors him. Sam, nettled, starts griping about Dean’s navigation skills, about the way he sounds like their father, about all the time he’s spending with Tina, etc.

⁃ Dean deflects, but Sam’s upset about a lot of things he can’t acknowledge, so he starts in on the major sore point in their relationship—ripping on John for trapping them here, for never letting Dean be a kid, for always demanding their unquestioning obedience and loyalty, etc. Dean tolerates Sam’s griping to a point but once he starts in on their father it’s only a matter of time before he’s threatening to kick Sam’s ass; when Sam gets to the “he’s never let you be independent” part, Dean informs him with no small amount of anger that John has offered to give him the Impala, let him take jobs on his own—but he refused, because he’s been taking care of Sam—

⁃ They’re so caught up in arguing that they miss the way the sky’s going dark—it’s not until the first crack of thunder splits the sky overhead that they shut up and look at the sky, which is incredibly threatening

⁃ Sure enough, a moment later it starts pouring, with all the ferocity of a full-on faucet. Dean whoops, shedding his shirt like it’s an old skin, and dashes for an overhang that might shield them from the worst of it

⁃ Sam swallows and follows, soaked to the skin and shivering as much from fear as from cold. Cue the most miserably sexually-charged moment possible—Sam tryiing desperately not to notice all those little intimate physical things about Dean that he loves, Dean oblivious and in his element watching the storm transform the landscape

⁃ There’s a moment—maybe Dean says something like “Whatever it is that’s been eating at you, spit it out, Sammy—“ where Sam almost confesses. But cowardice, or perhaps intuition, hold his tongue—some secrets don’t need to be told. So instead, he passes it off as moodiness, apologizes. Dean confesses that he’s not actually all that into Tina—she’s fun, and all, but he knows they’ll be moving on soon enough. He lets slip that John’s halfway convinced that there’s no case here, anyway; they’ll probably be moving on in a week or two. Reluctantly, they allows things to revert to the status quo; as a consolation, they find a waterfall and eat slightly soggy sandwiches alongside it.

• The next morning, Sam wakes up to an entirely different town—the hills are starting to turn green, people in town are making plans to picnic by the waterfalls, everyone’s mood is lighter. Sam realizes he’s already looking at the town differently—as yet another place that’ll be in the rear view mirror soon, not as a place he inhabits. He’s coming to terms with that—glad for it, in some ways—when something tips him off that things aren’t right. Maybe the crackpot dude tells him the cycle is beginning again, or he overhears some gossip about how Tina didn’t show up for her shift last night, or sees something in the police blotter. Regardless, he ends up convinced that Dean and Tina have run off to the sky island and that Dean is in danger. Sam once again channels Dean, steals a county truck and floors it out to the sky island, this time forgetting to bring any supplies.

• Sam arrives in Paradise but sees no sign of Dean or Tina. He realizes he's parched (even flooring it out to the sky island, it's a good hour's drive); he listens for the water sounds. Instead, he hears Dean’s laughter, low and beckoning. He follows it, finds Dean standing shirtless in a spring, the version of Dean that terrifies him, untouchable and threatening and irresistible. For a moment he's almost taken in—but he knows Dean like nobody in the world, and thus knows a copy when he sees one. Not-Dean smiles, shimmers, reforms into the more familiar mermaid form.

• La Tlanchana (or this version of her) tells Sam how he puzzles her. She usually kills violent men, and Sam has a lot of violence in his past, and a destiny of violence in his future—but he was kind to the migrant mother, and undid some of the horror she’s seen done in her land. She sings for him, a lullaby of sorts, luring him away from his life of violence and yearning—

• Sam’s about to submit to her song when Tina appears, tells her to stop, that Sam’s destiny is his own to choose. La Tlanchana sneers at her, the same way you did? and Tina says yes—I’ve chosen you. It’s been more than a hundred years, and you’ve seen so much horror, grown vengeful—but I still love you, your kindness, the way you give life in the desert. They sing together, their voices intertwining, until they turn to water, melding together.

• Sam shakes off the daze, goes back to the truck; a few minutes later, he finds the Impala, bogged down in the rutted post-monsoon roads. He shakes him awake, questions him to see what he remembers—Dean appears to have been hypnotized, or something similar. He uses the truck to pull Dean out of the rut, tells him to return to the town, everything's over. Dean will have questions later, but for now he goes.

• Once Dean is gone, Sam goes back to the pool, now a perfectly mundane little monsoon-fed spring. He takes out the little figurine of La Tlanchana, sets it on a rock nearby, tells both Tina and her sister goodbye, and thanks them for their help.

• Epilogue: Sam is beginning his junior year in yet another new school. The smell of the school is the same, as are the lights (flourescent) and the lockers (stamped metal that echoes when it slams); he finds the guidance counselor’s office, lets himself in. The counselor looks up at Sam, comments on both his excellent grades and his peripatetic record. Sam: “So, if I wanted to go to college…”

[shadowywerewolfqueen]

Carry On

For Suptober Day 31

It was a bright and sunny day on a small bridge somewhere near Jericho, California. A large beast of a car, a 1967 Chevrolet Impala named Baby, is parked in the middle of the bridge, four men leaning against her hood. One of the men is younger than the rest, looking to be in his early twenties even though in reality he is only three years old. He’s dressed in a tan jacket, white t-shirt, and jeans. He’s got dark blonde hair that falls into his face and covers his right eye. Jack looks at the three men next to him and can’t help but smile as he takes a sip of Coke.

Standing next to Jack is Sam Winchester. He’s the tallest of the four men at six foot four. His long chocolate brown hair is all the way to the back of his neck and the first few strands of gray are starting to creep in. He’s dressed in a light tan jacket with a gray hood, a bright blue t-shirt, jeans, and an old pair of dark gray sneakers. For the first time in over a decade, his posture is relaxed, and his brown eyes are filled with happiness. He brings the beer bottle he’s holding to his lips and takes a long drag. He looks at Jack and wraps his arm around the kid, glad to have his son next to him.

On Sam’s left side is his elder brother Dean. He’s a couple inches shorter than Sam with dark blonde hair, the sides and front with obvious streaks of gray. He’s wearing three layers of clothes: a dark blue t-shirt, a red plaid overshirt, and a grayish-blue jacket along with jeans and a brown pair of boots. He’s wearing a bright smile, his bright green eyes are full of laughter, and for once he doesn’t bear the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s holding a beer in his right hand while his left arm is wrapped around the person standing next to him. Dean leans over and presses a chaste kiss to Cas’ cheek.

Cas is an inch shorter than Dean and even though he only looks a few years older than Dean, is actually over four billion years old. Castiel was once an Angel of the Lord and was captain of his own garrison of Heaven’s warriors. Now, he is human and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s dressed much more differently than normal, wearing jeans and a red t-shirt although he’s still dressed in his calf length tan trench coat. Like Dean and Sam, his cerulean blue eyes are unusually joyful and a large gummy smile takes up most of his face. He’s holding a Coke in his hands, but it’s still almost full. He’s too busy staring at his family to take a drink. He had never imagined the four of them would be where they are and is still having a hard time believing this is the ending they’re going to get after a fifteen year long journey.

The past few months have been brutal for all of them. After finding out God was planning on destroying the world, they had been searching for ways to kill the man. Chuck had put them through trial after trial, doing his best to break the four men and prevent them from winning. He had nearly succeeded when Dean had become so desperate that he had almost shot Sam and sacrificed Jack just to kill Chuck. If not for Sam talking Dean down and reminding him of the love he had for his family, Chuck would have gotten the ending he wanted. But, he had never been able to control this version of Sam, Dean, and Cas.

They had been thrown for another loop when they realized that they weren’t facing one villain but two. Billie, the new Death, had her own agenda. She wanted Chuck dead but not just because he was destroying the universe. She wanted Chuck dead, so she could become the new God and could set the world back to its original settings. She wanted to send everyone back to their original resting places and make sure that what was dead stayed dead.

The fight with Billie had almost cost Dean everything. After Chuck absorbed Amara and made his little speech about being unable to control them, he popped out of the bunker to places unknown. Dean, Cas, and Sam had dragged Jack to his room and then went to the library, intent on finding a way to save their son. They had been desperate, searching for anything that could keep Jack from imploding on himself. They didn’t care how absurd or farfetched, as long as it would save the Nephilim.

As they were searching, Billie showed up and all of them went on high alert. She was dressed in her usual jacket and dress, all black of course, with her scythe in her hand. Her eyes were twin pools of fire. “You three have ruined my plans.”

“Oh, you mean keeping you from becoming God and from killing us all over again,” Dean barked.

Billie glared at Dean. “You three have broken the natural order of things over and over again. It’s time somebody set things straight, and that means putting you back where you should be. Dean in Hell, Sam in Heaven, and Castiel in the Empty. And every decision and every action that the three of you have caused will be reversed. Order will be restored.”

“So, you lock the demons and the angels up? Close Purgatory and the Empty down? When does it stop Billie? When do you say you’ve interfered enough?” Sam asked defiantly.

“My interference will stop when I’ve made sure to set everything right,” Billie stated, her anger barely contained. “Every demon locked in Hell, every angel caged in Heaven, and every creature that dies stays dead whether it be human, monster, or angel. There will be no more coming back from the dead. Angels and demons will stay in the Empty, monsters in Purgatory, and human souls in Heaven or Hell. That was the way it was always meant to be until Chuck started bending the rules. I will not be so flexible. Now, give me Jack so I can take him to kill God.”

Castiel let his angel blade fall into his hand before stepping in front of the brothers. “You will have to go through me, through all of us before you hurt him!”

Billie let out a short chuckle. “How do you intend to stop me?”

Dean stepped up next to the angel. He pulled his gun from his pocket and pointed it at the reaper. “Like we always do, make it up as we go.” He pressed the trigger and watched as the bullet hit Billie square in the chest.

The reaper looked at the bullet hole before looking back at Dean. The calm mask she had been wearing fell and her face contorted into rage. “Fine! You want to do this the hard way, then we’ll do this the hard way. The plan has changed, I’d like to see you dead!”

Castiel surged forward, brandishing his blade. There was a clang of metal as the angel blade met scythe. While they fought, Dean turned to Sam. “GO! Get Jack, and get the hell out of dodge! We’ll hold her off! Save the kid!”

“Dean, no, there has to be…”

“Dammit Sam! GO! We don’t have time to argue,” Dean cried before pulling the demon knife from inside his jacket and charging at Billie.  Sam hesitated, taking in his brother and Cas one last time before running from the room to get Jack. 

Dean and Cas were doing their best to distract Billie, but it was obvious they were outnumbered. Dean was just a human, and Billie easily slung him out of the way when he charged her. Cas, even with his angel powers, was nothing compared to the Reaper of Death. He had been thrown against the wall a few times and blood was trickling from multiple cuts. Still, he and Dean kept fighting until Dean cried out in agony.

Cas’ eyes locked on the hunter immediately. Dean was lying on the ground at Billie’s feet, blood pouring from a gash on his side. Billie was standing over him, bright red drops falling from her scythe. “DEAN,” Cas cried.

He grabbed his angel blade and threw it at the reaper. He watched with satisfaction as the blade landed deep in her stomach. He didn’t watch what happened afterwards, instead running over to Dean and pulling him to his feet before hobbling out the library. Dean was leaning heavily on the angel as he held his hand to the gash on his side, blood dribbling out between his fingers. 

“Where the hell are we going,” Dean gasped out as Cas practically dragged him down the hallway.

“I don’t know, away from the library,” Cas replied.

Dean grimaced as his side was jarred as Cas continued to drag him. They continued to stumble along the hallway when there was a sudden boom behind them. Dean looked over his shoulder to see Billie storming down the hallway after them, murder in her eyes.

“There is nowhere for you two to escape from me,” she called.

“Cas, we gotta get somewhere and ward the room,” Dean said through clenched teeth.

The very next door they came to, Cas ushered them through. He left Dean leaning against the wall as he used his grace to cut a gash in his arm. He used the blood to start drawing symbols on the door. After he drew half a dozen, he hooked an arm around Dean’s waist and started moving forward again. Cas pulled the two bookshelves from the wall and led them into the dungeon. He dropped Dean in the chair in the middle of the pentagram on the floor before turning back to the shelves. 

After closing the shelves, Cas once again used the blood still dripping down his arm to draw even more symbols. Once he was done, he faced Dean. “That will slow her down, but it won’t stop her.” He walked over to Dean and kneeled next to the hunter. He pulled the tattered clothing away and looked at the bleeding gash on Dean’s side. He pressed his hand to it, ignoring Dean’s pained gasp, and sent his grace into the wound.

Dean relaxed as his wound was healed. “Thanks, but you should have saved your grace. What the hell are we going to do Cas?”

Cas was silent for a moment before softly saying, “I’m going to kill her. With Billie gone, all you have to worry about is Chuck.” There was a loud hammering sound, causing both men to flinch.

“Wait, what do you mean you have to worry about Chuck? How are you going to kill her?” Dean asked, his face contorting into a frown.

Cas dropped his eyes. “Similar to what Jack was going to do. I’m going to use my grace as a bomb.”

Dean jumped to his feet. “NO! NO, we can’t lose you! Sam, Jack… me, we need you!” Dean was silent for a second before adding, “I need you! I won’t lose you, Cas, not again.”

Tears were already forming in the corners of the angel’s eyes. “Dean, let me do this. You’ve fought for this whole world. You’ve sacrificed your life and made impossible decisions. All my life, I’ve made the wrong decisions even if I thought I was doing the right thing. The leviathans got out because of me, the angels fell because of me, Lucifer got out the cage because of me. I’ve made so many wrong choices; I need to make one right one!”

During the entire speech, they could hear Billie banging on the door. From what they could hear, she had almost broken it down, meaning they only had minutes left. 

“No, please Cas! You haven’t always made the wrong decisions! You pulled me and Sam from Hell, you saved our asses countless times, you made sure Jack came into this world! You’ve done tons of good,” Dean argued.

Cas reached out and placed his bloody hand on the left shoulder of Dean’s jacket. “ I know how desperately you hate the idea of Chuck taking your free will from you, but you’ve always had it. Even Chuck admitted that he could never control us, never able to take our free will from us. You were the one to teach it to me. Let me make this choice. Let this be my free will.

I know how upset you were when you thought you didn’t have that. I know you were only lying to yourself so that you could allow Jack to sacrifice himself. I know you think of him as family and as your son. So do I. You’ve sacrificed for your loved ones so many times. Now it’s my turn. Let me protect the ones I love, Sam, Jack… you.”

Dean let out a shuddering breath. “I never meant what I said about Jack and I never should have held that gun on Sam! I was so angry, so furious and I just wanted Chuck dead. I love Jack and Sam and-and.”

“Hush Dean,” Cas said, cutting the hunter off. 

“Cas.”

“I’m a dead man anyway Dean. When Jack died, the Shadow showed up to take him to the Empty. I made a deal to save Jack. I offered to go in his place, but the Shadow won’t take me until I’m truly happy,” Cas explained.

Dean looked at Cas, heartbreak evident in his eyes. “You weren’t happy with us, with me?”

Cas reached his unbloodied hand out and cupped Dean’s cheek. “Of course I was. You’ve always made me happy even when we’re fighting. And Sam and Jack, they bring happiness to me too. But with Chuck looming on the horizon, none of us have been truly happy. Only once he’s dead, will I be truly happy. So you see, that’s what awaits me after this war. Let my death mean something Dean.”

There was the sound of shattering wood and they knew Billie had finally made it through the doorway. “These wardings won’t last very long now that I know how to break them.”

Dean looked over his shoulder, tears swimming in his eyes. He focused back on Cas. “I love you.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s cheek. “From the moment I touched you in Hell, I was lost to you. You have always been my free will.”

“And you’ve always been mine,” Dean whispered before leaning forward and capturing the angel’s lips in a soft kiss.

“I love you Dean. Save Jack. Kill Chuck and save the world. And most importantly, carry on and live for me.” Cas pressed one more tender kiss to Dean’s lips before turning to face the shelves. Dean watched as Cas shed his trench coat, jacket and shirt before once more cutting his arm. He started drawing sigils, this time on his own skin. Dean could feel the power starting to coil inside the angel and he wished they had more time, that there was another option.

They watched as the shelves shattered into hundreds of pieces and Billie walked through the dust. “Well well boys. Did you really think those wardings would stop me?”

Cas glanced at Dean one last time before saying, “No, just delay you.”

Billie snorted. “Delay me for what?”

“For this,” Cas replied. He pushed Dean backwards against the wall as he slammed his hand against his chest. 

Dean watched as Cas’ grace exploded from his chest and raced towards Billie. The reaper didn’t even have a chance to put her hands up before the bright blue flames were enveloping her. In the next instant, the scythe fell to the floor along with a pile of ash. Dean looked to where Cas had been, but there was nothing left, only the burned imprints of his wings on the floor and walls. Dean curled up against the wall, tears running down his face as he ran his hands through his hair. He finally dropped his head, letting it rest against his knees as sobs shook his shoulders.

Minutes later Sam and Jack found him, still in the same position. “Dean, what happened? Where’s Cas?” his brother asked.

Dean just shook his head and pointed to the walls. He heard two gasps and knew that Jack and Sam had seen the marks. 

“Where’s Billie?”

“Dead, thanks to Cas,” Dean replied to Jack’s question.

Before they could say anything else, they were suddenly standing in a grassy field. “How is it that the four of you manage to ruin my ending every single time?” Chuck shouted. “I didn’t get my brother killing brother ending, so I figured I would let Billie kill you, and then I would just end her. But of course, Dean and that damn broken angel managed to thwart my plans once again! How?”

Dean stood to his feet and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Because you underestimate how strong love is. You stand there and say you’ve never been able to control us, that we’ve always had our own free will. That’s because the bonds between us are unshakeable. I have always protected Sam from every evil that threatened him. Cas and I shared a bond that transcended time and universes and even Hell.” Dean looked at Jack. “And that kid, that kid is family, is our son. If there’s one thing that a Winchester knows, it’s that family doesn’t end in blood. Sam, Jack, Cas, and I, we’re family. Family protects family, and that’s one thing you’ve never understood, and because of that you can’t control it.”

Chuck scoffed. “Oh please! This isn’t some Disney fairytale where love conquers all. Power, power conquers all. How do you think I killed my sister finally?”

“You lied to her… just like I did. I tricked her and told her we needed her help when in reality we were gonna kill her. Amara, if you’re in there, I’m sorry. You offered us your help and instead we planned on killing you. We were wrong, I was wrong,” Dean said, his voice full of remorse.

“Please, she wasn’t exactly hard to lie to,” Chuck spat. “She wanted balance, so all I had to do was promise it to her, and she believed me. After all the times I tried to kill and imprison her, she believed me so quickly. Well, with her power, not even you will be able to stop me. I’ll finally get the ending I want.”

“You can try,” Sam spoke up. “We’ll fight because that’s what we do.”

Chuck laughed. “What are you going to fight with? I’m God boys, how do you expect to stop me?”

Sam and Dean pulled out guns and Jack held his hand out. “I’ve always said I’d go down swinging and that there was a gun at the end of this ugly ass tunnel.”

“Whatever. It’s time to end this story,” Chuck replied as he held his hand up. He threw the three men ten yards away from him. He watched as they all rolled over to look at him as he went to snap his fingers. 

“NO,” Dean cried, but it was too late. 

Chuck snapped his fingers… and nothing happened. He repeated the motion and still nothing. “What the hell?” Suddenly, Chuck doubled over, screaming in agony. “You’re dead! I absorbed you! How is this possible?”

Sam, Jack, and Dean watched as Chuck screamed and his body slowly started disintegrating. Black smoke trailed from his eyes, his mouth, and even his fingers. It swirled around him until he was completely enveloped in it. There was one last shuddering scream before all went silent. As the smoke settled, they were able to make out a woman standing there.

“Goodbye brother,” Amara said simply. “I tried to offer you a way out, but your own arrogance got in the way. We could have ruled together, but you refused my offer, too concerned with writing your own ending. Well, I decided it was time to write one of my own.” 

And so, in the end, God wasn’t defeated by a hunter or an angel or even a Nephilim. Instead, he was beaten by his own sister.

Amara walked over to the three men. She easily healed Sam and Dean of any wounds before going to Jack. She knelt next to him and placed both hands on each side of his head. His eyes glowed a bright gold and the cracks in his skin healed. “Thank you,” he said as Amara helped him to his feet.

“You’re welcome. You know, I think it’s time for a new God. A God who will work with me and rule this universe with balance. Would you be willing to do that?” Amara asked with a smile.

Jack looked to Sam and Dean. Sam nodded. “You’re the best choice.”

Dean walked up to the kid. “Sam’s right, you’re the best choice, but it’s your choice. You get to make that decision without Sam… or me telling you what to do. I’m sorry for what I said. I-I didn’t mean it Jack. I understand if you don’t-if you don’t forgive me.”

