#think like this. hunt needs to get over himself and claire needs to know herself

[hsslilly-blog]

source

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 53 (Final Chapter)

It was the day of Loki’s birthday and his party.

Loki was woken up, not so rudely, to Claire under the blanket giving him a blowjob. She then gave him his other presents, even though he joked that was more than enough.

She’d gifted him a scarf, a new briefcase for work. He’d been going on about wanting new knives in the kitchen for cooking, so she got him a brand-new set that was quite expensive.

His favourite present from her though was a history book he’d been looking for, there was only fifty made in the world and he’d been trying to get it for years. It even had a letter of authenticity along with it.

‘How…’ He was speechless and just kept staring at the book in shock.

‘I had a lot of help.’ Was all Claire said.

‘I am forever in your debt for this.’ Loki said as he grabbed her in a big bear hug, making her laugh.

‘Says the guy who got me a bloody car! A book doesn’t compare.’

‘It so does. You have no idea what I was prepared to do or sell for this book.’ Loki said seriously.

‘I dread to think, so I’m not going to ask.’ Claire dismissed and rushed to the kitchen.

She came back ten seconds later with breakfast she had prepared for him, but he was nose deep in the book already. Even placing the food down right by him didn’t get his interest.

In the end, she had to pluck the book out of his hands to get him to focus.

‘Sorry, darling.’ He chuckled.

‘I’m glad you’re so excited about your present.’ Claire laughed.

‘I'll try and leave it till tomorrow.’ He said, though did glance longingly at the book on the table.

‘I’m sure I could leave you alone for a few hours upstairs while I prep down here for the party.’ She teased as she sat down next to him.

‘No, I’ll help.’ Loki said as they began to eat.

‘You will not! You’re not preparing your own party. I’ve got Jessica and Louise coming to help.’

‘Oh?’ Loki raised an eyebrow.

‘Yeah. I figured it would be good getting Louise over early, so she can at least meet Jessica first. Then when people start to trickle in it might be easier for her. She hasn’t been in a room with more than like three people for years. I’m not sure how her confidence will be.’

‘Ah, of course. That’s a good idea. Let her know she can go upstairs whenever she needs, if she wants some time to herself at any point.’ Loki said.

‘I will.’ Claire nodded.

When Jessica and Louise arrived just after lunch time, Claire shooed Loki upstairs with his book. Which he didn’t put up much of an argument over.

Jessica and Louise instantly clicked, which Claire was so glad of. She had a feeling they would though. The three of them had a good time setting everything up for the party, including a few glasses of wine of course.

When people began arriving for the party, it wasn’t long before music was turned up and drinks began flowing. Claire had managed to