Before Dean could say anything else, Jack was throwing his arms around him and hugging the hunter. “I know Dean. I know.” Dean hugged the Nephilim tightly.

When Jack pulled away, he looked back at Amara. “I’ll do it. The world needs balance.”

“It does,” she said as she held her hand out and white clouds spread from her fingers and swirled around Jack. 

Sam and Dean watched as Jack absorbed the white clouds into his body. He looked directly at them, his eyes glowing an electric yellow before turning back to his normal blue. “You’ll make a pretty good God Jack,” Sam said.

Sam pulled Jack into a hug while Amara walked up to Dean. “Well, Dean.”

“Thank you. You didn’t owe us anything. You didn’t owe me anything, especially after I lied to you,” Dean said as he watched his family.

“No, I didn’t, but your apology went a long way. My brother lied to me Dean and felt no remorse about it. He refused to bring balance to this world, and so I took matters into my own hands. Together, Jack and I can do great things. Far greater than what my brother and I ever could.” She turned to face the hunter. “You know, I expected you to be happier. You all came out alive and my brother is gone. Your lives are yours now.”

Dean looked at the ground. “We didn’t all make out. Billie was just as much a villain. Cas killed her by sacrificing himself.”

“I see. That does explain a lot. I’m sorry Dean. This version of Castiel was certainly my favorite. He annoyed my brother to no end,” Amara remarked.

“A crack in his chassis. He was the only Cas with free will just as I was the only Dean with free will and Sam was the only Sam with free will. I guess Jack too.”

“Actually, this is the only universe with Jack. It seems the decisions that the three of you made are what lead to him being born. He was a character my brother never wrote.”

“Well, you never do write about your replacement,” Dean said with a huff.

Sam and Jack chose that moment to walk over to them. “So, how are we getting home?” Sam asked.

“I can take care of that. Jack, I will come for you in a few days and we can start your training. Sam, go call Eileen. I’m sure she would like to hear the good news.” In the next instant, the two were gone. She turned to Dean. “And Dean, you gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you.”

“What?” Dean asked.

Amara didn’t answer, just smiled at him and sent him back to the bunker. He landed in the kitchen to see Sam on the phone with Eileen. He smiled at his brother before walking out the kitchen and heading to his room. He couldn’t understand what Amara meant. They had defeated Chuck and Billie and they were alive. There was nothing else he needed.

He shook his head and opened his bedroom door. He flicked the light on and gasped. Sitting on his bed was someone he never thought he’d see again. He watched as the trench coat clad angel stood to his feet and faced him.

Dean stared at the man with disbelief. “Cas?”

“Hello Dean.”

Now, five days later, the four of them had decided to take a roadtrip to California to have some fun for the first time in a long time. Cas was now human, therefore nulling his deal with the Shadow. He and Dean had become inseparable, unwilling to be more than a few inches apart. Sam and Jack had teased them but were glad that the two of them got the ending they deserved.

Before they left for Cali, Dean had put the old KAZ 2Y5 license plate on Baby. He had unloaded her trunk of all the weapons and instead packed it full of everything needed to enjoy a weeklong beach vacation for four. Before they reached the beach, Dean had told them there was one stop he wanted to make. Sam had immediately recognized the small bridge in the middle of the forest on the outskirts of Jericho.

“Dude, are you serious? Why are we stopping here?”

Dean got out of the car, the three men following him. He opened Baby’s trunk and then the cooler inside. He grabbed a beer for Sam and himself and Cokes for Jack and Cas. “Well, it all started here fifteen years ago, I figured it could finish here too.”

Sam took the bottle. “I’m pretty sure it started when you broke into my apartment and told me dad had been on a hunting trip and hadn’t been home for a few days.”

The four of them leaned against Baby’s hood. Dean wrapped an arm around Cas’ waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek before looking at his brother. “Yeah, you’re right, but this was where we ended our first case, so close enough. I wanted this to be where we ended our last case. You, me, Cas, we’re officially retired now.” He looked at Jack. “Son, it’s your turn. You and Amara better keep this world straight. The three of us want to enjoy a long retirement.”

Jack nodded, a bright smile on his face. “We’ll do our best.”

“I know you will,” Dean said as he got up to turn the radio on. He grinned as a familiar song came on.

“Carry on my wayward son,” Jack sang.

“There will be peace when you are done,” Sam continued.

“Lay your weary head to rest,” Cas said as he leaned his head against Dean’s shoulders.

“Don’t you cry no more,” Dean finished softly.

A few minutes later, they decided to head out. Cas and Jack were the first to climb into the car while Dean and Sam stood at the side of the bridge. They stood shoulder to shoulder, looking into the distance. 

“Well Sammy, we did it.”

“It’s Sam and yeah we did. You were wrong, you know.”

“Oh yeah, about what?”

“There was a light at the end of that tunnel.”

Dean smiled. “I guess there was. C’mon, we’ve got a beach to go lounge on.”

Sam looked at his brother. He hadn’t seen Dean so happy or relaxed in a long time. Now, they would both be able to look like that for years to come. The gray that was starting to appear in their hair would become more pronounced and the aches in their bones would get worse but they would be alive. They would get old but they would be happy. They would get a life they never imagined they could have but always secretly wished for. 

“Can I pick the music?”

Dean laughed. “You know the house rules Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole!”

“Jerk!”

“Bitch!”

The two brothers stood there laughing for a moment longer. They had lost friends and family over the years, but they had also gained some as well. They had fought and killed every monster the world had to offer them including God and Death their selves. Now, they were finally done and they could lay their weary heads to rest. After fifteen long years, their long journey had come to an end. Woop woop! I managed to do all the prompts for this years Suptober! Thank you @winchester-reload for the awesome prompt list and hosting this wonderful event! You are amazing!

[scribomaniac]

Something Wicca This Way Comes Ch 12

l Emma l

The silence in the attic was thick and heavy. Liam was still in her face, his nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed as he digested Tink’s words. A part of Emma wanted to punch him straight in his stupid, square jaw, but another part, the part that had kept her alive these past twenty-eight years, cautioned her not to.

“Now that the cat’s out of the bag,” Tink said slowly as she tugged on Liam’s arm, trying to get him to move away from Emma. “Why don’t we all just calm down, yes? Have a cup of tea, maybe?”

Will groaned, pulling himself up into a sitting position, “I could definitely go for some hot chocolate right now.”

Emma’s brow rose. She’d just killed the Source’s son, and they wanted to relax with some hot drinks?

“Come on, boys,” Tink corralled the Charmed Ones towards the stairs, “Let’s get out of their hair for a moment, hmm? We can discuss everything else later, hmm?”

Emma watched them go, barely catching Killian’s blue eyes as he let himself be guided from the room. Then, before she knew what was happening, two pairs of arms were around her, holding her tightly.

“Oh, Emma,” Mary Margaret—her mother—said softly, her voice wobbling in a way that warned Emma of oncoming tears.

Gritting her teeth, Emma tried her best not to stiffen in their embrace. She hadn’t been held like this since—well, she couldn’t ever remember being hugged like this. The Underworld wasn’t very big on hugging, and while hugging Killian had been nice, it had felt more like a manipulation tactic than a genuine show of affection.

Eventually though, Emma reached her limit. “Right,” she stepped away from David and Mary Margaret. “I really—we don’t have to do this. We can just—”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret smiled and stepped closer to take Emma’s hands, “look at you—you’re,” her eyes began to water. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Come on,” David—her father—wrapped one arm around Emma and another around his wife, “let’s sit down and talk.”

“No,” Emma pulled her hands from Mary Margaret and slid out from David’ arm. “I mean, I don’t really want to talk—”

“Well I do,” Mary Margaret interrupted while taking a seat and looking expectantly at Emma and David to do the same. “Okay? Evil can wait—I can’t.”

David took a seat beside his wife.

Taking in a deep, shaky breath, Mary Margaret continued, “You’re my daughter and,” she smiled wide, sincerity shining through her teeth, “I want to talk to you.”

Swallowing dryly, Emma hoped this awkwardness would be over soon and took a seat across from her parents. “Alright,” she shrugged uncomfortably, “let’s talk.”

“We just,” David started, then stopped to rub the back of his neck, “I just want you to know that we looked for you. We never stopped looking for you.” His blue eyes poured into hers and the anguish there made Emma’s chest hurt. “”I’m so sorry, Emma.”

Mary Margaret nodded, “I know your life couldn’t have been easy, but I want you to know how much we love you and—”

“Okay, that’s enough for now.” Emma stood suddenly and immediately headed for the door. Listening to them talk, seeing them cry, it was all too much. She felt like she was being buried alive under their guilt and regret. “I need some air.”

She heard David and Mary Margaret call for her as she bolted down the stairs and steadfastly ignored them. And of course, because she’d never had any crumb of good luck, she ran straight into the Charmed Ones. They were seated in their living room with their delicate little cups of China in their hands, each steaming with some sort of relaxing liquid.

“Swan?” Killian asked, his brows raised and concern etched all over his face.

Grimacing, Emma shook her head and stormed off towards the kitchen, hoping nobody would follow her. Why did everyone have to care so much? And so obviously, too? Didn’t they know how vulnerable that made them? How easy that concern could be manipulated?

Turning on the kitchen faucet, Emma splashed water into her face, hoping to relieve the heat that had begun to burn against her skin. It helped a little, but not enough. She needed to find a release.

Before today, she would’ve known exactly what to do. She’d either take a swig of tonic or released a burst of fire. Now, she had no idea. The tonic was poison and her fire was gone. It’d be replaced with a bright light that she barely understood and didn’t know how to summon. Tink, that white-lighter, had said she’d help, but so far all she’d done was leave her alone with two overbearing strangers.

“Do I need to remind you that those strangers are your parents?” Tink asked, suddenly at Emma’s side.

Forcing herself not to jump in surprise, Emma asked, “Isn’t it rude to read people’s minds?”

The white-lighter shrugged, “Maybe. It does come in handy though, whenever I have a particularly cagey charge.” When Emma didn’t respond and simply turned the sink off, Tink nudged the other woman in the side, “Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

Emma grimaced, “They almost cried.”

Tink laughed, “I’m surprised waterfalls weren’t pouring from their eyes! They love you, Emma, what’s so wrong about that?”

Lots of things, Emma thought. She’d been taught from day one that love was a weakness. Yes, that lesson had been taught by demons, and she recognized that it was probably flawed, but those lessons had kept her alive. Just because she finally knew the truth about where she came from—that she was wanted—didn’t change any of that.

“I don’t know what to do,” Emma admitted quietly. “I don’t know what you all want from me.”

It was so easy, in the Underworld. All anyone ever wanted down there was power. Up here it was so much more complex.

When Tink didn’t immediately respond with some generic platitude, Emma knew something was up. Looking at the blonde white-lighter, she saw Tink’s lips had pursed, as if she were trying to decide how to say something difficult.

Emma groaned, “What—just say it.”

“Well,” Tink said slowly, her eyes sliding to the kitchen’s entrance, making sure no one was about to walk in. “I hadn’t want to mention this so soon—I wanted you to have more time with your parents; Killian, even, but . . .”

“Just say it.”

“It’s about your destiny.”

Brows raising, Emma asked, “My destiny? What, like that stuff’s real?”

Tink nodded, still not looking at Emma. “Every witch has one, you see. Some are simple, like undoing a curse, and some are a bit harder to complete.” Taking a deep breath, Tink gestured towards the rest of the house. “Mary Margaret didn’t know this, but her destiny was to have you—the Savior. The Charmed Ones—their destiny was to restore the balance between good and evil.”

Pushing hair out of her face, Emma caught the use of past tense and asked, “Was?”

Tink nodded, “They completed it. Last night.” She finally returned her gaze to Emma’s. “When you saved them by using your powers—your real ones. By becoming the Savior properly.”

“Okay,” Emma’s brows furrowed. “Then what’s my destiny?”

Taking a deep breath, Tink looked away again and said, “To defeat the Source.”

“What?”

“I know—”

“No,” Emma interrupted. “You don’t know. How the hell am I supposed to defeat Rumpelstiltskin?” Pushing away from the sink and from her white-lighter, Emma thought of the scaled demon and shuddered. “He’s been around for almost a thousand years. No one’s been able to even come close to overthrowing him.”

There’d been hundreds of coups against the Source’s life, and no one ever lived to talk about it. Once Rumpelstiltskin had destroyed single every upper level demon based off the faintest of rumors that there was an uprising stirring. He’d rather raze the entirety of the Underworld than lose an ounce of his power. What the hell was she supposed to do against something like that?

“God,” she spat, glaring at Tink, “your side no different than theirs! No, you’re actually worse!” She was yelling now, but she didn’t care. Let them all hear what she thought of the “good” side. “At least with demons you know you’re being manipulated. You all just cover up your own manipulation with a shitty bow called destiny.”

Footsteps were quickly approaching the kitchen. She didn’t dare look at who they belonged to. No, Emma kept her eyes right on Tink and her ever shrinking form.

“Well screw this and screw you! If you want the Source dead then do it yourselves. I didn’t sign up for this—for any of this—and I’m not going to go on a suicide mission just because you and your Elders say it’s my destiny. It’s not destiny—it’s bullshit!”

This—listening to Tink, returning to the manor, becoming the Savior—was a mistake. She wanted out of here. Now. Emma tried to shimmer, forgetting that power was lost to her, and almost screamed in her frustration. Turning towards the kitchen’s only exit, she found it blocked by the Charmed Ones, each of them staring at her with looks of pity, contempt, and concern. None of which Emma could stand at the moment. That left her with one option—the basement.

Slamming the door behind her, Emma fled down the rickety old stairs into the darkness. She didn’t care about finding a light source. Darkness was an old friend to her from the days before she could consistently start a fire. It comforted her, even now. Finding the darkest corner that she could, Emma sat on the cold ground with her knees pulled into her chest.

The cold felt nice against her too hot skin. Deciding she’d find her way out of the house once she began to shiver, Emma settled in for a long wait and hoped, once again, that no one would come down to join her. She didn’t know what she would do if someone tried to reason with her right now. If Tink were the one to try it, if she even tried to read her mind again, Emma would breathe fire at her, powers gone or not.

If it were Killian . . . Emma honestly didn’t know what she’d do. Tightening her hold around her legs, she tried to sort out the tangled mess of feelings that always found its way into her chest whenever she thought of him. She knew he hated her. He had to, after everything, and she was alright with that. Hate she could understand.

But then why did he always look so concerned when he looked at her? That made no sense. Perhaps he pitied her? But that didn’t feel right. Emma had seen pity, had felt it, and that wasn’t what Killian was expressing.

And then there was how she felt towards him. Everything that had happened between them had been fake, a ruse, a way to manipulate him and his brothers. But, had it been? When they’d been together she’d felt . . . happy? Was that the right word? Emma couldn’t be sure, but she knew it was the closest to happy she’d ever been.

And then there was that other feeling. The one that reminded her so much of lust she sometimes explained it away as such. But it wasn’t lust. She’d felt lust for Baelfire, once upon a time, and this was so much more. Whatever this was, it never left her feeling empty or ashamed. It was delicate and small, and yet not easily pushed to the side or forgotten. Part of Emma wanted to know exactly what this feeling was, but another part told her not to look at it too closely.

Shaking her head, Emma told herself firmly that it didn’t matter. Feelings didn’t matter. What did matter was her survival, and the best way to do that was to get as far away from this house and its inhabitants as possible.

But, of course, before Emma could even properly think of an escape plan, the door to the basement opened, and someone turned on the light. The floors creaked as someone walked down them. Their steps were light and resolute, and soon enough Emma found Mary Margaret standing in front of her.

“Hello,” the dark haired woman greeted a bit awkwardly. “Ah—do you mind if I—” she gestured to the spot next to Emma.

Emma shrugged, feeling too tired to deter her.

“Thanks.” Mary Margaret sat down and shivered. “Sure is cold down here, huh?” She shook her head but didn’t say anything else.

They stayed like that for a while, sitting beside one another quietly. Emma could feel the other woman shiver, could hear the quiet chattering of her teeth, but still she didn’t complain or leave to be more comfortable.

Some more time passed, and then some more, and eventually Emma realized Mary Margaret wasn’t going to leave, and she wasn’t going to pressure Emma into talking. And that somehow made things easier.

Slowly, Emma relaxed her grip around her knees and leaned back against the basement’s wall. The cold of it made her skin prickle with goosebumps.  

“Where’s David?” Emma found herself asking.

“He got called into work.” Mary Margaret waved the phone in her hand, “It sounded important so I promised I’d keep him updated if anything happened.”

Emma huffed out a laugh and looked up at the ceiling, “Anything like me running off again?”

Mary Margaret shrugged, “Or if the Elders try to pick a fight, anything like that.”

“Do they do that often? Pick fights?”

Another shrug, “They can be a little bossy every now and then, but do you want to know why they always lose?”

Emma raised a brow.

“Because of free will.” Giving Emma an impish smile, Mary Margaret ducked her head away and continued, “They can’t force us to do anything we don’t want to, you know. So even when they say things like ‘destiny’, it doesn’t mean much unless you want it to.”

Emma hummed suspiciously, but didn’t comment.

“They were pretty mad at me, you know,” Mary Margaret said, playing with her wedding ring, “when I quit practicing magic. It was before I had you, and they were worried that I—I don’t know.” She shook her head, “But they even had the Angel of Fate come down to try and talk me out of it. In the end though, it was still my decision to make, and they had to accept it.”

There was a pause, and then Emma asked, “Why did you quit?”

Looking up at her daughter, Mary Margaret smiled sadly, “I killed an Innocent. I wonder,” her brows furrowed, but then she shook her head. “He stepped in the way for a demon he loved, and that,” she rubbed at her eyes, “it almost destroyed me.”

Mary Margaret took a deep breath, then added, “I thought that would be penance for my crime. I thought that if I gave up magic, then that would be the end of it. The price for my crime, but,” her voice turned thick, “then you were taken from me. You know, I’d only held you once before you were stolen.” She sniffed, obviously trying hard to keep the tears at bay.

Emma thought about how Mary Margaret had hugged her earlier, how Emma had pulled herself free not long after. Her stomach sank and before Emma fully processed what she was doing, she found her arm reaching around the other woman’s shoulders. I’m sorry, she wanted to say. I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry no one protected you. I’m sorry we didn’t have more time. But the words became stuck in Emma’s throat.

Mary Margaret’s hand found Emma’s and gave it a firm squeeze. Sobbing out a laugh, Mary Margaret used her other hand to brush away some tears, “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

Brows raising, Emma felt her heart tighten. “It’s okay,” she said, “It doesn’t—I don’t mind.”

Mary Margaret laughed again, and this time it was less watery, “Thanks.” Dabbing her eyes with the edge of her shirt sleeve, Mary Margaret then turned to get a good look at her daughter. “Emma, I’m so glad that you’re back, that we found each other again.” She gave Emma’s hand another squeeze, “And I’m glad because you’re back, do you understand? Not as the Savior, or for anything related to magic, but because you’re my daughter and I love you. I always have. And if you want to leave this all behind, then we will. Just say the word and your father and I will take you far away from here.”

Letting out a deep breath, Emma let the stress bleed out from her shoulders and settled more comfortably against Mary Margaret. She still had no idea what to do next, but as Emma took a deep breath, smelling roses and almonds, she knew that whatever she did, she wouldn’t have to do it alone.

[angstyaches]

Oooh, could you possibly do "Have you eaten today?" for the prompt meme?

Thank you for this, anon! (Sorry it took so long, *gulp*.) This is while Shayne’s at the Aldridge townhouse, still settling in and getting to know Felix. 

I HAVE written the conversation Shayne has with Ryan. Please let me know if you’re interested in seeing that posted soon!

CW: hunger, disordered eating, past trauma, food issues, angst.

When to stop talking, and when to start

(Three Boys in a Townhouse)

Shayne stopped at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing at his eyes and shivering. He’d only come down for some water, but now it seemed he was having auditory hallucinations. The TV in the front room of the Devine’s mansion had never worked, but there was a low hum of unfamiliar voices and applause and music leaking from the direction of the front room, and  –

He looked around as he took his hands away from his eyes. The hallway walls were painted crisp white, lit only by a boxy white lamp on an iron dresser; if he were back with the Devines, he’d be looking at Madelyn’s antique display cabinet against a burgundy wall, lit by a handful of candles, if lit at all. But he was miles away, in the Aldridge townhouse.

A low groan of confusion escaped from deep in his chest. He was dizzy and a bit nauseous, now that he took a moment to check in with himself. He rubbed half-consciously at a dull ache in his belly, stopping himself when he realised someone could come into the hallway and see him at any time.

You think your petty ailments matter in the grand scheme of things? The sound of Madelyn’s voice was as clear in his head as it had been in whatever dream had disoriented him. Shayne cleared his throat and tried to look more alive than he felt as he turned left at the end of the stairs, towards the kitchen.

He wasn’t sure if it was the solid day of study or the intense twenty-minute nap he’d just woken up from, but something had seriously messed up his head, along with his body. He felt like he was either going to retch or feel his knees buckle under him at any second, and he just wanted to grab a drink quickly, and get back upstairs before he bumped into Elliott, or Nancy, or Ryan, or especially –

“Oh, hey, Shayne!”

The kitchen was as monochromatic as every other room in the house, with white lighting that was almost offensive. Shayne wasn’t used to seeing the corners of furniture, the details in floor and wall tiles, so clearly. It was like an assault on his senses and didn’t help with the queasy ache in his stomach.

He blinked at the sight of Felix, and again at the smell of food cooking. It must have been earlier in the evening than he’d thought. The air was mostly full of the smell of hot oil, and a lot of steam that was coming from a stocky white contraption next to the microwave.

Felix had been standing near the white appliance and checking his phone, but had looked up at the sudden movement in the doorway.

“Evening,” he said, a soft smile splitting his face.

“Hey,” Shayne said, unable to suppress a shiver. He hadn’t realised just how cold he was until he felt the warmth in the air from food being cooked. He shoved his hands into his pockets, wishing the kitchen had been empty. “Sorry, I’ll be out of your way in a minute.”

“Aw, buddy, you can be in my way all you like.” Felix laid his phone down on the countertop and casually folded his arms. “We nearly straight-up forgot you were in the house. You’ve been revising all day?”

“Pretty much.” Shayne felt Felix watching him as he took down a glass and went to fill it up from the sink. He took a few sips to try to calm the weird shakiness, but the sensation of the cold liquid running down made him shiver again.

“Yeah, its chilly tonight,” Felix said, as though agreeing with something Shayne had said aloud. “Elli and I have got a fire going in the front room. You could bring your books downstairs and study down here, unless the TV would be too distracting.”

Shayne took another sip of water, his hand weirdly unsteady, as he considered the offer. Being near a fire sounded nice, but it wasn’t the TV he was most concerned about being in a room with. Elliott had seemed so cold the past few days, and Shayne didn’t know how to deal with him. Another reason he’d been basically isolating himself in his room.

“I know it probably seems like he’s annoyed and doesn’t want to see you,” Felix admitted, as though he’d somehow read Shayne’s mind. “But Elliott’s just – he’s reluctant to make the first move, after everything. He can be stubborn as hell sometimes. I guess you’ve got that in common, and that’s why you clash horns so often.”

Shayne lifted his head in surprise, the shakiness in his bones suddenly feeding into panicked defensiveness. “I’m not stubborn. Am I?”

“Um, of course not. What was I thinking?” Felix visibly chewed his lip and turned his gaze away. “I think I know the answer to this, bud, but have you eaten today?”

Shayne shook his head slightly. He hadn’t, but he was fine with that. He didn’t want to ask anything of the Aldridges, aside from the space he’d been given to use. Space couldn’t be used up; he could leave the bedroom in the exact same state he’d found it in. It’d be like he was never there, eventually, and he wouldn’t have to feel that he owed them anything.

He’d been feeling so sick and stressed that the thought of food genuinely wasn’t appealing anyway; in fact, the lack of food in his system should have reduced the nausea that had been coming and going since he’d arrived at the townhouse, but somehow it hadn’t.

“You know you…” Felix grimaced and trailed off, seeming unsure of whether he was supposed to laugh now or not.

Shayne gulped against a swelling sensation in his chest. The flash of sympathy he’d just seen in Felix’s eyes reminded him way too much of Charlie’s questions, Charlie’s attempts to feed him, Charlie’s soft expression as he tried to understand. The hollow ache in the pit of his stomach seemed to sharpen slightly; damn it, he’d almost lasted the whole day without letting himself dwell on Charlie…

“You know you’re allowed to eat, right?” Felix finally finished, lowering his voice. “The kitchen’s not just here for show.”

“I – yeah, I know,” he tried to say matter-of-factly. His hands burrowed into the pockets of his jeans and his shoulders tensed so suddenly that they ached.

“You can eat with us in a little while, if you’re hungry,” Felix offered.

Eating with Felix and Elliott. Eating with two whole people; being near them while he put food in his mouth and chewed it up and swallowed it. One person he barely knew and didn’t know how to act around, and one person who pretty thought he was a psychopath. The whole thing sounded like a horror movie scenario.

“Thanks,” he said flatly, gulping against the fear gurgling up the back of his throat. “I’m not hungry.”

“That’s a shame, it’s just – I forgot that Nancy would be out tonight,” Felix went on, glancing towards the white appliance, which was expelling a lot less steam than it had been before, “so I’ve actually made more than enough for the three of us, especially since Elli eats so little nowadays. I always overestimate how much rice I need to make.”

Shayne lowered his gaze again at the mention of Elliott’s name, but looked up again at the white appliance on the countertop. “That thing is for rice?”

“Oh – yeah, you’ve never seen one of these?” Felix’s eyes lit up a little as he looked at the machine too. “It makes the rice come out sooo soft and fluffy, you have no idea. I fried some chicken earlier to go with it.”

Shayne suddenly recognised the sharp ache that had crept down under his ribs and seemed to have wrapped itself around his insides. He moved a hand from the pocket of his jeans and into the pocket of the hoodie he was wearing – Charlie’s – so he could put a little pressure on his stomach.

“My friend Kazu’s older sister taught me how to fry chicken. It’s called karaage in Japanese,” Felix was continuing. “I definitely don’t do it justice, but I like to think I’ve perfected it in my own way over the years. The coating is just slightly crispy, and the chicken stays juicy on the inside. It goes so well with the rice.”

Shayne held his breath and stared at the black and white floor tiles. He really wanted to think of something to say as he felt his stomach start to cramp.

He wanted words to come out of his mouth and distract from what he knew was coming, but his mind went completely blank except for the hot sting of embarrassment.

The deep, traitorous rumble started under his ribs, and even when he pressed his hand a little harder against his belly, the sound still swelled. The pain twisted deeper into his stomach too, making it hard not to wince.

“Are you okay?” Felix asked quietly, after letting a couple of seconds of silence pass over.

Shayne glanced up, his skin still feeling hot with shame at being caught, not only in the lie about not being hungry, but also in this state of needing something. Felix’s easy smile made the tension in his shoulders loosen slightly.

“How about I put some food aside for you to take up to your room?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Shayne said quickly, scratching at his neck. Despite everything, he had to admit to himself that he felt a bit… relieved, at the thought of being able to eat alone.

“I do, actually.” Felix pointed to his own ears. “Even half-vamps have heightened senses, buddy. Elli and I won’t get any sleep if your stomach’s gonna growl like that all night.”

The humiliation clawed at Shayne’s skin like a physical thing, so overpowering that he thought he was going to finally retch. Madelyn’s voice played over his own thoughts again, her tone so sharp it made him jump on the spot.

If you love making stuff disappear down that throat of yours so much, why don’t you make yourself useful and make sure it’s a demon? Instead of wasting actual food and making a pathetic weakling of yourself –

“I’m kidding, bud.” Felix leaned his elbows on the island in the middle of the kitchen and tilted his head to smile up at him. “Hey, I’m really sorry. Okay? I’m – I’m just an idiot over here, not knowing when to stop talking...”

The end of Felix’s sentence melted off into a chuckle, though it sounded off. Heavy. It didn’t sound like Felix. Shayne’s shoulders tensed again as he realised it was his fault. If he could figure out when to start talking, maybe people wouldn’t get so uncomfortable around him.

His belly started to growl again, though this time he just placed his hand over it, feeling a bit defeated. Felix’s gaze flicked up and he gave Shayne a weak half-smile.

“If I leave food for you, will you eat it?” 

Shayne tried to make himself nod, but when he finally managed to, he also found that tears had sprung to his eyes. He gulped and fought them back, but couldn’t stop his hands from shaking; though he was no longer sure if it was from emotion, or the cold, or the hunger that was clearly sapping his energy. He folded his arms tightly across his middle and stared at the floor tiles again.

“You should...” Felix trailed off, and didn’t start again until Shayne reluctantly met his gaze. “You should talk to Ryan about - about whatever. She acts a bit like a robot, but she’s understanding, and - well, she’s good at fixing problems.”

Shayne nodded wordlessly, curling his arms a little tighter against his stomach as another noisy vibration began. He let himself let out a small groan this time, reckoning it was better than awkward silence.

“I’ll leave yours in the microwave,” Felix said, standing up from where he’d been leaning over the countertop. “You can go, if you don’t want to be here when Elliott comes out.”

Shayne glanced towards the kitchen door, already feeling a little anxious at the thought of seeing Elliott. But like Felix had said, Elliott probably wasn’t going to make the first move, so maybe... maybe Shayne had to. 

“It’s okay, I’ll wait,” he said, swallowing hard as he met Felix’s gaze again. “Do, um, do you need help with anything?”

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 9

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Nalu/cute/fluff/multi-chapter.

Lucy had been startled awake again that morning. Her heart was pounding and her breathing heavy from the same recurring nightmare she dreamt of every so often. A nightmare that had continued to disturb her sleep ever since they'd returned from their last mission, the fateful one where they'd been stalked by Haru's biological father. It always started with him looking for them in the forest. Sometimes her dreams replayed what actually happened, other times it was Haru he'd kidnapped instead of Amelia. Then there were the worst ones where he'd carried out his threats on the children and it made her sick to her stomach, jolting her awake covered in sweat. Each dream always ended the same, Natsu was no where to be seen and she was unable to stop the man from harming the children.

They'd returned from that job two months ago now, and every time Lucy thought back to it, she remembered every word that guy had said and the horrific things he'd planned to do. She'd been so thrown off by who it was, she'd let her guard down and her nightmares were a constant reminder of what could have happened if Natsu hadn't been there to protect her and the girl. What if he'd been a mage? What if it'd been Haru he'd kidnapped? It's those sorts of thoughts that made her question herself and tormented her conscience.

Natsu had become acutely aware of her waking during the night and in order to help her get over it, he'd taken it upon himself to find a solution. She needed something that would bring back her confidence in her abilities, not just as a mage but as a mother who could protect her child without the assistance of others. She needed something where she had to rely on herself to pull her through and what better than a solo mission, Natsu thought it was perfect. He'd had a hard time convincing her, but she'd finally accepted the job he'd picked out. Lucy was about to embark on her first solo job since who knows when and as nervous as she was, she couldn't wait to get back in action and hopefully prove to herself that she was still just as strong as she'd always been.

Natsu had accompanied Lucy to the station, and waited with her. "You doing alright, Luce?" Natsu asked, he knew she was super anxious about going alone, but he wanted her to know that he had every faith in her, he knew she was strong, she always had been, he just needed her to see that.

"Yeah, I just hope it all goes well." She said, a few sweat drops appearing on her brow. She was just glad the mission he'd picked (without her permission, she might add) looked pretty simple, it wouldn't take more than a day to complete, which meant she'd be home late that evening. "Are you going to be okay on your own with Haru?"

"Sure, I'll be fine. Haru and I are gonna have lots of fun! Aren't we, buddy?" He beamed, lifting the smiling baby up to his face. Little Haru spent most of his awake time smiling these days, he was such a happy little guy. At only three months old, he already had his own personality coming through. Natsu chuckled at his adorable expression, nuzzling his nose up against the baby's making him giggle uncontrollably. "Listen Lucy! He's laughing! See, I told you we were gonna have fun!" Natsu couldn't stop smiling, the infants giggle reverberated through the station and it was the cutest noise either mage had ever heard.

"Oh my goodness! That was the sweetest little laugh ever!" Lucy felt her chest warm as she stepped closer to join in on the fun, "Did Daddy make you laugh? He's silly isn't he?" She chuckled, as Natsu handed him to her so that she could have one last cuddle. "Mama's going to miss you so much today!"

"Think of it as a break, Luce. You're a great mom, but you need your space too and then you can tell us all about it when you get home." He grinned at her, trying to relieve her stress somewhat with the approaching train thundering into the station.

She gave Haru one last little kiss on his cheek, before giving him back to Natsu. As she was about to walk away, Natsu grabbed her wrist and drew her to him, placing his hand on the back of her head and tangling his fingers into her hair. "Remember why you're doing this, Luce. You've saved my ass more times than I can count, but you've just gotta believe in yourself again, like I believe in you." Her chest flood with warmth, eyes turning watery from his kind words.

Laying eyes on his beautiful partners face, he kissed her wantonly, heatedly, not caring who was around to see. He smirked against her, gazing at the cute blush that'd crept up onto her skin. Still in each others embrace, they pulled their heads away, lost in their own small bubble.

"Damn you and that mouth of yours! How am I supposed to get on the train looking like this?" She gave him a bashful smile, her eyes flickering between his hot mouth and fiery gaze.

He leaned closer, sporting a sly grin and tickling her ear whilst whispering into it, "Maybe I'll show you more of what my mouth can do later."

Lucy's ears were red and steaming, her entire face felt like it was on fire. How was she meant to concentrate on this job now, when all she was going to be plagued with was erotic images of his hot mouth all over her. He chuckled lowly, leaning back to get a good look at her flushed face. Feeling satisfied with her reaction he let go, wishing her luck as she boarded the carriage and they waved at each other through the window when the train pulled away. It was strange seeing Lucy go off on a mission without him, he'd always accompanied her before, but he knew she needed this, it was for her own good and so, with that in mind he looked down at the gurgling baby, and grinned.

"What do you think, little guy? Where d'you wanna go?" He waited for some sort of response. The baby held his head up from his father's shoulder and smiled once again, "To the guild? Good choice! Daddy was thinking that too! Happy should be there by now." Natsu grinned, turning to walk in the direction of the city.

He wandered slowly through the streets of Magnolia, talking softly to the little one as he showed him all the different market stalls, making sure Haru knew exactly where to get the best food in town. Although he never liked being apart from Lucy, Natsu did enjoy spending his time with just Haru. He loved to show him all the things he found cool and exciting, or spend hours playing with him whilst telling him stories of Igneel or his and the teams past adventures. It was their special bonding time, something Natsu hoped they would continue to do as Haru got older. It was these precious moments that the slayer would cherish for the rest of his life, one's he wished he could've had more of with Igneel, but that was the past and Haru was his future and what a bright one it was turning into.

After finally reaching the guild hall, Gajeel was quick to run over, "Salamander! Are we still on or what?" Referring to a bet they'd made the other day. Natsu had been bored, so challenged Gajeel to see who could use their roar attack for the longest, but before he could follow through with it, Haru had woken up from his nap. "Or do you surrender to the superior dragon?"

"Superior? Ha! Don't make me laugh, Metal head, I just got better things to do." Natsu scoffed, gesturing to the bundle he was carrying, whilst continuing to walk straight passed Gajeel without a second glance.

Gajeel's mouth dropped open, totally dumbstruck. Did the infamous salamander just turn down a bet? The iron dragon slayer was speechless, he couldn't believe his own ears and apparently neither could any other guild member that'd heard him.

"Are you sick, Natsu?" Lisanna asked, putting her hand against his forehead to check his temperature.

"No, of course not. I don't get sick!" He looked up at her hand until she removed it from his head. Checking his temperature wasn't going to work, it was always high. "I feel fine." He reassured her. He sat down at the bar and turned to the crowd gathering around him, staring sceptically at the bewildered looks they were giving him. "What did I do now?" He groaned, rolling his eyes.

"What don't you do, Pinky!" Gray muttered under his breath from across the bar, knowing Natsu would hear him. The fire breather turned swiftly to the smug looking demon slayer and scowled, about to give him a piece of his mind but instead was interrupted by a barrage of comments flying at him from all over the room.

"Uh-oh! He's pussy whipped!" Macao shouted from a nearby bench.

"You're damn right he's pussy whipped, what's she threatened you with? No sex? That'll do it!" Wakaba shouted straight after, then they both began to laugh when Natsu choked on and spat out the drink Mira had just given to him. Luckily his reflexes were quick enough to move Haru out of the way.

"He's on his best behaviour so Lucy gives him some once she gets back!" Cana drunkenly blurted, "Good boy Natsu, you'll be getting your dick wet tonight!"

"Making babies is MANLY!" Elfman cried.

"Who said anything about making babies you big dolt!" Evergreen scolded, smacking Elfman with her fan.

"You're trying for another baby? That's so cute! Haru needs a sibling." Levy said with a little sparkle in her eye.

What the hell were they all going on about? A question Natsu often asked himself with regards to his guild mates. He'd stopped trying to look at each person individually as they spoke and had started to drift off. Is this what Lucy had to put up with every time their relationship was brought up, because, man, did he feel sorry for her! The only thing he could do was wait patiently until they all shut up, because unlike Lucy, he was use to their antics.

"You guys are like vultures…" Natsu sighed, not looking remotely amused whilst raising his eyebrow at them. Haru had started to get tired and began whimpering from all of the commotion. "See, now look what you've all done! Haru was the reason I turned the bet down, not because of whatever you old lechers were calling it." He accused, pointing his finger at a sniggering Wakaba and Macao, then turned back to the others. "And anyway, what's it to all of you what Lucy and I do?" He pulled Haru away from his chest and laid him down in his arms, making the little one comfortable and pulled out a bottle of milk from his backpack to warm up and feed him, watching as the baby's eyes instantly lit up.

"So… you are trying for another baby?" Mira sneaked in there, her eyes like stars at the possibility of that being true. "It's okay, you can tell me."

"Why would I tell you that?" Natsu looked up, confused as to why he'd tell her something that wasn't true, until he realised she'd misunderstood him. "That's not what I meant!"

"But you didn't deny it, so how're we to know?" Levy teased, elbowing Natsu in the arm.

"I think they are! You should hear the noises they make when they think they're alone together." Happy flew over, and started circling Natsu's head, giggling along with some of the girls.

"Happy! You'll upset Haru if you keep doing that!" He growled at the exceed, then turned back to the rest of them. "No, we're not trying for anything. Lucy and I haven't even… er-" He stopped mid sentence as he realised what he was about to say would doom him for all eternity, but by the looks on their faces, it was too late.

"How is that even possible? You've been together for months now, what are you both doing?!" Cana shrieked, making Haru burst in to tears from her racket. She was gobsmacked. How is it they'd been sharing the same bed and not touched each other?

"Oh no, it's okay buddy, don't cry. Cana's just got a big mouth that she can't keep shut." He frowned when Haru refused the rest of his milk, deciding that he wanted to be held against Natsu's chest and have a cuddle instead.

"Natsu, even I have to admit I'm surprised that neither of you have fornicated, I assumed most loving couples did that sort of thing, to, er, procreate or otherwise…" Erza had tried to keep her composure whilst saying that and even though she'd sounded the part, she'd failed miserably by turning the same colour as her hair.

"Forn-a-what now? I don't get what the big deal is here? It's not like I don't wanna, I'm just waiting for Lucy to want it too." He thought he was doing the right thing by waiting for Lucy, was that not what he was supposed to do then?

"Have you not thought that maybe Lucy's waiting for you too? If she's not done that sort of thing before, there's no way she's gonna initiate it with you. You gotta be the man and go for it." Gajeel grinned, making Levy blush.

"Go for it? But wouldn't that scare Lucy off?" He asked, if he knew Lucy would be ready for it then he would have done it ages ago, but he couldn't be sure without asking her directly and there was no way he was going to do that.

"Well you haven't scared her off yet and that's a feat all in itself!" Gray smirked again, man did he love to wind Natsu up.

"Hey droopy! What's that supposed to mean?!" Natsu snarled through gritted teeth.

"Gray, your clothes…" Cana huffed at the ice mage as he looked down at himself and freaked over losing his clothing, then turned back to Natsu, gaining his attention again. "Just go for it and see where it takes you. You never know, you might be pleasantly surprised…" She smirked, like she knew something he didn't.

Natsu had picked up on the subtle cue, and smirked to himself. So Lucy had spoken to them about it? Which was surprising but by the sounds of it, she wanted it just as much as he did. However, it's not like he could do much about it right now, she wasn't there, but she would be later and he couldn't stop his imagination from running wild. However, those lewd thoughts were unfortunately interrupted by the she demon and her sister.

"If you want, Natsu, Mira and I could take the little one tonight, so you and Lucy can spend some time together?" Lisanna offered, she'd been dying to get her hands on the baby and so had her sister. "I imagine being parents is hard work especially without a break every once in a while."

"But, I'm not sure if Lucy would-"

"Lucy would appreciate it as well I'm sure. You could do something romantic for her for when she gets home?" Mira said, smiling at the dragon slayer.

"You got to have time to yourselves every once in a while, Gajeel and I do. It doesn't make you a bad parent for wanting some space." Levy explained. It did sound quite tempting to take them up on the offer, spending a night with just Lucy sounded like heaven.

"Then you got no excuse not to bend her over." Cana laughed, watching as the dragon slayer's face started to redden a little.

"You've always gotta lower the tone!" Natsu said staring at her, before turning back to Lisanna, "Fine, but you forgot about Happy, it's his house too."

"I don't wanna get in the way of your gross kissing, you always sound like you're trying to eat each other. I'm going night fishing, Lily said he'd come with me!" Happy laughed to himself, earning a scowl from Natsu to shut him up, but it quickly turned into a chuckle, shaking his head, that cat would never change.

Natsu spent the afternoon at the bar stuffing himself silly and playing with Haru, when he was awake, and Happy, before it was time to hand the little guy over. He gave Haru a kiss on the cheek and smiled when the baby smiled back at him. He gave him to Mira, gauging his expression to make sure he was alright before he left. He noticed a slight hesitancy from the baby as he stared into the smiling face of the she-demon. But it wasn't long until Mira had managed to win him over allowing Natsu to relax a bit, making his leave he smiled to himself when he heard the baby giggle again at all the weird noises Mira was making.

Once out of the guild, Natsu halted and took a long, deep breath, he was kinda nervous and excited about the night he'd somewhat planned for Lucy. He hoped her job was a success because then she'd be in a good mood as well. He began to walk again, carrying himself all the way home.

Lucy's job had been a triumph, she was so thrilled to be back in action and she was doing it without the help of anyone else, just her and her spirits. The job itself had been relatively easy, it was to transport a load of ancient artefacts across from Hargeon to a small town on the west coast of Fiore, she was requested to keep them safe and stop anyone from trying to steal them. It had been exhausting using her magic for the entire journey but she had completed it, got paid and had just pulled in to Magnolia station.

She couldn't wait to get home to take a nice long shower and see Natsu. It had gotten quite late now and she imagined Haru would be asleep in bed, so she'd have to wait to see him. Lucy was curious to hear how Natsu's day had gone too and wondered briefly if he would make good on his words from earlier.

She felt herself flush at just the very thought of it, would he do it? They'd been together for a few months and they hadn't got passed overly passionate kissing and heated flirting. Lucy absolutely loved how he made her feel but she still wanted to go further, she wanted to experience what it was like to be truly intimate with someone and surely he did to, or was he really that clueless? In her desperation, she'd even gone to Cana for advice which hadn't really helped, she was much too vulgar to have a serious conversation with. It had left her at a dead end, she was too shy about that sort of thing to outright ask for it, but she wanted to do something, even if it wasn't all the way it could be at least some of it.

Lucy had finally reached her house, only to be startled when Natsu seemingly appeared from nowhere, he grinned, pleased to see her home at last. "Hey, Luce. I thought I could smell you." He said, watching her relax a little and smile back at him. "Are you just gonna stand there or do I have to come to you?"

She dropped her bags and ran up to him, jumping into his arms. They kissed fervently and it instantly made Lucy's skin heat up, she really didn't think she'd ever get use to kissing him like that. When they finally pulled away, grinning like idiots at each other, she remembered that she hadn't seen Haru or Happy and wondered where they were. But before she could ask, Natsu took her hand and guided her to the nearby hill top close to their house. Her breath caught in her throat when she laid eyes upon the dazzling sight before her.

Just like the view from their bedroom but even more spectacular, was Magnolia city, all lit up and mimicking the beautiful night sky above them, the stars were out in full force and she could see the constellations clearly. She looked at the ground and noticed a large blanket and a few cushions had been laid out, in just the right spot for stargazing, it was simple but effective and very much Natsu. She realised then that he must've planned this for them and that Haru was probably with one of their friends for the night.

"It's so beautiful! Did you plan this?" She asked, not being able to rip her gaze away from the stunning scenery.

"Sort of, I guess. You always say the stars are brighter from up here, so I figured you'd want to spend some time looking at them." He said, watching her reaction to it all. "Come and sit down, Luce, I made some dinner for you too if you're hungry?" Her face paled at the thought of Natsu wrecking their kitchen, she made a note to check it before they went to bed. "And before you bombard me with questions; no, I didn't mess up the kitchen and Haru is with Mira, he's fine." Natsu said, leading her down onto the blanket and bringing out a basket full of food. "Oh, and Happy's gone night fishing with Lily." He finished, feeling like a responsible adult.

"Well, look at you acting like a grown up and for the record I wasn't going to ask. I'd already guessed that Haru was with someone else, otherwise you wouldn't be so calm. However, I'm still dubious about the kitchen." She chuckled at his sheepish grin, whilst digging into the food to settle her rumbling stomach. "My job was a success by the way. You were right, I really did need that, it felt good to use my magic again. I had fun!"

"Good, did you get any one trying to steal the stuff?" He asked, he was genuinely interested in how her job went, wanting to hear how bad-ass she'd been. Which had always secretly been a huge turn on for him.

"Yeah, loads! I didn't realise the relics were that important. I sat on top of the train and used my Sagittarius star dress to shoot them all as they approached. It was like playing a game…" She continued to tell Natsu all about it, smiling and laughing at all the things that'd happened.

"...and just as we were pulling into the last station, some big burly guy came onto the train and knocked me out of the way. His size took me by surprise at first, but I quickly changed into my Taurus form and beat him. It was like letting all my anxiety out at once." She finished, grinning from ear to ear. "Apart from the train ride, you would have loved it. There must have been over a hundred of them trying to ambush me and I took down every single one of them."

She felt so refreshed telling Natsu about her achievements and he looked so pleased for her, soaking up every word she told him. He could see the little glint in her eyes had returned, the way she was talking about what she did had brought hope to him that her confidence had returned. He stared into her beautiful eyes as they held this new type of vigour, she looked ready to take on the world and just like always, he'd be right there beside her.

After what seemed like hours of talking about their days, they found themselves laying down on the blanket, huddled closely to one another, gazing up at the stars. Lucy felt like a weight had been lifted and now she had time to relax with her dorky partner, and just be themselves for a change. She couldn't remember a time where she felt more at peace then what she did in that moment, she could have stayed there like that, forever.

"Thank you for today, Natsu, it's really helped clear my head of everything that's been troubling me. I should've listened to you all along, I am strong enough, I know I am and just like always, you've been there to help me see it." She said, nuzzling her head further into the crook of his neck. His hand was splayed against her exposed stomach, stroking it lightly. "And laying here like this with you is just the perfect way to end the day."

"Anything to keep you smiling, Luce!" He murmured against her hair. "I'm just glad it all worked out! I told you I believed in you."

"You did and I'm so grateful for it." She beamed, she was so content in that moment. It got her thinking of how precious times like these were, where they could be just Natsu and Lucy, the two best friend turned lovers. "I could stay like this with you forever, but I guess now we have Haru, we'll miss out on times like this. It's a shame we didn't do more of this before becoming parents." It wasn't that they didn't spend time together, they did plenty of that, but it was always as friends not as anything more.

"We won't miss out, Luce. We'll find time to be just us, I promise. Haru won't always be this small, then we'll have all the time in the world to be with each other. I said forever didn't I?" Natsu thought back to when he'd told her that, it'd been when he first came to terms with his feelings for her. It felt so long ago now and so much had changed since then, they'd achieved so much together. However, he understood how she felt, it was a shame they'd both been too dense to see what was in right front of them. But without Haru, they'd still be in denial and who knows how long it would've taken for them both to act.

"Yeah, you did say that." She smiled up at him and kissed his jaw.

Natsu brought her closer, brushing his fingers over her hip, grazing a sore spot and making Lucy hiss suddenly. She flinched at the painful vault that ran through her leg, making her sit up. Natsu bolted upright, concerned by her reaction, he wanted to check her over to make sure she was okay. After a quick scan of her body, he caught sight of a huge dark bruise that'd appeared on her right hip.

"Whoa, Lucy! That's one hell of a bruise!" Natsu was shocked by how big it was, it must have been fresh because that hadn't been there earlier. He brushed his fingers gently over it, earning a small whimper from her, as she tried to hide how painful it was. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." He grimaced as he looked up to her eyes and saw her bravely trying to hold back her tears from the pain it had caused.

"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt that much. I'll be okay." She said as she went to touch it herself, "Ouch! I take it back, that's so sore! It must have been from that huge guy I defeated earlier, he was pretty tough." She yelped, whipping her hand away from the darkened area.

"That bastard! At least you beat him, Luce!" He said smiling at her, trying to lighten the mood. "I'd apply heat to it if I knew it would help, but I don't think it will. You need ice on that."

"Hmm, looks like I'll have to go and find some ice then…" She said slyly. Putting her finger to her lip, she put on a cute thinking face. "Do you know of anyone in particular, that could be of assistance, Natsu?" She pretended innocence, struggling to hold her smile down when she saw Natsu's face turn into one of disgust.

"Don't even go there!" He raised his eyebrow at her, realising that she was trying to provoke him, but after all of her past failed attempts at doing just that she definitely wasn't going to succeed this time either.

"Go where? I only asked if you knew of anyone that could provide me with ice, or would you prefer to see me suffer?" She said, moving slowly closer to him, careful not to touch the bruise. She put on her best innocent smile as she looked deep into his eyes through her lashes.

"I think you know my answer already, Lucy. And as much as it would kill me to say it…" His eyes bore deep into hers, his hands clutched both sides of her head and gently stroked her skin. His face remained calm and serious as he spoke, "I'm sorry, Luce, but I'd have to let you suffer." He murmured, flicking his nose against hers, before moving back a bit.

She gasped, watching his lips split into a mischievous grin, "You're so mean! How could you? And here I was thinking you loved me." She joked. It's only when she noticed Natsu's eyes go wide that her own mirrored his, her hands shot up to her mouth when she realised what she'd said out loud. "N-No, wait, I-I, er, that's not, I d-didn't mean…" Feeling herself become quickly flustered, she started babbling, trying but failing to make up any excuse for what she'd blurted.

Natsu tilted his head at her and furrowed his brows whilst she rambled on, confused by what she was trying to tell him, "Didn't mean what, Luce?" He asked.

She stopped her erratic talking instantly, "What I said, did you not hear me?" Was he pretending that he hadn't heard her? Her heart sank a little, maybe he wasn't ready for that yet? She felt her mood dampen, who was she trying to kid? He really was clueless. She went to stand, her painful hip pushed to the back of her mind, no longer caring about the discomfort as she tried to adjust to being on her feet. "Never mind, Natsu."

Just as she was about to turn she felt a warm hand wrap around her wrist, stopping her from walking off, but she was no longer in the mood for his antics. "Wait, don't go! I heard what you said, Luce." He said, almost frantically. He stood and took a step closer, hand cupping her cheek, totally transfixed by the radiant glow of her glossy brown eyes, wavering back and forth between them. "And you're right… I do love you."

She gasped, not actually expecting him to say it. "You love me?" She blushed a little but not caring about her pink skin. He loved her? Natsu Dragneel loved her? Why was it so surprising? That was usually how relationships developed, yet she still couldn't believe what her ears were hearing.

"Now who isn't listening?" He grinned fondly, taking in her gorgeous stunned features, with his hand still on her cheek, rubbing softly at her delicate skin. "I wouldn't lie to you, weirdo. I said it because I meant it." He brought her head closer to his, their lips brushing together and curling up into a tender smile, "You mean everything to me, Lucy."

Lucy's mind had turned to mush, she felt her knees turn weak, like they were about to collapse. She clung to his jacket to steady herself and wrap her head around what he'd just told her. She didn't know what to do with herself, she was so filled with joy it was making it hard to think straight, but luckily Natsu was there to save the day. He pressed his mouth to hers, slowly bringing her down until she was laying against the blanket, never breaking contact. He caged her between the soft floor and his hot body, overwhelming her lips, it was a feeling like no other. She wanted to sate his hunger for her, to be completely and utterly consumed by him and have him gorge on every part of her body until there was nothing left except pure, sweet bliss.

Unable to control her inner desires any more, she snaked her hands up his body and ever so slowly unzipped his jacket until his front was completely exposed. The cool air against his burning hot skin seemed to shock him at first, stopping in his tracks when he felt her colder hands lay flat against his chest. Disconnecting from her mouth and gazing deep into her eyes, it seemed like he was looking for something, a sign maybe? Or a reason to her actions? Usually, she wouldn't have been so forward, but now that he'd confessed his love for her, she didn't want to back down, no matter how inexperienced and nervous she was, but he still didn't look too convinced.

"Is this really what you want, Lucy? There's no pressure to do anything if you don't wanna. We can just have a bit of fun?" He spoke tenderly to her, wanting to show his utmost sincerity, because this wasn't some one night fling. He wanted to make sure she was actually ready for it, and not just doing it because Cana or Mira had told her she should be, and definitely not because she thought that this was what he wanted. "We can just start slow, then see where it goes."

Lucy's chest flooded with nervous energy, he was so sweet sometimes, and she definitely wanted this, she'd wanted it for the longest time, but her nerves were starting to get the better of her. "Of course I want this! I love you, Natsu. I've loved you for so long and now I want to show you just how much." She rested her hands on his broad shoulders, her words made his stomach do back flips and then she smiled, the most beautiful shy smile appearing on her smooth features and it took his breath away."I've just never done this before and I'm kinda nervous is all."

"I know, Luce, neither have I, but we can learn together. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, your trust means everything to me and I would never break that." He spoke lowly, almost like a whisper. She nodded back at him, smiling sweetly at his words.

He leaned back down to her mouth and kissed her softly and full of passion for the girl he adored so much. It wasn't long before the kiss became more needy but it still held the same amount of love in it, because that's what he intended to do, make love to her, whether that be tonight or any other night. Natsu loved Lucy with every fibre of his being and she deserved his very best efforts.

He made his way down to her neck, paying extra attention to all the areas he knew made her squirm. Her hands went straight into his hair, while his were laid next to her head. Travelling down to his shoulders, she hooked her fingers under his open jacket and pushed it off of him, hearing it crumple on the floor. Wanting to feel his hard muscles against her skin, Lucy reached down to her own top and slowly pulled it over her head, forcing Natsu to detach himself from her. He pulled back a bit to gaze over her slender form, and damn, was she stunning! She could make any man hers if she truly wanted, but she'd chosen him and for that, he would be forever grateful.

He looked down to Lucy's chest and noticed they were still encased in her bra, that was no good! He wanted to get a birds eye view and that stupid bit of material was stopping him. He smirked up at Lucy, as an idea popped into his head. He hooked his finger around the material and in a second her chest was on fire, burning the bra away, but not hurting Lucy, exposing her enormous chest to him and all she could do was shriek at the sudden warm sensation on her skin.

He seemed pleased with himself but she never got a chance to scold him before his mouth dived down to her nipple and latched on, flicking his tongue over it. Her mouth dropped open and inhaled sharply at the new sensation, her head flung back as she arched herself a little into the air, pushing more of herself into him. His free hand came up to play with the other one, making Lucy moan out loud. Natsu felt himself respond to the noise she'd made to the point where it was now very obvious in his pants. He was so turned on from watching her enjoy herself, it was a stunning sight to behold and he could only imagine what having sex with her would be like.

He released the nipple from his mouth but kept his hand firmly on the other one as he began to make his descent to her stomach. Her creamy skin was so sensitive, and so deliciously sweet, her scent was ever so strong right now and it was overwhelming his senses the closer he got to her legs. He finally reached the band of her skirt, looking up to Lucy to make sure they were both in sync.

"P-Please don't burn it…" She whimpered out quickly as he continued to play with her nipple.

He smirked at her, she could barely get the words out, and all he was doing was playing with her breast. He removed the skirt, the proper way, as swiftly as possible, leaving her thigh high socks on and taking off her boots to make her more comfortable. She was now laying before him in nothing but her skimpy (pointless, he thought) underwear and some thigh high socks and what a sight it was. His cock twitched again, he could feel the blood rushing from his head down to his groin as his arousal began to take over. He was glad for self control because, by god, was it difficult seeing her like that.

He was having a hard time controlling the heat radiating off of him, which she was glad for because the air had a bit of a chill to it. He was staring at her, like she was some delicate piece of jewellery that might break if touched in the wrong way, but she missed the contact and so proceeded to help him along. She reached down and slowly took off her underwear until only the socks remained on her body. She felt her face blush like crazy, but couldn't take her eyes off of his face. He looked mesmerised by her, he'd seen her naked a hundred times before and yet it all felt so new. He gave her a soft smile as he began kissing her again, making his way down from her hips, to her inner thigh, nipping at her sensitive skin. He edged closer and closer to the area her overpowering scent was strongest until he could go no further.

"P-Please, Natsu, touch me. I want you to touch me." Her voice soft and wavering as she looked down at him, her heart pounded uncontrollably when she saw how close he was to her.

"Touch you where, Lucy? Show me." He said, he wanted to get this right, but with having no previous experience a little guidance was needed until he got the hang of it.

Lucy felt herself flush even more as she opened her legs wide, giving him the full view of her nether region. She reached her hand down, using her fingers to separate her lips to reveal her swollen clit. Now this was an area he'd definitely not seen before, but still felt compelled to see what that would taste like and moved his face down to where she was showing him. He held her legs apart and encased her clit with his mouth and began to suck lightly, using his tongue to swirl over and around it, whilst keeping his gaze on Lucy's face. Her eyes instantly rolled to the back of her head and let out a long breathy moan. Her hands landed back in his hair, pulling and tugging as he continued his onslaught, his warm tongue felt like heaven.

"Yes, Natsu, right there, i-it feels so good…" She mewled, totally lost in the pleasure he was giving her.

He wanted to elicit more of those erotic sounds from her and make her tell him just how amazing she felt, it was like music to his ears knowing that he was the one causing her to feel that way. Natsu grazed his fingers lightly over her entrance and watched her breathing become harsh and heavy, then ever so slowly pushed a single digit into her. He could feel her tense around him and she groaned at the new sensation. Once she seemed to relax, he added another finger, stretching her even more, but this time her expression turned strained.

"Does that still feel good, Luce?" He asked, he didn't want to hurt her, that wasn't the point of this.

"Mm-hmm… really good." She breathed, bucking her hips up a little, "Fuck me with your fingers, Natsu."

Smirking at her choice of words, she was quite the dirty talker, if she liked that then he'd have to up his game too. "As you wish." he murmured, going back down to suck on her clit, whilst moving his hand back and forth inside of her, making her groan loudly over and over again.

She could feel the tension building up within her and to add to her sweet torture, the more she moaned the faster he would go. The feeling of his fingers massaging the inside of her walls was enough to almost send her over the edge, and he could see she was close. Natsu was enjoying watching her teeter on the edge, he kissed and nipped his way up her body, fingers continuing to work their magic before he eventually found himself face to face with a very flushed and burning hot Lucy, and fuck, did she look absolutely breathtaking in this state.

She could feel her climax approaching and it was so intimate with their eyes locked on each other as he brought her closer and closer. He leaned down to her ear and sucked on her lobe, "That's it, Lucy, come on my hand, show me how good it feels." He growled against her, sending a shiver through her spine.

Hearing him speak like that made her snap. Tremors racked Lucy's body as her orgasm took hold, tensing around his fingers and crying out into the night. She felt her mind go blank, while her eyes rolled into the back of her head, it was like nothing she'd ever felt. He halted his movements, allowing her to ride it out with his fingers still firmly inside her. He gawked at her writhing body beneath him, totally captivated by how incredible she was. When she finally came down from her high, Natsu was staring down at her with the biggest smirk on his face, obviously pleased with himself that he'd managed to make her climax.

"That was so hot!" He growled against her mouth, claiming her lips briefly and removing his fingers from her. "We should take this indoors." He grinned playfully, carefully lifting her from the ground. Natsu chucked her over his shoulder, ignoring her protests to put her down and took her inside. Now the fun could really begin!

Hi! Sorry this took a bit longer to come out, I must have rewritten it about 6 times in the end, but it's here now, thank god! :D And don't worry, I haven't cheated you out of smut, this chapter was long enough without adding any more to it, so you will be getting the full, unadulterated smuttiness you've probably been waiting for, or not if you don't like that sort of thing. I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading! :)

[arsonistslut]

Chapter 9: Reminders of Tragedy

"Hey, Jane!"

"Hey, Ingrid! How is my favorite person in the world?"

Jane's girlfriend of a good 9 years now happily walked over and kissed her on the cheek, beaming as she always seemed to do whenever she looked at her lover.

"Amazing now that you're here. Hey, you wanna go to that party Randy's having at his house tomorrow?"

"He's having a party? I didn't figure him the partying type."

"Despite the whole business parents thing, he is a real party animal. Hey, you know what's weird about the party?"

"What is?"

"He invited that Jeff guy there..y'know, that creep with the Conduct Disorder?"

She gestured to the tall, dark clothed young adult that sat alone at a lunch table nearby, playing with a switchblade.

"Hey, I remember him being pretty nice.."

"Remember him? You two date at some point?"

"We did, actually, wayyyy back."

Jane smirked when she saw the look of surprise and pride on Ingrid's face when she realized she guessed right.

"What was he like?"

"He was a sweetheart. Cheesy, but a sweetheart. Hell, even cheesier than me."

"Jane, you've carved our names into multiple trees. There's no out-cheesing that."

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how we met, either. My dad was out mowing the lawn, and he accidentally ran over a rock and it hit Jeff in the head."

"Oof, that sounds bad.."

"I visited him in the hospital with my parents one time, and I will never forget what he said to me as a pick-up line."

"What did he say?"

Jane cleared her throat, before trying her darndest to do an impression of a young Jeff.

"Did you come from heaven? Because you look like an angel!"

Ingrid couldn't help but let out a giggle as she quickly pulled Jane into her arms.

"Aww, that sounds so cute!"

"It was!"

Jeff himself was hearing this conversation from afar, the little tricks he played with his knife not an adequate distraction from the constant reminder of what could've been.

"I don't think he handled our breakup too well..nobody really wanted to treat him as anything other than a freak after his diagnosis went public. One time, I heard him ranting to his brother about how it was hypocritical of the school to do a health topic on depression when they wouldn't stop judging him for his CD."

"Sheesh, it sounds like he's been through a lot..poor kid could use a friend."

"It doesn't really look like he wants any. Liu isn't sitting with him..that's weird, Liu always sits with him."

"Prolly had an argument or something, you know siblings."

"Yeah.."

The day continued without incident, Jeffrey getting home at the same time as usual..yet his mind was not thinking about the party, or school, he was thinking about Jane and Ingrid. Why was Jane so special that she had everything she wanted in life and not him? What crime did he commit that landed him with absent parents, demonization from his peers, and a fucking smile cut into his face? That love, that relationship they had..Jeff came to the conclusion that it was something to be destroyed.

Liu, meanwhile, was..struggling with something. Something he never expected would be a problem in his life. Lately, he began having these thoughts..these violent, awful, intrusive thoughts, thoughts that seemed to be begging to be spoken aloud, the actions they describe seeming to grow more and more appealing as time passed.

Kill Randy.

Maim Keith.

Skin Troy like the cattle he is.

Maybe if he gave the thoughts an identity, they'd be easier to handle, he thought as he thought of a name for these urges..one stood out from the others. Not at all goofy, but not as laughably edgy as the other options.

Chapter 10: Enter Sully

Liu ended up speaking to Sully for the entire night..and even into the morning. When Jeff woke up the next morning, he could already hear Liu downstairs talking with..someone.

"It's sad, really..so concerned about themselves..no time spared for you."

"I-I guess..but they've got more important things to worry about.."

"Child, they do not have a thought in them about you. They're all self centered egomaniacs that would rather get pushed around by a genetic failure of a human rather than do anything about their situation!"

"That's not true, Sully! You're lying!"

A horrible growl soon came from the room.

"We are friends, child! Friends do not lie to each other, do they?"

"I..I guess not..goodbye for now, Sully."

"Where are you going?"

"I..I need some time to think."

Liu got back up, jumping from fear when he saw his brother staring at him.

"Holy shit, Jeff! You scared me!"

"I bet."

Awkward silence soon filled the dining room where they stood.

"Hey, Jeff...?"

"What?"

"I'm..sorry about punching you, and saying all that shit about you. I shouldn't have done that."

"No shit, Sherlock."

The elder brother turned around and began walking back up to his room, but not before his brother called out to him.

"Hey..is there any way I could make things up between us?"

"You could make things up by not betraying my trust again. You're all I've got, Liu..don't pull a Jane and fuck it up for me."

Liu always did question that grudge Jeff held for his ex, after all, he chatted with her in the past, and it always seemed like she genuinely enjoyed what her and Jeff had, and she always felt bad for leaving him like that. Hell, it sounded like it was as painful for her to leave him as it was for him to find out that his girlfriend left him. He was tempted to point that out, but he feared ruining things with his brother again.

"Alright.."

Chapter 11: A Hell of A Party

When Jane and Ingrid rounded the corner home, they found..a disturbing sight. A dead raccoon laying in the middle of the street, it's guts ripped out of it's body and thrown aside, Jeff gleefully pawing through the freshly murdered animal, childishly gawking and giggling over the corpse.

"Hey, Jeffrey! What happened here, what the fuck did you do?!"

Ingrid cried out to the blood-soaked kid, who looked up at her, confusion riddling his bloodied face.

"I killed a raccoon. It's not like anyone's gonna miss it."

"Why, you little-"

Ingrid slapped Jeffrey right across the face, knocking him to the ground as Jane held her girlfriend back and tried to keep the situation from escalating any further.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"You killed a helpless animal, you freak!!"

"I oughta kill you next, you piece of-"

Woods choked on his own spittle as he made his threat, never having been particularly..elegant with his words.

"Oh, really?! I'll kick your teeth down your fucking throat!"

"I swear to God, I'll strangle you with your own fucking intestines!!"

When Jeff reached for his switchblade, Jane panicked and grabbed her lover's hand, running off with her as Woods continued to scream at them.

"Your last words better be some Mark Twain shit, because it's going on your tombstone!! You hear me?!"

That experience was all on Jane's mind as she watched Jeff steadily get more and more wasted by the bonfire outside as time went on, at least, what glimpses she could catch of him when she wasn't busy dancing with the other students. Randy was also outside, reluctantly playing Truth Or Dare with the others as well as his increasingly hot and bothered enemy.

"Ok, Jeff!"

"Whaddup, baby?~"

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare, hit me with the worst ya got!"

"Slow dance with Randy."

"What the-no! I'm straight as a arrow, dude!"

"So is spaghetti until it gets wet~"

"Jeff, never say that again."

"C'mooooon, do the dare, ya pussy~ I don't bite!~"

Woods took his time getting up, but still had enough cognitive function to put on Grover Washington Jr's "Just The Two Of Us", to try and improve the mood, but Randy still wasn't having any of it. In a last ditch effort to try and seduce Randy, Jeffrey just..up and took his shirt off. That'll get things going, right? No, it didn't. Despite some swooning from some of his classmates, Randy himself didn't want any part of this. He was a few drinks deep as well, so in a drunken haze, he grabbed one of the bottles of booze they had, took a running start, and smashed it right over Jeff's head. The problem with that is that they were only a couple feet away from a bonfire, so when Jeff stumbled backward, he fell right into it, the alcohol on his exposed flesh quickly igniting. He quickly burst into flames, screaming and running off as the fire quickly seared his body, every remaining nerve ending he had that wasn't burnt away shocking his body with waves of pain. He could feel his scalp burning up once his hair was scorched away, finally finding solace in a nearby puddle that put out the flames. Jeff could see his life flashing before his eyes..his family, his brother..that was all he could see. As Randy and the other students' screams of horror faded away, Woods silently cursed himself for not doing anything more with his life..a single bloody tear rolled down his face as he shut his eyes for what he believed would be the last time.

Chapter 12: The End Of The Beginning

Suddenly..he was in some sort of void. The ground beneath him was black as pitch, and footsteps began to grow ever closer to him. When Jeff looked to see who was approaching, he found no earthly being waiting for his attention. When he laid his eyes on whatever approached, the previously totally dark void began to turn a sickly red. What stood before him was a monster unlike any other, an otherwordly monster many believed to be a mere tall tale.

HE COMES.

[goodpeachtea]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥. (𝟎𝟐)

 Summary: People could say that Baby was crazy, so they could say that hell is more preferable than spending a day with her. Baby agreed. But no one could say that the girl was not a genius or that she was like everyone else. Baby Jones was special - yes, she could be a nicer special type, but anyway, special.

Couple: Spencer Reid x OC.

Words: 4.2K

Warnings: PTSD. Panic attack. Mentions of suicide, drugs, torture and kidnapping. Cigarettes. Under-age drinking.

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            (𝟎𝟐). 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖳𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖧 𝖠𝖭𝖭𝖨𝖵𝖤𝖱𝖲𝖠𝖱𝖸

   BABY’S CHRISTMAS WERE NEVER FORECASTED. This phenomenon happened because December 25th was not just what everyone celebrated as Christmas, but it was three more things: Baby Jones’ birthday, the anniversary of the death of her family, and the anniversary of the day she was kidnapped. Believe what you want, the little redhead has every right to enter a state of depression, anger and madness while it snows outside and normal children celebrate the date with their absolutely alive parents.

   That day for Jones was always a roller coaster of events. On the first anniversary of the-day-that-everything-went-wrong, in 1998, the 9-year-old, so young but so broken, tried to commit suicide. In the second, all the ideas that went through her head were homicide. In the fifth, Baby Jones caused a commotion and despair by fleeing the Sunshine Orphanage to visit 19 graves in Washington, covering 10 miles. In the ninth, Baby ended up in the emergency by alcohol intoxication.

   The Tenth Anniversary was the current one. Honestly, Baby was really committed to the (almost) promise she made to David Rossi. She was, really. If you asked her what happened that day, she wouldn’t be able to explain. Not because she was drunk, drugged or insane. She was none of those previous things - so I don’t lie, I will say that at least she was not at the apex of any of those things. Baby was just so sad that something needed to be done. And she did. Oh, she certainly did.

   Everything could have happened. Literally, everything. Nothing was a limit for Baby Jones, especially a Baby Jones at the peak of her grief. What happened was particularly unique. Of all the scenarios that the (now) short-haired redhead could imagine, she didn’t expect to end up handcuffed in the FBI building on Christmas Day.

DECEMBER 24TH, 2007.

   Baby hated snow. Don’t come up with all that magic, beauty and blah blah blah. For Baby, almost nothing was worse than Christmas Eve and everything that involved that day - the tree, decorations, snow, music and the hated Christmas spirit. The only Jones alive made a point of trying to bring everyone down with her in those days (she didn’t try very hard, but she didn’t pretend to be happy to cheer up the rest of the kids) and of course she couldn’t, because “Christmas is such an incredible time”. In December, she just wanted to die.

– You’re so boring, Baby! – Exclaimed Max, a 7-year-old boy who also lived in the Sunshine Orphanage, nudging the older one, who sighed deeply, concentrating all her strength so as not to strangle him. – You should help us decorate the Christmas tree, we never have something like this here. It’s fun, I promise! Stop being a killjoy!

– Max, have you heard of the phrase “fuck off”?

   Baby smiled when she saw the brat’s astonished face when he heard her swear, watching him run away from her and towards one of the women who took care of the children at the Orphanage. “Denise, Baby said a bad word again!”, he shouted as the redhead rolled her eyes and muttered “blabbermouth”. Denise, a blonde woman who loved all the control she could exercise over children, gave Jones a sharp look, who showed her tongue as a naughty child - and it’s very difficult to find differences between Baby and naughty children.

– Go straight to your room. Congratulations, you just lost your dinner!

   The almost 18-year-old teenager raised her eyebrows, holding the older woman’s disapproving look at her. She got up from the couch she was on, showing the middle finger to little Max, who was laughing at the girl’s misfortune. “If you want to eat breakfast, I advise you to improve this behavior, young lady!”, the blonde said, with an angry expression. Baby J. smiled fakely at the woman as she walked up the first few steps, watching the other narrow her eyes. The girl with golden red hair went up the stairs, mumbling “bitch” as she went to her room.

   Baby slammed the door of her room hard - not to provoke the controlling blonde downstairs, but out of pure tension that agonized her head and body. She locked it quickly, closing the windows and lowering the blind, knowing that even if she smoked the smell would dissipate and no one would bother her for hours on end (besides she herself). Bored, she looked around her, watching her room for something to do.

   The teenager with hair that reminded the dawn and freckles that were golden specks on her skin arched her eyebrows as she captured an idea from her brain about what to do to pass the time. She bit her lip, carefully locking the door, listening to the sounds of plates and cutlery downstairs. She knelt beside her bed, searching with her hands for the notebook that were taped to the wood of the furniture.

   The notebook was almost a diary for her. There, the most personal things in her life were sheltered. Written in angled and spaced handwriting, there were no emotional reports about Baby’s feelings or her complaints about her day-to-day life. Those paper sheets filled messily and with determination were all about the informations on the Jones Case that could take her to a closure.

   She glanced at the digital clock nearby, dinner time being 7 pm. Jones then looked at the black-lined notebook, prepared to read the information and theories she had already memorized backwards, hoping to get something new so that everything would be cleared up before the anniversary of her family’s death. The redhead flipped through the pages with frequently used marks, more and more aggressive as the time went, the realization slowly slapping her in the face that her hands were tied and she would not be able to solve the crime that defined her life - and the death of 19 people. Baby looked at her watch again, widening her eyes and punching the floor she was sitting in frustration, noting that it was already 11 pm and the whole house was quiet and dark.

   The teenager felt a little better when she realized that the little orphan Sophie was not going to sleep in the same room with her that night, the two women who took care of all 10 children who lived in the house knowing about Baby’s dangerous historic on Christmas Day and preventing a possible accident with the little girl. Jones got up from the cold floor, beginning to feel her heart stir and her fingers that did not want to stop moving as she paced. Baby thought again about her failure with her family, the tenth anniversary that she would not be able to resolve her inner demons and offer a worthy end for her relatives. She punched the door with an adrenaline rush, no longer caring whether the noise would bother the other habitants of the residence.

   Everyone knew the rules that were not spoken. That day, don’t mess with Jones. It doesn’t matter if you are only concerned about her health or if you want to cheer her up. No. Do not try.    The nightmare that was that day started with the fact that during the 24 hours she endured, no time she would be able to sleep. That’s how it started. Four red zeros on her alarm clock signaled that Baby Jones was doomed to misery for the next few moments. The redhead sighed, murmuring an ironic “happy birthday” to herself, blowing out the fire from the match she used to light a cigarette. She stared into nothingness, putting death between her lips and knowing that things were going to change - for better or for worse.    All that was needed was a brief glance. In a second, she was in her room smoking and trying not to cry. The next, Baby was back. Panic invaded her chest when she realized that she was lying on the floor, her eyes going to the clock hanging on the wall with a splash of blood: 20:11.    It’s amazing how a situation can change from one minute to the next. It’s amazing how the Jones family couldn’t be happier at 8:10 pm and a minute later they faced the worst moment of their life (or the end of it) face to face. And it all happened for Baby.    A shot was the first thing that warned the Jones that everything would go downhill. The immediately dead body of Mary Jones - Baby’s loving aunt - fell to the floor with a loud thump, screams being heard throughout the suburban home. Baby Jones went to the floor under the influence of her parents, Marie Ann and Thomas, who saw an armed shadow in front of the open door. At the same time, everything and nothing went through their minds, adrenaline and agony dominating their senses. They wanted to send their daughter run away from the house, while their eyes alternated among all their children: she, Amelie, Owen and little AJ, who was on the other side of the room, with no idea what was going on. But when they looked at Baby again, all they managed to pay attention to was the stranger behind her.

   The eight-year-old girl felt hands grabbing her as her parents screamed, asking for mercy. She struggled, feeling the hot tears on her face and the tightening the long, manicured nails on her skin, leaving marks because of the fight that had already been won. It was when his father advanced on the woman with black hair as the night that the second shot was heard, Baby feeling a pain she never felt before - and probably never will again - gasping and sinking in countless feelings. Little Jones sobbed, watching Marie Ann cry over her husband’s dead body.    Baby J.’s vision was blurred, everything was spinning and her screams of horror did not stop the situation, which happened in the blink of an eye. One, two, three, four shots. No way out. The little redhead couldn’t breathe and the strong, motherly grip of the woman who held her only made it worse. Baby saw three unknown men at her home and suddenly those three were almost all the males left. Giving up on struggling, Jones only managed to cry desperately when she saw her sister walking away in shock from Baby’s lifeless older brother, Owen. 

   Baby opened her eyes, feeling the damp on her face and the lump in her throat. She felt her chest rise and fall at an accelerated frequency and her head sinking into the pillow, gulping and scrambling up from the bed, drying the tears that seemed not to end. When trying to get up, the girl fell to the ground without even a resistance, feeling the tremor in her legs and hands. Jones put her hands on her chest, unable to breathe and panicking even more.

   So she just did what she needed to do. Baby cried. Panic spread throughout her body as she sobbed and searched for air, tears making everything worse. In fetal position, she clasped her hands tightly, not from physical pain but from mental pain, feeling her nails pierce the skin.

   Baby felt like she was going to die. “Maybe it’s better this way, maybe I have to give up,” she thought, her body softening and the feeling of something in her hand that was under the bed. The only Jones alive closed her eyes strongly and deeply regretted it, feeling the tightness in her heart get worse.

– Oh, my love, don’t cry.

   She felt the fingers running through her vivid hair, the tightness on her wrist and the tears in her eyes. “Please, let me out!”, she cried out with all her might, shifting and listening to the frustrated sigh of the man in front of her. “Why can’t you just be a good girl, huh? A good daughter? I love you, Baby, but… you’re just making things worse for you”, Jones ignored the man, who was still touching her hair affectionately, speaking tenderly.

– You are not my father and you never will be! You killed him and I hate you! – She yelled in the midst of tears, the scary Ryan Copper’s face tensing and his jaw clenching.

– I don’t accept this behavior under my roof! I struggle, I fight, I do everything to give you a great life and that’s what I get. – He squeezed the girl’s orange hair, pulling her face closer and staying millimeters away. – If this behavior does not improve by tomorrow morning, you will have serious problems, young lady. Honey, feel free. 

   Blue eyes blinked in fear, shifting her attention from the man who went from one extreme to the other in a snap of the fingers to the woman with black hair and a disturbing smile, a knife in one hand and a whip in the other. It was only Baby’s first day there, but she knew she wasn’t going to last long and maybe she would never leave that filthy, empty cellar again. Baby Jones heard the whip crack before she felt it burn on her skin.

   She opened her eyes, pulling what was under her bed into view. Baby felt the dust on the piece of photographic paper, smiling weakly and feeling the agitation in her chest lessen. She saw her parents hugging each other tightly, smiling at each other. Her mother, Marie Ann, had a big belly, sheltering who would become AJ in the future. The older brothers were on the floor, laughing and fighting over something and Baby was beside them, concentrated on a Rubik’s Cube.

   Her breathing was soon regulated and she bit her lip in a failed attempt to hold her tears, looking at that photo and soon holding it close to her chest. “I miss you”, Baby J. whispered so low that even she couldn’t hear herself. The girl spent about an hour in that position, crying and calming down, in a cycle, again and again. When she finally had the courage to get up, she felt dizzy, remembering the horrifying touches in her hair from one of the men who had kidnapped her. That affection seemed so real that it scared Baby more than anything. She felt a chill on her back, terror. The girl could feel everything even after 10 years. Those despicable hands in her hair, face, arm.

   Baby rushed to the bathroom, kneeled on the toilet coughing and throwing up. The day hadn’t even started and it was already one of the worst in Baby’s life (and that was a tough competition). The teen weakly got up, looking to herself in the mirror and just knowing what to do to repress that memories of the touches. Being a nervous wreck, she rushed to grab the scissors she always used to cut the hair of the other kids in the house - as lovely as this may seem (and it is), Baby make sure to threat the youngers with the sharp object, not wanting to be seem as a big sister. The tears were nearly stopping while cutting sloppily more than 10 inches of red hair, not caring by the mess she made on the sink or the length her hair was going to be. Jones didn’t really care for her hair, but made sure the pixie cut was acceptable.

– Booze. Yeah, I need booze. – The eighteen-year-old girl whispered, rubbing her eyes and preparing to be extremely silent.

   In a house with so many children - and one of them being the problematic Jones - the two women who lived there needed a little alcohol from time to time (having to hide for the same reason that they needed to have it). Baby grabbed her bag, making a grimace at the sound of a creak and snore as she opened her bedroom door, freezing for a moment, not wanting to be caught and punished. She went down the stairs carefully, kneeling on the floor and facing the last step when she reached the first floor. “Eureka!”, murmured a excited Baby, “or should I say “tequila!”?”.

   When she sneaked out of what they said was her home, it didn't take long for Baby to end up in the same spot of a few previous nights, when she got a call from the longtime acquaintance, David Rossi. This time, her brain didn't work the same way, especially after several sips of the alcohol in her hands. Baby Jones had her (not so) great idea when she was halfway through the bottle, getting dizzy when she got up quickly, totally excited about what she was going to do. Come on, she was already eighteen! Jones could do whatever she wanted, right?

   Baby J. took the first bus of the day out of Alexandria with the money she had saved, sitting away from the few other passengers and sipping from the bottle of tequila hidden in her bag from time to time. In a little over an hour, the young and not-so-innocent girl headed for her final destination.

– Excuse me! Good night, I want to visit David Rossi, if possible. – Baby said in her sweetest tone, winking her blue eyes at the receptionist.    The woman smirked, raising her eyebrows, not even bothering to look at Baby. It was not the rarest thing in the world for people to try to enter the FBI building and visit the famous author who was Rossi. "Agent Rossi is not expecting company and there's no autograph session going on now, child. You can go out that door," the brunette nodded the exit with her head as Baby Jones grimaced, determined to enter that building in Quantico. – You didn't understand, he knows me. – The 18-year-old explained, still trying to win over the receptionist, even though she suspected that the facade of being an innocent and kind child would not catch on. – Miss, please leave or I will call the security.    "Hey, now you're just being ... you know what? Nevermind! Call Rossi and say that Baby Jones has come to visit. Go, see for yourself, call!", Baby crossed her arms, almost tripping over her own feet as she leaned against the desk of the secretary who was beginning to have doubts if the girl was really just a fan. Reluctantly, the brunette, Miss Parker, picked up the phone and dialed the number of the Italian-American's office, staring at Jones with suspicion throughout the process. – Sir? Yes, there someone here that claims know you, her name is Baby Jones. Yes, Baby Jones, sir. – She seemed nervous about talking to David, looking at the floor constantly, looking up at the redhead with interest. – Of course, sir. Guard! – Hanging up the call, secretary Parker nodded to a large, menacing FBI security, Baby's eyes widening. – But I did not do anything! That jerk! Rossi didn't ...?

   “Follow Miss Jones up to the fifth floor", the older one said to the guard, who waved quickly, looking at the smaller one whose smile was growing on her face. Parker handed the girl an FBI visitor's badge, trying not to doubt David Rossi's sanity by letting the girl go up to the BAU upon hearing Baby exclaim "that's what I'm talking about!". 

   The eyes of serious security remained on the petit girl the entire time, noticing her strange behavior and trying to solve the mystery about whether that slight smell of alcohol he smelled was just an impression. The ride in the elevator was quick to the relief of Jones, who soon left the cubicle and smiled awkwardly at the man twice as tall. "I need... you know, go to the bathroom," Baby laughed embarrassed to the security (her acting skills were surprisingly good when it came to trick someone).

– Go to the end of the corridor and turn right, miss.

– Thank you very much. – Baby smiled and took quick, sloppy steps to the pointed direction, looking around and smirking to herself, noticing the calm movement of the building and no people around her.

   She read the signs on the doors, looking for a specific room, hoping that the seriously frightening security guard wouldn't come looking. Baby gave a slight "hooray" when she found what she came to, biting her lips when remembering that she needed to be silent, looking around and entering the agile room like a cat. The redhead clapped her hands excitedly when she saw a room full of files and a computer full of horrible cases that she would love to have a look at.

   Soon, Jones was digging through the numerous unresolved case documents, having already looked at the resolved case reports - she liked to deduce things about the suspect and then see if she got it right. She completely ignored the computer, knowing it would have a password and that her technological skills were not enough to hack the FBI. 

   Baby thanked for not being drunk enough to not know what she was doing, but to be a little more excited and happy than usual. Unfortunately, her current condition was not enough to pay much attention to the light noise the door made when it opened, only noticing the presence of someone else there when she heard a false cough, startling her.

– Miss, you are not an agent. – Said the handsome man, a little surprised by the situation and looking at the visitor's badge attached to the girl's black leather jacket.

– Huh, are you... sure?

– Yes, I’m sure. What are you doing here, miss?

– I think I getting myself in serious problems. – Baby laughed awkwardly, scratching her neck and seeing the badge with the name Grant Anderson on the clothes of the FBI agent who looked at her with extreme suspicion, prepared to solve that problem that was having an extremely strange girl accessing FBI files.

   Agent Anderson insisted on staying close to the girl, with his hand on her shoulder, with the suspicion that she would run away from there while he took her to the office of one of his bosses. Jones threw a smile and a wink at the security guard who escorted her to that floor, even though deep down she was a little afraid that the problem she created it would jeopardize her possible BAU spot.

   Two knocking on Aaron Hotchner's door was all it took for Baby Marie Jones to be in real trouble, walking in and facing a way-too-serious-looking man and a blonde lady. Unfortunately for the short-haired redhead, in that room there was not only the BAU Unit Chief but the all-powerful Section Chief, Erin Strauss. Anderson was afraid to say anything, the bosses' sharp eyes cutting him off, but he soon managed to announce the situation to both. "This girl was reading case documents, she was stealing some too," he explained, Baby looking at him ugly, opening her mouth in surprise. "I wasn't stealing! I was just... borrowing... for an undetermined period of time."

– What?! Handcuff her. How did she get in here? – Asked Strauss, squinting, irritated by the security breach, wondering if that child could be part of an illegal organization. Agent Hotchner, however, was looking at the girl with curiosity, finding her strangely familiar.

– She has a visitor’s badge. 

– What’s her name? 

– You know I’m right in front of you and you can ask me yourself, right? – Jones asked, her gaze going from Anderson to Strauss, who didn't have a very good expression.

   “What’s your name?”, the Section Chief of the BAU sighed, seeing the girl actually think to answer, looking to Aaron and remembering him. “Bring David Rossi here and we’ll answer all your questions!”, ordered the kid, seeing the two big bosses exchanging looks. 

– “We?”

– Yeah, me and him. Trust me, you are not going to regret it, this is gonna be super duper fun! – She smiled excitedly, seeing that the three people in the room were not understanding anything and were not sure how to act in the face of the unusual situation.

   “Why I’m not surprised that you caused that much of a problem in such a short period of time?”, asked David Rossi, drawing attention and sighing deeply to see what he was up to and how the next few hours would be somewhat unpleasant. Baby, lightly drunk and unfiltered, grinned when she saw the older man enter the room. “When I was told you were here I already knew that my day wouldn't go as planned, but you could have caused a minor problem, don't you think, Baby?”.

– Well, you can say whatever you want, but you must admit that's gonna be a damn good story to tell.

– Baby Marie Jones. – Murmured Hotch, finally remembering where he knew those red hair and striking eyes, seeing the girl do jazz hands, exclaiming “surprise!”. He couldn’t forget that case even if we wanted.

– Can somebody explain what is happening? – Asked Strauss, as Anderson left the room, closing the door and seeing the curious looks of the other BAU agents regarding that little meeting.

– So...!

– You! You don’t speak a word, miss. – David pointed his finger at the youngest, who took off her imaginary hat in a gesture of understanding, the sound of handcuffs filling the room, the girl laughing, but going quiet. – Erin, sit down, please. We have a lot to talk. Tell me, how do you fell about breaking some rules? 

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXXIII: Volcano Girl

I never wanted for much. Not really. Peace, love, safety, security, control, calm.

Things always got lost in translation. Such simple desires turned into contradictions. Within the muddiness that became my life, I found something resembling my original wants.

Lush, open fields (well, in my mind, I could still see a lushness to it all, but much of the fields were made up of dry grass) where my beloved and I lived in a home she built. She was resourceful, talented, kind, and often able to lift my spirits up, even when I thought that they couldn’t be lifted.

Despite such wonderful things, I couldn’t help but feel ill at ease. Like any moment, my sanctuary would be crumbled and taken from me. There shouldn’t have been any reason to feel that way: my pursuers have been defeated, my life no longer threatened, the angel no longer a corrupting force within me, and my wife who had stayed by my side throughout it all. Yet every now and then I felt the slightest hint in the back of my mind that my inner demon never went away. Sure, in a literal sense, it was gone, and I was myself and myself only.

But in another sense, I was full of fear. Fear of myself, and even if I had no evidence to suggest as such, it tugged at me in many directions. All I could do was try to take a deep breath and remain calm.

Soon winter would approach. We needed to think of a way to deal with it.

“What are we going to do about the coming cold?” I asked her, as she sat nestled in my lap.

“Simple!” She raised her index finger and I could tell she just came up with whatever idea she had on the spot. “We build a hearth. Or I do. I’ve never built a hearth before, it could be fun!”

Of course. As if I should expect any different from her.

“Do we even have the right material to build a hearth?”

“If we don’t, I’ll get some! If we don’t have the right house for one, then I’ll just rebuild and start over!”

I balked.

“Do we really have the time to build a new house?”

Not to mention, where would we sleep?

“You dare underestimate my power?” She fired right back.

“No,” I shook my head and smiled, “I know better than to do that by now.”

We gave each other a couple of light pecks, little brushes against our lips, then nuzzled against each other’s faces.

“Oh! Bathroom’s calling!” She jumped off and raced toward the bathroom.

Now that she had that idea of building a hearth in her head, there was no way of stopping her. Not that I could complain; as long as we had something to handle the winter chill, I was all good. Where we chose to live, there seemed to be only two seasons: summer and winter, with summer being the dominant one. Yes, there was spring, but it was a warm spring. The kind of spring which carried an orange glow and lit a spark across the land.

Life was grand. It was a daunting task having to fend off such worrisome feelings, but I knew that wonderful things were all around me.

That was right: I had nothing to worry about. Nothing at al –

Knock, knock.

Two knocks upon the door.

We never had company (save for Velvet and Coriander, but they had a knack of showing up anywhere and at any time).

Juniper did say that her cousin was apparently planning on showing up. Does that mean…?

Another few raps upon the door, along with raps upon my tiresome heart.

I sucked in the nervousness, picked myself up, and headed toward the door. My shaking hand reached for the doorknob and turned it, then I watched the slow creep of it opening and stared out into the open air.

At first, I saw nothing save for the lush scenery I was accustomed to. Its gentle breeze rolling the tall grass, the greenhouse and coop off to the side. But little else. As childish as it was to admit, I had a particular morbid thought:

What if it’s a ghost?

Then I looked down.

Before me was a miniature version of Juniper. I couldn’t believe what I saw, so I removed my glasses and rubbed my eyes, but the vision did not go away. Then it clicked and I felt silly.

“You’re...Demetria, right?” I asked, plain as day. She looked a little angry.

“No shit, Sherlock,” she barked back. Despite the blonde twin tails, she reminded me more of Coriander than Juniper.

“Um, well...how are you doing?” I squeezed out the words. Although my voice came out soft, inside I was screaming. Why did you want to come here? Why now? Why me? Why us?

It was just like how I used to act. Really, if I desired to be kind, it was more than just lying about how I felt.

“Horrible. I can’t figure out what to do with my life. No, it’s not that. It’s that I’m trying to find something to prevent what I’m becoming,” she recited.

“What you’re becoming?” I tilted my head.

She lifted up her hoodie from the bottom and I first thought that she was about to strip in front of me, something which would have been ridiculous, but not all that out there considering the kinds of people I’ve met. Instead, I was greeted with lines, or rather indentations, across her lower torso.

“Oh. You’ve got abs. Congrats?” I was at a loss. Why was that such a bad thing and why did that warrant coming here?

“No. Not congrats. It’s hideous. No one should bear witness to such a thing.”

If that’s the case, then why show me?

“I mean, as long as you’re happy, I don’t see what the problem is,” I remained confused as hell. ‘Happy’. That word stung. It shouldn’t have, but it did. It was the truth, that as long as she was fine with it, there shouldn’t have been an issue. But that wouldn’t solve the problem. There had to be some reason she was dissatisfied, right?

“Have you been eating enough? Drinking enough water?” I grasped for some kind of answer that made sense.

“Probably not. Anyway, you gonna let me in or what?”

“Why?” I blurted. Then to cover, I smiled.

“Oh. I get it,” she stamped her foot. “You don’t want me here. Makes sense. I’m intruding on your space, is that it?”

Hit the nail right on the head. Well, now that it’s out in the open no use being coy about it.

“Yes, that’s how I feel,” I stood up straight, and my voice darkened as well. “However, Juniper did inform me that you would show up, and I don’t mean any ill will.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” she dismissed, “at least you’re being honest now.”

Right. I should be honest more often.

“Who’s at the door?” Juniper’s voice echoed behind me. Rather than respond, I kept my gaze down toward Demetria.

“Please, come in,” I ushered her. Demetria dragged her feet inside and Juniper looked astonished upon seeing who our guest was.

“It’s really you! Oh wow!” Juniper exclaimed.

Demetria plopped down on one of the chairs across from the one Juniper and I usually sat on.

“Yup. It me,” she grunted.

I closed the door, then sat down where I had been seated. Juniper followed suit and took her seat in my lap.

“So, what’s up?” Juniper opened up the conversation with Demetria, even with her arms wrapped around my neck.

Demetria looked down, legs spread wide, and said nothing. I thought the silent treatment would hold, but after a while, she spoke up.

“My life should have been normal. Boring. So why did I become so obsessed? Why did it have to be her?” She shook her head. It didn’t even sound like her words were in response to Juniper’s question.

“Are you talking about Remora?” I figured the answer must have already been a resounding ‘yes’, but even still.

“You already know. It doesn’t even bear mentioning, yet because of that, all of these events set into motion and now even though I’ve come to my senses, I can’t return to my old self. It frightens me.”

“I can relate,” I nodded in agreement. “Sometimes things happen like, ‘if only I hadn’t have done this…’ but even if you’re not where you wanted to be, you can still find a path for yourself. I believe that.”

She looked up and studied my face. It looks like you’re being honest, was the vibe I got from her. It creeped me out.

“Maybe so,” she replied. “That’s why I came here. Home didn’t work for me. I got into a fight, and the thing was, I enjoyed it. That’s not how I want to be. I don’t want to seek out fights to satisfy some sick urge. I want to do something creative, and I figured staying with you and Juniper would help with that.”

“It’s true. I’ve done a couple of creative things here and there,” Juniper chimed in. “This house being one of them!”

Yep. Of course she was proud of that.

“I know I’m already inside and I came all the way out here in what was a few day trip, but is it okay if I stay with you guys for a little while?”

My heart sank, but I was already prepared to accept her, even if it might have been hard. In my heart, I wanted to do the right thing.

“Yes, of course. We’ve got a spare room,” I gestured to the room that resided beside the room Juniper and I slept in.

“Thank you. I know this isn’t ideal for you, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll stay in the room for the most part.”

“Actually,” Juniper spoke up. “I think it’d be nice to have some work with our crops. Of course, while it’s winter, there won’t be much of that, but I’m sure there’s still some things you can do around here.”

Demetria opened her mouth, ready to balk or protest, but then rested her lips flat and gave a short nod.

“Sure. Anything.”

While I was sure it was an uncomfortable subject for her, I couldn’t help myself. Something gnawed at me and I needed to know what it was.

“By the way, Demetria, what happened between you and Remora?” I pried.

To my surprise, she answered, and even though her voice continued to hold a dry, barren tone, she didn’t sound bothered in the slightest.

“We had a long talk. She told me everything. Who she was, what she had been through, her identity. At the end, when she reached her conclusion, I didn’t accept what she said about herself. In fact, I argued against it. But who’s to say she was wrong but me? Maybe she didn’t care about anyone, and even if she did, I couldn’t force her to care. Once I realized that, I felt the best course of action was for me to leave. Me being there was a futile effort, worse, I was more of a hindrance.”

“That tracks,” I replied. “Rhea probably felt the same way about herself. I feel like I failed with both of them. One, I could have prevented their death, the other, I treated as if they were a way for me to redeem myself for failing the other one.”

“You’re being hard on yourself again,” Juniper reminded me. “It’s hard to know what to do sometimes, not to mention whether it’s right or even possible to help someone all of the time. You were going through a difficult time when you met Rhea. It was hard enough just to help yourself.”

“She’s right, you know,” Demetria added. “What’s done is done, anyway. Might as well move on from it.”

I knew Juniper was right, but hearing that from Juniper’s cousin just seemed harsh. Even by my standards. Somehow, I needed to tell her as much. I was my own person, so if anyone could say as such, I could.

Be nice, but be honest...how do I do that?

“Trust me, moving on is something I’d love to do. But it’s just as you heard from Juniper: I was going through a difficult time. My health, both physically and mentally weren’t well and the lives of both Juniper and I were threatened. Those events still run through my head, and I’m trying to be better both toward myself and others, but it’s not so simple as a snap of my fingers.”

As much as I wish it was that way. I no longer had that kind of power.

“Yeah. I guess so,” she turned her head. Not so much a shrug, but there was still the disinterested tone to her voice. “It’s not that I dislike Remora or anything. I wish her well, and maybe she does need a friend, but I just don’t think it can be me.”

Despite her tone, I agreed with the sentiment.

“I think we all wish her well,” I replied. “I do worry about her. Not that I really need to, but when we had our fight over text, it seemed like she was going through a rough time.”

“Can we stop talking about her? She’s not important. I get she affected you a great deal and all that, but that’s not why I came here. I’d rather not think about her anymore.”

That struck me. No, not personally. Not that time. But it just occurred to me that she was the one who wanted to move on, and from her limited perspective, probably thought that I should do the same. If it was like that…

“Yes. Certainly. My apologies.”

Juniper got up off of my lap and gestured toward the room Demetria would be staying in.

“Wanna drop off your stuff in the room?” She offered. Demetria’s mouth appeared to drop to the floor.

“Did you have a whole room prepared for me or something?!” She cried out. It was the most expressive I’ve seen her since she arrived. Granted, she hadn’t been there long, and I hadn’t formed much of an impression of her, but still, it counted for something.

Juniper chuckled.

“Not quite. We’ve had guests before. It’s a long story,” she took a quick glance over to me and winked.

Well, we were prepared either way, considering your mom called my wife.

Reluctant, I dragged my feet toward the room as well, watched as she set down her backpack next to the little bed. Without hesitation, she jumped onto the bed, face first, buried into the pillow. Both Juniper and I watched as it soon became apparent that our guest had fallen right to sleep. I couldn’t help but sleep.

She probably needed the rest.

As the days passed, my desire for her to leave grew. Bright and early into the morning, I woke up and brewed myself a warm cup of sagebrush tea. After a few minutes of letting the flavor steep, I took the cup and sat down on the living room floor, then took a sip. Nothing out of the ordinary.

However, that soon changed when out of the corner of my eye, a zombie-like figure shambled past me and into the kitchen. I didn’t pay the figure much mind, I was too wrapped up in the aroma.

“Oh, uh, it’s, uh,” came the low groggy groans in just the same manner a zombie would make. I turned to my left and I jolted upright, which made some of my tea splash out of its cup and seared onto my bare collarbone.

There Demetria stood, mouth agape. Or, well, it must have been, but she turned her head and covered her mouth with the sleeve of her hoodie.

“Sorry, I just got up to get some food,” she mumbled, no more awake than before, yet more coherent. In one of her hands was an orange.

“Hi,” I waved with my free hand. That hot tea water still stung, but it would pass with time.

She continued to look away, but waved back. I was confused until Juniper walked out, arms stretched out and a mighty yawn, no hands covering her mouth.

“Oh. I see. It’s a tits out kind of morning,” Demetria commented once again in a mumbled. That time, I figured it out.

“Mm. Yep. Say hun, what’s the brew today?” Juniper didn’t pay Demetria’s comment much mind. Really, it wasn’t a big deal. We wore as much or as little clothes as we wanted at any given time. We were free people and it was our own home. But neither of us took into account how it may come across to a guest. When it was Velvet and Coriander, neither of them paid it any mind, but everyone was different.

“...Sagebrush…” I murmured.

“Huh? I couldn’t hear you?” Juniper leaned over and cupped her ear, hoping I would repeat my answer. Demetria, for her part, shuffled past Juniper and I.

“Don’t mind me, you guys. I’ll just be in my room,” she reassured without sounding very reassuring.

“You know, if you’re uncomfortable, you can just say so,” I called after her.

“No, no, it’s fine…”

You’re damn right it’s fine. It’s our house. We do what we wa –

Juniper turned her head toward Demetria.

“Oh, that’s what it is, huh?” Juniper stood up, hands on her hips. “I’ve got it: we’ll compromise!”

Compromise? Compromise how?

“I’ve got some plain whites, we can get a bucket and some dyes and make tie-dye shirts!”

I didn’t see what the point of that was. We already had shirts. I could just put one on and the problem would be solved just like that.

“Come on, you too!” Juniper urged me up. “Group project! It’ll be fun! Aren’t you into the whole hippie thing?”

Neither Demetria nor I looked thrilled about the idea. However, I smiled.

“Yeah, this could be nice to get out and have fun with dyes,” I tried to see the positive in it, even if I wasn’t keen on giving up on my way of life.

We had fun, though. Early in the morning, loose shirts, gentle breeze. All three of us dipped shirts into a swirl of dyes, and splashed the mucky water at each other. By the time we were done, the three of us were a mess of paint.

In spite of that, the feeling of wrongness carried over.

Let it be known that Juniper’s impulsivity was not the issue. In fact, that was an aspect of hers which I loved, even if most of the time, I complained about it.

“I was wondering, what kind of creative things do you do?” Demetria asked Juniper while we dunked shirts.

“Just about anything!” She answered.

“So, what, would you make swords?” Demetria joked, though I could already see the spark light up in Juniper’s eyes.

“That’s brilliant! I can and should make a sword!”

“Are you serious?! I was joking!” Demetria was shocked. I placed my hand on her shoulder.

“It’s too late; once she’s got an idea in her head, you can’t talk her out of it.”

My main concern was whether Juniper would still manage to get that hearth installed in our house, and if it would work out.

But really, that wasn’t a concern, either. Even if the things Juniper made were never perfect, they were neither broken nor defective, either. In spite of the imperfections which came with making something for the first time, everything she made she put a great deal of care into and would be meticulous in at least trying to get whatever she made to a functional state. Needless to say, she was wonderful.

All was well enough. I was sure we’d get through winter no problem. Still, I couldn’t quite shake off the feeling of dread, and a nagging at me which repeated the words, “I want you gone.”

At least that’s all they were: thoughts. Insecurities.

What a relief it was that such things couldn’t manifest. Not anymore.

When I lived in Trent’s apartment, I was a recluse. Even after the bond between Juniper and I deepened and she understood what I had been dealing with, I still found myself wary around her. Not because of her, but because I was guarded.

Once, I had shut myself in that empty room, just as I had many times before. It was during another period of depression where I couldn’t bring myself to eat, let alone face anyone. Both Juniper and Trent were understanding, much to my relief. They left bowls of soup next to the door so I wouldn’t starve, but I wasn’t even sure if I took so much as a sip. I might have crept out of the room in the dead of night to wash out the bowl, just so it seems like I ate.

Still, it was nice to know they cared.

What wasn’t nice was who I met, as the door to the room opened. I was sprawled out on the floor, looking listless, and could do without sudden intrusions.

“Well,” a woman’s voice spoke in a huff, “Trent didn’t tell me he had a third person living here.”

I looked over. Some frazzled looking middle-aged woman with frizzy strawberry blonde hair.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m their mother,” she answered, all stern and cross.

I’d say “who does she think she is?” But she already answered my question.

“I see. You’re visiting?”

“I am.”

She gave me a disapproving look. Totally uncalled for.

“Come out. I’d like to have a talk,” her voice didn’t waver, so it sounded much more like an order than a request. I didn’t have to respect it at all, but I did.

I followed her out into the living room and sat down on the couch. She pulled out a chair from the dining room and sat across from me with one leg over the other and arms folded. Just as serious as before. Well, two could play at that game.

“Who are you?” She began the conversation.

“Vesuvius,” I replied.

“How long have you been living here?” Sheesh, she’s really going for the interrogation, huh?

“About a couple years.”

“A couple ye – moving on. What is your relation with my daughter?”

That question took me by surprise. It just seemed so specific.

“None. We just happen to occupy the same space,” I kept my composure. Whatever her goal was, I wasn’t about to give in.

“So you two don’t interact?”

“What’s this about?” The words forced their way out. “Trent’s the one who took me in.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Great. I brought that one on myself.

“I was homeless,” I stated, “he let me stay here. I stay in my room for the most part. I don’t bother anyone, I don’t demand any of their food.”

“And you don’t see a problem with that? I can tell you don’t take care of yourself. You’re thin, pale, fatigued. Do you think that’s fair on Juniper?”

“Why are you focusing on her? If you have a problem, you should take it up with Trent.”

She closed her eyes, shook her head, and sighed.

“Trent’s a lost cause, he’d take care of anyone if he could, to the detriment of himself. But there’s still hope for Juniper. She’s got some wits about her, she’s got a little more sense, if only she would act on it.”

“I think Juniper’s capable of making her own decisions,” I countered.

“Be that as it may, you’re just wasting away. What if she opens that door one day and finds a dead body. Do you really think that’s fair on her? Neither of my children should have to take care of you, especially if you won’t take care of yourself.”

I made no comment on that.

“Now, you can go back out on the streets for all I care.”

“That isn’t your call to make,” I hissed.

Her brow creased.

“That’s true. But if you cared about Juniper at all, you would leave.”

I remained silent. Without an answer, she got up and walked to the front door.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” she bade me farewell. Really, I couldn’t have said the same about her.

She was right, though. I was someone who was hunted, pursued. If the organization pursuing me ever found out where I was, both Trent and Juniper would be in harm’s way. It would be careless of me to run that risk.

So after moments of deliberation, I too went for the door. However, before I could depart, the door opened up and Juniper entered.

“Hey, where are you going?” She was shocked to see me in front of her as soon as she walked in. Not to mention, she already pieced together that I was headed out.

“I’ve decided to leave,” I stated. That should have been that. Not another word. Instead, she too scowled, and tears started to form from her eyes.

“No!” She shouted. It took me aback, to the point that I took a few steps back, then tripped back down onto the couch. She climbed up onto the couch, her legs spread out over my own as sat on my lap, leaned down, her forehead pressed against mine, and she looked into my eyes. I tried to look away, but her arms held onto the top of the couch and blocked my vision.

“I want you…” She muttered.

My face grew hot and I really tried to look away.

“You want me?”

She nodded her head.

“I want you...to stay,” she added.

Oh.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” I tried to argue.

“Why? Did you talk to my mom? Did she tell you that?”

I gulped.

“Uh…”

She lowered one arm and placed her hand on my chin, then lifted my head up. There really was no avoiding her gaze now.

Again, I gulped. My face must have boiled over.

“Look, I love my mom, don’t get me wrong, but she can be a little...overprotective. She was always trying to get me to be tough and mean so that I could protect myself from bad people. She would go on about how cruel the world can be and try to drill it in my head, but look, I already knew all that, but I didn’t want to be that kind of person. I don’t want to go my life distrusting everyone. It’s tough being kind, but this is how I chose to be, and I don’t regret it.”

I already knew Juniper had her ‘tough’ side. When we first met, she was the one who stood up to me and managed to convince me to eat with her and her brother.

“She doesn’t know what you’ve been through. So please, try not to pay her any mind.”

I see. Her mom’s just like that. And that thing about trying to ‘toughen up’ Juniper? She must have been a cruel parent.

“Okay...I’ll try…” I struggled to get the words out. Juniper took heavy sighs and I felt her warm breath in my ear.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked.

My heart made little thumps.

“I mean...if you’re bold enough to sit on my lap...you may as well...I mean, I don’t mind…” I stammered.

She leaned in and our lips brushed against each other, then our mouths opened and our tongues tangled into each other. Heavy breaths continued to follow. When she released, she asked:

“Can we take this further?”

I looked down.

“I mean...on the couch? Shouldn’t we do this on a bed or the floor?”

She smiled and nodded.

“Yeah. Maybe my room can be your room, too?”

“S...wh...re...uh…” I stuttered out loose syllables, as I had no words available. I was in total shock.

“Since when did you want to do these things with me?” I spat out. She chuckled in response.

“Hehe, I wonder.”

We can skip the rest of the details. As much as it was a fond memory, it was also quite embarrassing for me. Everything seemed so fast, like a strange chain reaction. Sometime after, I called up Juniper’s mom.

“Sorry, I’m staying here,” I told her flat out.

“Then you better treat her well,” was her response.

Despite such improvements to my life and health, I continued to resent Juniper’s mother. Yes, it was terrible, but I had the idea stuck in my head that she must have been an abusive woman and an antagonistic figure. That nothing good could come from her. So thoughts started to crop up, I would be much happier if she weren’t in my life.

Then it happened.

Not even a few days after such a thought, Conifer Bark died of a heart attack.

It was never meant to be like that. Yes, it was a dark thought that I had, but it was never meant to be made reality. Trent told me that she had been in poor health for a few years now, and in all honesty, I was relieved to not have to deal with her anymore.

When it came time for the funeral and the casket was lowered into the ground, Juniper grabbed the fabric of my shirt and sobbed into my chest. I was confused why she could be so sorrowful for someone who had been such a negative force in her life.

I held onto Juniper tight as she wailed, yet I had nothing to feel on my part.

I wholly believe I was the cause of her mother’s death. Not through any deliberate action, but simply because I had perceived her as a threat to my happiness.

One other side-effect I never mentioned after getting rid of the angel (or demon) that was within me was that some of the gaps in my memories had been refilled, as they must have been intentionally forgotten in order to protect myself. Those memories would surface without cause nor stimuli.

Back when I was a teenager, I had a girlfriend named Sparrow. Once she had a dream where she turned into a sparrow, and ever since then, she decided to go by that name. She was the same age as me, but rather than go to school, lived out on her own in an open field with her van. It might have been because of her that I desired to be such a free spirit, as she was one, herself.

For several years, I believed that I had left her behind after I had traveled through time once, then was pursued by the shadowy organization. In truth, I did reunite with her for a short while. It was when I was still young, and I had returned to my own time after retrieving my father’s time machine. She and I traveled cross-country and had a couple of boys smuggled in the back who we tried to get them over to Canada due to the draft they had been forced into. On principle, we both held great disdain for the military and its atrocities, and would rather have at least saved two people from its sadistic lust for violence.

...Unfortunately, neither of us were successful. We were stopped by a group of people who claimed to be government officials. They captured us, put her and I in two different cells. What happened to those boys, I never found out, but I couldn’t imagine it was anything good.

Through brutal cunning and vicious wit, I escaped and broke her free as well. However, as the ones who oversaw the facility noticed that we had made our escape, they gave chase. There wasn’t much time. I hijacked a truck, and I begged her to come in. She just shook her head and smiled. I got out of the truck, pleaded. My heart raced and I was desperate. I couldn’t see myself leaving without her.

“Please,” I sobbed. “I need you. I know how I’m always saying I don’t need you, but I do!”

Her expression didn’t change.

“No, you were right. You never needed anyone. You should hurry up and leave.”

She walked away. I must have said more, but they fell on deaf ears.

I was enraged. I was devastated. But I couldn’t stay any longer. I didn’t know where I run to, or how I would evade their grasp, but I did.

All the while, the thought pervaded:

There’s no way this is real. I must be making it up. I have to. If it’s real, then I can’t be happy unless I forget about it all.

So I did.

When the memory returned, I was situated in Juniper’s lap. Tears began to roll down my eyes.

“Is everything okay, dear?” Juniper asked.

“I just remembered something,” I told her.

Demetria walked in. She had been out gathering wood for the hearth. Against all odds (well, I say that, but I had no doubts that she could have built one), it had been set up, just in time for winter.

“Did I interrupt something?” She stood with a bundle of logs in her arms.

“No,” I looked up. “I just cry easily sometimes.”

“Huh,” was her reply, then she set the wood into the hearth. “I’ve never been much of a crier, myself.”

I smiled

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” I assured her. In truth, I was only reassuring myself.

“I know. I just don’t do it much.”

As the days passed, I adjusted more to the idea of Demetria living with us. She wasn’t bad at all, and she was a good help around the house. She’d feed the chicken and help with farming. It irked me that I couldn’t get much of a read on her. I thrived on having some kind of an impression of others. Without that, it felt like some kind of omen and I didn’t know how to react.

So in spite of the peacefulness, I continued to stress each day. Perhaps an unfounded stress, but a stress all the same. It might not have helped that Juniper sometimes let the chickens in the house. One morning the whole lot of them charged into Demetria’s room and jumped on her bed. I heard a squeaky, “eep” sound emit from her room.

“Juniper, did you have to let those chickens in the house?” I complained.

“If you’re cold, they’re cold. Let them in!” She replied. I knew I couldn’t talk sense into her at that point, and I loved those chickens too, but goddamn, they were chaos incarnate.

However one would have interpreted the situation, it sure was a literal rude awakening. Even if I wasn’t the one who was given a direct assault, the whole thing left me just a tad on edge. So to counter it, I retreated outside, shivered the whole way through as I went into my greenhouse and retrieved one of the plants. Once I made my way back inside and holed up in Juniper and I’s room, I sat on the floor next to our bed. Beside me was the bong that Juniper had made for me on one of my birthdays. I lit up, and soon all my worries faded, as did the rest of me.

Everything zoned. I zoned out, the room zoned in and out, and my hands were a pulse. My legs became turbo jets and vibrated against the hardwood floor.

“Ah, relief,” I let out the droned words and blew out a puff of smoke. Then came the coughs. That was always my least favorite part, even if I accepted it as a certainty.

“I may as well be the only person in the universe. Maybe there’s other people, too. There could be cows up there. Ah, who cares?” I mused. Even if I didn’t make total sense, I was at ease. That was the most important thing.

Soon I was joined by two silhouettes at the doorway. Silly me, I forgot to close the door.

“Uh, is Ves okay?” One of the silhouettes echoed a sentiment.

“She’s fine, she’s just high,” a familiar echo from other silhouette explained. “It helps her calm down. I’m fine with it, but I don’t smoke myself, as the smoke gives me headaches.”

I knew that voice from anywhere. It was my tree star.

“Juniper! Babe! Pig in the city! My Homeward Bound!” I reached my arms out for her and signaled that she was invited in.

“Is she just naming children’s movies now?” That other voice or echo, asked.

“It’s fine. Hey hun,” she waved.

“Come join me! My legs are a torpedo!”

“In a little bit,” she let out a little laugh. “I think you deserve this time for yourself.”

She was right. I mean, I wanted to cuddle. I wanted to fuck. But that could wait. I had my own time to relax and let all the stress runoff like magma. At least I still had that.

We all survived the winter. Our efforts were a group effort, and that extended to making food and keeping each other warm. Despite never getting a good grasp on what kind of person Demetria was, I grew more at ease around her as time went on. Maybe that was a mistake. I didn’t want to think so, but one evening in late February changed everything.

Huddled on the floor, the three of us played a nice game of poker with tarot cards. Let it be known that one thing Demetria and I had in common was our poker faces. Juniper, on the other hand, always puffed up her cheeks and held back laughter whenever she drew a card. It was clear she didn’t take the game quite so seriously.

It should have been light and relaxing.

Instead, bright lights shone from outside. Demetria leapt to her feet and ducked under the window. She poked her head up, then turned to us.

“Stay inside,” she commanded.

“What’s going on?” I panicked. I could already tell from such brashness in her voice that something was amiss.

“I don’t know.”

Next came the sound of tires screeching. I only heard the grating noise, as I dared not look outside. My hands shook, my nerves short circuited, and everything in me told me that nothing good was to come next.

“They have guns…” Demetria muttered.

They...what?

Without the image, my mind went wild.

“Who’s out there?” Juniper asked.

“I don’t know,” her voice sharpened. “But I can tell it’s nothing good. Stay inside, I’ll keep you guys safe.”

I was confused, but more than that, panic was already setting in.

“What can you even do?!” I cried out.

“I don’t know that either,” she replied, then ran to the back of the house and jumped out from the window in her room.

Once I heard her land on the ground, I sat stunned.

My mind raced. So did my heart. There was nothing I could do. I didn’t have power anymore. I didn’t want to have it again, but I never expected something like that. Something that I had no control over. It ate at me, the unknowing. The confusion. Despite the pulse, the violent pulse that carried through my whole being. It couldn’t be helped. I too went for the front window, and when I saw what was out there, I was sick to my stomach.

Outside the fields were set ablaze. There was a group of burly men in heavy armor and helmets which scattered about the fields.

They’re here. They’re dangerous. But who are they? No. It doesn’t matter who. What matters is that I’m not safe and I should be.

Gunfire erupted. Rat-tat-tat. Thunderous piercing shots. Then, as I cowered and covered my head, covered my ears, buried myself in my legs, I heard the sound: a guttural scream. Bellows and ghastly shrieks. But no tone which indicated Demetria.

“Don’t worry, hun,” Juniper whispered. “We’ve got that sword in my workshop. We can defend ourselves.”

“No!” I snapped, sharp and shrill. “There’s NOTHING! They have guns!”

There was no comfort. There were no magic words, no desires which could erase what was outside our door. I was powerless.

I rocked back and forth, clenched my fists. No. My fists clenched my head. Everything, no matter how much I tightened up, would not go away. I felt a hand upon my shoulder. It must have been Juniper’s. No. It was wrong. I wanted to bat it away, scream. There was no comfort to be had.

What is it? Is it The Flashbulb? But how? I thought Velvet and Coriander took care of them. There shouldn’t be anything, so WHY?! There has to be a reason. There has to be a purpose. Think...THINK. Why?

My mind was frantic, running faster than I could ever hope to catch up, but when the commotion at last subsided and smoke seeped through the windows, I had my answer. It was the only possibility.

I stormed out of the house, ready to erupt.

When I looked around, I saw no flames. It must have been the glow from the lights, my mind. That didn’t matter. All I saw was red. That was, until I drew close to the armored truck that had been parked in the open dirt path. In front of the truck was Demetria, who held one of the armed men by the back of his collar. She saw me and turned, a face I didn’t recognize.

“It’s done,” she announced with a grim expression. She sounded out of breath, but more than that, excited. Like she had been wanting something like that. Like she had anticipated it.

“YOU!” I shouted and pointed a finger at her. “YOU BROUGHT THIS WITH YOU! I WAS FINE HERE UNTIL YOU SHOWED UP! I HAD THE LIFE I WANTED! I HAD PEACE! YOU RUINED IT! YOU TOOK MY HOME! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER LET YOU IN!”

My voice was shrill. It was all I could muster. I had nothing else to protect me. I tried to shout, no, scream more words her way. My throat couldn’t take any more. No, my mind. My emotions. I was too weak, far too fragile. I thought I saw her lower lip quivered but when I focused, no. There was nothing indicating that my words had any sort of effect on her.

Even in my desperate screams, I was powerless.

With nothing else, I fell to the ground and broke down into tears.

“Leave,” I forced out the word. Then, I shouted, “do you hear me? Leave. GO.”

I looked up, desperate for her to take the cue. What I saw was her, staring back down at me, unaffected. Her face had a terrifying seriousness, brows creased and a burning gaze. Then, she spoke up:

“Understood. I never meant for this to happen, but I swear I’ll make sure it never happens to you guys again,” she stated with a dearth of emotion.

As she departed in that same armored vehicle which shattered my peace, everything around me faded into a crisp white.

Sirens in my head. I turned equal measure numb and a sobbing mess. I felt a hand upon my back, then Juniper’s voice.

“Come on. Let’s get back inside,” her words broke through, rushed, yet calm. Reluctant, I let her take me in, but the whole night, I thought about how I would be happiest if everyone and everything, including myself, would just cease to exist.

[440mxs-wife]

It Was Always You

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Your phone dinged in your pocket with a text message notification. Your eyes widened as you read the message from Dean. It said they were on their way home, but that Sam got hurt, and to be waiting in the infirmary. He didn't elaborate on Sam's injuries, so you made sure to have suture kits and bandages readily available.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's been about eight years since you started hunting with the Winchesters. When you met them, you and your hunting partner/boyfriend, Evan, were on a hunt for werewolves. Your intel on the number of werewolves turned out to be wrong, which caused you and Evan to quickly get overwhelmed. At one point, Evan thought that you had gotten them all but the pack leader ambushed him out of nowhere and killed him.

You scrambled to find a hiding place, but knew it was just a matter of time before you were discovered. Just as the pack leader found you, a gunshot rang out and it dropped to the ground. When you looked up, you saw two men standing before you in blood-stained clothes. One of them had spiky hair, glittering green eyes and introduced himself as Dean Winchester. The other man was taller than the first man, with kind, hazel eyes and chestnut brown hair. Sam Winchester.

You had heard of the Winchesters, but never thought you'd ever cross paths with them. They checked you for injuries and rendered first aid. They also helped you with Evan's body in giving him a hunter's funeral. With Evan gone, you had no one else, so Sam and Dean invited you to join forces with them.

Living in the bunker, you settled into a routine with the Winchesters. They did the field work, while you were in charge of the bunker. You mainly researched cases, only hunting when absolutely necessary. You kept the home fires burning and patched up injuries. You waited up for them to come back from a hunt, hoping they would both be in one piece when they got home.

As time went on, you realized that the younger of the two Winchesters had captured your heart. At first, you tried to deny what you were feeling for Sam. You buried your feelings deeper each time he smiled at you, or laughed at something you said. The sidelong glances and lingering touches between you were slowly driving you crazy.

You tried to keep it cool on the outside, but you didn't know how much longer that would last. You already knew that there was no chance that Sam was interested in you "that way". If Sam ever found out how you felt and didn't return your feelings, that could make things weird between the two of you. You just had to keep reminding yourself of these facts, which was proving to be more and more difficult each day.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The bunker door flew open, and in came Dean, with Sam's arm around his shoulder. You had just come back from the infirmary to see Dean trying to maneuver Sam down the stairs. You raced up the steps to sling Sam's other arm around your shoulder to make it easier on both of them. Once in the infirmary, you and Dean managed to get Sam into a sitting position on one of the beds.

"What happened?" you asked Dean as you started to assess Sam's injuries.

"Thought it was a simple salt-and-burn, but turns out, the ghost was working with a couple of demons. We took care of the ghost, then as we turned to leave, the demons showed up. One of them flung Sam at the wall, then started beating on him. I took out the one who came after me, then got the one fighting with Sam," Dean explained.

As Dean is telling you about the hunt, you could see Sam was wincing with each breath. You tried to carefully remove Sam's shirt to check for more injuries. You finally decided that you had no choice but to tear the shirt off of him. Straight out of your fantasies, to be sure, but you harshly reminded yourself to keep your hormones in check. This was for purely medical reasons.

Once his shirt was removed, you could see multiple bruises on his torso. You figured it was probably bruised or cracked ribs, so you taped and bandaged up his side. Sam seemed to be breathing a little easier now that some of the pressure was off.

You continued your examination of Sam for other injuries. You found that he had a cut on his forehead, which likely meant a possible concussion, and he had a sprained ankle. You patched up the head wound, carefully wrapped his ankle and gave him some pain medication.

"Guess you're going to be stuck here for the next few days, Sam. At least until some of the swelling in that ankle goes down," you explained as Dean went to get an ice pack.

"No way, I'll be bored in here. I'll recuperate in my own room," Sam muttered as he attempted to get to his feet.

You forcibly put your hands on Sam's shoulders and got in his face until you were nearly nose-to-nose with him. "Sit. Down. Now, let's recap: you were recently in a fight with a demon, during which you got flung around the room and beaten. At the very least, you have bruised or cracked ribs, a possible concussion and a sprained ankle. You won't be going on any hunts for the near future, either, so I suggest you get comfy, Sam," you quietly but firmly stated.

Sam thought about fighting you about staying put, but the look on your face stopped him. Dean had also brought Sam's pajamas and a clean pair of boxers. Dean helped Sam change clothes, but not before making a lewd comment about how Sam should ask you for help. Then Sam got back in bed, into a sitting position. You placed a pillow under his sprained ankle and pulled the blanket over his bottom half. Sam caught your hand in his as you smoothed out the covers. "Hey? Thank you," he said softly.

You turned around and gave him a worn out smile. "You're welcome, Sam. But you don't have to thank me. I apologize for being so rude about getting you to stay in here, I know it's not an ideal situation. I just don't want to see you get further injured, all because you were stubborn and wouldn't allow yourself a chance to heal," you explained. Then you pulled up a chair next to the bed, and you stayed to keep Sam company.

It wasn't long before Sam's adrenaline wore off and the pain meds started to kick in. He yawned and you could see his eyelids begin to drift closed. Before you left the infirmary, you made sure he was comfortable and gave a lingering kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight, Sam," you whispered as you swept his hair from his forehead.

You wandered through the library and found Dean nursing a glass of whiskey. "Everything okay, is Sam asleep?" he asked.

With a weary sigh, you dropped into a chair and confirmed that Sam was indeed asleep. "I gave him some meds for the pain, so hopefully he'll sleep through the night. He needs rest, and I'm going to make sure he gets it," you replied.

"Gotta say, sweetheart, seeing you take charge like that with Sam was kinda hot," Dean smirked.

"Oh, but Dean, you're not the Winchester who has my heart. That would be Sam," you remarked. Your eyes widened and you immediately clapped a hand over your mouth once you realized what you'd said. "I mean, uh, that, um, oh hell," you stammered, as you covered your face with your hands.

Dean chuckled and put down his drink. "Relax, it isn't like I didn't already suspect something had to be going on," he remarked. "If it makes you feel any better, I think Sam's pretty clueless about it. But you should tell him at some point," Dean advised.

"Yeah? Maybe so. Then what happens when Sam doesn't see me that way? I'll have ruined a good friendship and things around here will get weird. No thanks," you stated firmly and rose from your chair. "Goodnight, Dean," you called over your shoulder as you walked to your room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You checked on Sam first thing the next morning. He was looking much better than when Dean first brought him in, with a little more color in his cheeks. He seemed to be a bit restless at the moment, moving his head from side to side. From his mumbling, you could tell he was in the middle of a nightmare. You knelt on the chair next to Sam's bed and reached for the washcloth in the basin. After all of the water had been wrung out of the washcloth, you folded it and placed it on Sam's forehead.

As soon as the washcloth touched his forehead, he seemed to relax and start emerging from his nightmare. He stopped thrashing his head back and forth, and wasn't mumbling anymore. His breathing seemed to even out as you sandwiched his large hand in between your two smaller ones. Your thumb gently rubbed circles on the back of his hand while you whispered soothing words to calm him.

You watched as Sam's eyelids began to flutter and eventually fully opened. He seemed a little disoriented and immediately tried to pull his hand from your grasp, but you held fast. "Shh, shh it's okay, Sam. You're in the infirmary," you soothed.

"What happened? What am I doing here?" he asked nervously.

"You got hurt on that last hunt with Dean. You took care of the spirit, but you didn't know that it was working with a couple of demons. Dean killed one, but the other one went after you. Beat you up pretty bad, possible concussion, some rib damage and a sprained ankle," you explained.

"I remember now. I tried to go back to my room, but someone in a not-so-subtle way told me there's no way that was gonna happen," Sam gazed pointedly in your direction.

"Hey, I had to do something! You can't tell me that you would willingly follow my instructions of staying in bed with your foot propped up? Not to be lifting things to aggravate your ribs? Yeah, right," you retorted, dropping his hand. You got up from your chair and started to walk away, but Sam reached for your hand, and caught hold of it.

"Calm down," he chuckled. "I promise to stay here and behave myself. But, I'm going to need some distraction. Wanna play cards or watch a movie or something?" he asked.

Your attitude softened. "I can do that. Let me go shower and make some breakfast for all of us, then I'll be back. Deal?" you replied.

"Deal," he grinned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam watched with a smile on his face as you walked out of the infirmary. He thought back on the events of the last day or so. He remembered the worry in your eyes when he and Dean first came through the door. Then he noticed how quickly you had regained your composure to focus on the task of getting him to the infirmary.

When you tore open his shirt, Sam thought he saw a fleeting glimpse of something in your eyes. They looked full of softness, an adoration maybe? Like you appreciated what you saw, but felt guilty and decided that maybe you shouldn't have. Could she have feelings for me? he wondered. Then he searched his mind for evidence to support his observation.

He thought about how he always finds you in the kitchen just in time to greet him after his morning run. You know exactly how he likes his coffee, and how to make the perfect egg white-only omelet with all of his favorites. And just this morning when he was having a nightmare, you knew exactly how to bring him out of it.

Sam made up his mind that if you were going to confine him to the infirmary, he was going to use this time to his advantage. He decided to test his theory and try to find out how you really felt about him. Maybe he'd even discover his own feelings along the way.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Over the next week or so, you spent a lot of time in the infirmary with Sam. The two of you played gin rummy, with Sam winning most of the time. However, you got your revenge while playing Scrabble by being the all-time high scorer.

As the days progressed, Sam started to notice certain things about you. How you scrunched your lips when you were deep in thought about the next card to play. Or how your hazel eyes sparkled as you discovered the winning letter combination in Scrabble. Your thousand-watt smile and how it lit up your whole face.

One evening, you took Sam out for a drive to get some fresh air. You drove to an open field that you knew would have the best view of the setting sun. As you leaned against the car, Sam turned to you and saw the wonder in your eyes at the simplicity of nature. He noticed how your hair caught the rays from the setting sun just right to make it look like it glowed. It was at that moment he realized he was falling for you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A week later, Dean got a call about a case a couple of towns over. It was a simple vengeful spirit, so just the two of you went. Sam's injuries had healed pretty well, but he decided not to chance it and therefore stayed home. You promised that Castiel would be available if he needed anything, and would probably check in every now and then. Then you gave Sam a lingering kiss on the cheek and blushed a little as you shyly said goodbye.

Late that night, Sam was jolted awake by the sound of the bunker door flying open. You and Dean had succeeded in your mission and stopped at the bar on the way home. Dean's high alcohol tolerance enabled him to drive home without too much difficulty.

You, on the other hand, were a stumbling, weaving, giggling mess. Dean kept trying to shush you so as not to wake up Sam, which only made you giggle even more. He finally got you turned around in the direction of your room and guided you down the hallway.

Dean paused at your doorway and leaned you against the wall while he opened your door. "Hey, Dean?" you slurred. "You know what I wanna do right now? I wanna tell Sammy everything. You know, 'bout how I'm in love with him," you mumbled.

"Oh, really, Princess? Are you sure that's such a good idea in your current condition? 'Cause if you want, I can knock on his door right now and have him poke his head out here so you can tell him," Dean chuckled.

"NO!!" you shouted. "Don't do that. 'S probably not a good idea anyway, since he doesn't like me that way," you muttered.

Dean opened your door and pulled you towards him to guide you into your room. "How do you know that? Did you ask him? What would you do if he was standing in front of you right now?" he asked.

"Kiss him. Like this," you answered and gave Dean a kiss full on the lips. At that moment, Sam poked his head out just in time to see what looked like you kissing his brother. He dropped his gaze to the floor and quietly closed his door.

"But, that'll never happen. So I'll go in here, cuddle with my pillow and pretend that it's Sam," you replied softly, tears shimmering in your eyes.

Dean kissed you on the forehead. "Goodnight, Princess. Take a couple of Tylenol with a bottle of water before you conk out. Hey, you did good work today, you know," he remarked.

You nodded. "I know. Thanks, Dean," you mumbled, then closed your door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you didn't have nearly as bad of a hangover as you expected to have. It was enough, though, to remind you that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to drink so much. When you wandered into the kitchen, Sam was already at work, making breakfast. Something was off about him, however. He had yet to acknowledge your presence as you walked in, even with just a look.

"Good morning, Sam," you remarked. Sam said nothing, just kept preparing his breakfast. "Good morning, Sam," you said a little louder. Still no response. "Good--" he cut you off.

"Morning," he snapped then returned his focus to finishing his breakfast.

"I-is something wrong, Sam? Are you feeling pain again, maybe from your ribs or your ankle?" you asked timidly.

"No, no pain there," he answered in clipped tones.

"If-if you tell me where you're hurt, I'll see what I can do to help ease the pain," you tried.

Sam looked up with a rare flash of anger in his eyes. "Listen, I don't need your help and, more importantly, I don't want your help. Besides, I think you've done enough," he snapped. You nodded, and brushed past Dean out of the kitchen, then ran to your room.

"What the hell was that all about?" Dean asked.

"Oh, like you don't know? The next time the two of you decide to hit the bar after a hunt without me, do me a favor. Get a room somewhere, then you can take care of two birds with one stone," Sam retorted.

"Now, what is that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded.

"It means, I saw you, Dean! You two weren't exactly stealthy when you got home last night. I saw you outside her room and the two of you were kissing. Don't even try to tell me 'it's not what it looks like', because I know what I saw. She wants you, not me," Sam ground out as he left the kitchen.

"Some days, it's best just to stay in bed," Dean muttered to himself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Over the next week, you and Sam did your best to avoid one another. If he was in the room first, you waited until he left before going in. When you did end up in the same room, neither one of you could look at the other, let alone say much of anything. Not unless it was absolutely necessary, like looking for a case.

Dean was stuck in the middle, forced to watch it all from the sidelines, which tore him up inside. The two people he cared about most were in pain because of a misunderstanding. He wanted to try and fix this, but he knew the two of you had to work it out on your own.

Garth called Dean with a case involving a vamp's nest that needed to be dealt with. It was fairly good-sized, so he was going to need all three of you to take it down. You didn't really want to be cooped up in the car with Sam for that long, given the tension between you. However, you were needed, so once more, you pushed your feelings down so you could focus on the job at hand.

After another successful hunt, the three of you ended up taking another trip to the bar. You decided to keep your drinking to a minimum, considering what happened last time. You, Sam and Dean settled into a booth, with the boys on one side, you by yourself on the other. Dean brought over the first round of beers, which you tried to drink slowly to pace yourself. The boys finished their beers well before you, so Sam left the table to get the next round.

"You have to talk to him sometime," Dean remarked.

"Dean, I appreciate your help, but this is one time you need to stay out. Sam's angry at me, and he must have a good reason, because he doesn't get angry often," you replied.

"Not this time he doesn't, have a good reason that is. Remember that night we finished that vengeful spirit hunt? We stopped here on the way home, and you drank too much?" Dean prompted. You nodded. "Do you remember what you said to me outside your bedroom door?" he asked.

You thought back to that conversation. "I told you that I should tell Sam how I feel, and you offered to knock on his door to get him," you responded. "Then you asked me what I would do if he was in front of me at that moment, and I....Oh Chuck," you whispered. "He saw, didn't he? He must have thought I chose you over him. That's why he snapped at me in the kitchen the next morning," you said as everything made sense.

Suddenly you had a strong urge to find Sam, to explain what happened that night. You slid out of the booth and scanned the bar area to see if Sam was still there. He was, only he wasn't alone. A gorgeous woman with long, dark hair was making serious eye and body contact with Sam. He had his arm around her and was smiling at her, then he was laughing at something she'd said. Overall, he looked extremely comfortable in her presence.

Your heart sank as you abandoned your decision to find Sam. You told Dean you were going to get some fresh air and that you'd be back. However, you had no intention of returning to the bar. Instead, you started walking back to the bunker.

About halfway home, a car pulled up next to you and the lady driver asked you if you needed a ride. You politely declined, then the stranger showed you her fangs. You turned to run back to the bar, but didn't make it. Two other vamps appeared, and when they got to you, they knocked you unconscious.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Having fun tonight, Sammy?" Dean asked, with an edge to his voice.

Sam ignored the tone. "Yeah, actually. For once I'm the one picking up the chicks. See that brunette over there--" Dean cut him off.

"Cut the crap, Sam. You know who you belong with and it's not that brunette chick," Dean retorted.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, then looked all around the bar for you but didn't see you. "So, where'd she go?" he asked.

"Like you care. Right after you left the table, she went to find you to talk to you, try and clear the air between you. Then she saw you and Ms. Right Now hanging all over each other and headed outside for some fresh air," Dean grumbled.

"Shouldn't she be back by now? I've been gone from the table for about half an hour, Dean," Sam said as concern started to creep into his voice.

As Dean caught on to what Sam was saying, his phone rang, with Caller ID saying it was you. He answered it, but on the line it was your captor instead. Dean demanded that they release you and promised that if you didn't make it out alive, he would personally slice off their heads.

"You don't scare me, Winchester. But I can smell the fear rolling off of her in waves, and it's so deeply satisfying. She's a feisty one, though, won't tell us where you are no matter how much pain we've put her in. Allow me to demonstrate," the vamp cackled with glee.

She came over to the middle of the room where you were tied to a chair. "Where are the Winchesters?" she demanded. "I'm not telling you squat," you snapped as you glared at your captors. The boys heard the sound of you being slapped across the face for your outburst.

"She's so uncooperative. Guess it's time to sample the merchandise," the vamp remarked. She could see you struggling against the ropes, so she slapped your face again. She tilted your head to the side and sank her fangs into your neck, causing you to cry out in pain. The boys could tell what was happening, and it was almost more than they could bear.

"Oh, boys, she tastes just as sweet as you'd expect. You have two hours before she becomes one of ours," the vampire retorted before disconnecting the call.

After the call ended, you heard her giving instructions to the other two on what to do when Sam and Dean showed up. Then she went back over to you. "Relax, sweetie, this is almost over. I promise that after the Winchester boys are dealt with, I'll put you out of your misery as well," she cackled as she walked away.

As soon as you were sure you were alone, small sobs shook your body, tears streaming unchecked down your face. You sent up a silent message to Castiel, hoping against hope that he was listening. If he was, then he could tell the boys where to find you, and you might have a prayer of seeing Sam again. All you wanted was one last opportunity to explain and maybe find the courage to tell him how you felt.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back at the bunker, Sam was busy on his laptop, frantically trying to locate you. He thought back on the events of the past few weeks, and how tense it's been between the two of you. Regardless of what happened before, you were still an important part of his life, and he wanted that part back.

Dean brought in the bag of weapons and dropped it with a thud onto the map table. He leaned on the table with his palms flat on the surface and glared at his younger brother. "All right, Sam. I'm sick of this. There's something you need to know about that night," Dean started.

"Not now, Dean. I'm busy trying to find her through the GPS on her phone," Sam grumbled.

"Yes, now, Sam. That night outside her door, she wasn't talking about me. She was talking about you. That kiss you saw? She said--" Sam cut him off.

"Dean--" Sam started.

Dean slammed his hand on the table, causing Sam to jump in his chair. "She said that if you were standing in front of her at that very moment, she would kiss you," he finished. "It's YOU she loves, Sam. For her, it's always been you," Dean said softly.

Sam paused in his search efforts to consider what his brother was saying. Was it possible that he misinterpreted what he saw that night? If so, then all the tension and animosity was his fault, and he had to make it right with you. He only hoped time was on their side and he would have that opportunity.

A whoosh of wings was heard and Castiel appeared in the bunker, a grim look on his face. He had heard your prayer and told the boys where to find you. Cas also gave them a description of the place so they could formulate a rescue plan on their way.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The female vamp returned to the room to see if she could get any more information out of you. If not, she said she was fine with inflicting more pain on you. She didn't get the chance to start anything, though. One of her lieutenants came rushing in to tell her that Sam and Dean had been spotted. They all knew that Castiel was likely not far behind, but he hadn't been seen yet.

At the mention of his name, you felt a light touch on your shoulder. "Cas? Is that you?" you whispered. You felt a quick squeeze of your shoulder and relaxed a bit, knowing that Sam and Dean were at least aware of your location. The female vamp leaned down next to your other ear and murmured, "Not quite done with you yet, dearie. I'll be back soon."

As soon as they were out of the room, Castiel made himself visible and started to untie your ropes. "Thank you, Cas. I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again," you mumbled as you drifted out of consciousness.

"Shh, just take it easy. I'll have you out of these ropes in no time," Cas replied. Off to his right, he heard heads hitting the floor and knew that there were no more threats.

Sam was the first one through the door and rushed to your side. He checked for your pulse and was relieved to find that you were only unconscious. His heart sank at the sight of the injuries inflicted on you by the vamps, and instantly blamed himself. As soon as you were free of your restraints, Sam scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the Impala.

In the backseat of the Impala, Dean helped secure you in Sam's waiting embrace. He held you to his chest and whispered soothing words in your ear as Dean raced back to the bunker. He was almost afraid to let go, as if you would disappear if he did. Sam silently promised you that once you woke up, he would tell you about his feelings for you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You awoke to find that you were in a bed in the infirmary, and were no longer wearing the clothes you had on at the bar. You were now wearing your sleep shorts and a T-shirt. One of Sam's T-shirts. You looked over to your left and saw Sam's lanky frame draped uncomfortably over a chair next to your bed.

When you tried to move your left hand, you saw it was perfectly entwined with Sam's larger hand. This small movement caused Sam to jolt awake and his eyes seemed to automatically lock on yours. "Hey," Sam said with a soft smile.

"Hey, Sam," you croaked. Sam handed you a glass of water to relieve your parched throat. "How long have I been out?" you asked.

"About a day and a half. I was so worried, I thought I'd lost you," Sam replied, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand. "Cas healed what he could with his limited grace, so you'll still have some healing to do on your own," Sam explained.

"Thank you for rescuing me, but I'll be fine now. You don't have to worry anymore, I can take care of myself from here. Don't let me keep you from your girlfriend," you remarked.

A puzzled look crossed Sam's face. "I don't have a girlfriend," he replied.

"Yes, you do. That brunette from the bar. I saw how the two of you were looking at each other that night," you answered. You pulled your hand from Sam's hold and swung your legs over the side of the bed. At the doorway, you turned to face Sam, who was still sitting beside your bed. "I hope she makes you happy, Sam," you said softly.

Sam couldn't believe what just happened. You had let him go, more concerned for his happiness than your own. What you didn't know is what made him happy was being with you. "Wait!" he called after you, running to catch up.

He found you resting against a chair in the War Room, trying to catch your breath before continuing on to your room. "Listen, I owe you an apology about that night you and Dean came home from the bar. I got angry because I had finally found someone that I want. When I saw you kiss him I thought, as usual, she chose my brother over me. That's why I snapped at you that morning," he explained.

"I know, Sam, because Dean and I talked about it at the bar. I wanted to clear the air with you, so I got up from the booth and looked for you. That's when I saw you with her, your new girlfriend," you replied.

"For the record, she's not my girlfriend," he firmly stated. Sam reached up and caressed your cheek with his knuckles. He drew you closer to him with his free hand on the back of your neck. "How could she be, when I'm in love with someone else?" he asked softly. Sam inched forward until your lips meshed together in a sweet, tender kiss.

"Oh, Sam," you whispered.

"Baby....," Sam responded as he dove in to capture your lips for another, deeper kiss. You melted into the embrace of his strong arms and surrendered to the feel of his hands roaming up and down your back. Your hands slid up his well-defined chest and continued until your fingers were threading through Sam's hair.

When the kiss was broken, you and Sam touched your foreheads together and grinned at each other. "You're the one who makes me happy. I love you," Sam remarked softly.

"I love you, Sam. It's always been you," you replied.

Sam's thumb gently caressed your face as his hand cupped your cheek. He drew you into another lingering kiss that left you breathless. He carefully scooped you up into his arms and placed you on the bed in his room. The blankets were already pulled back and he arranged them up and around you. Then he slipped into bed beside you and drew you into his embrace.

"No more cuddling with a pillow anymore, pretending that it's me. You've got the real thing now," he remarked. "I love you, Baby."

"I love you too, Sam. Sweet dreams," you murmured.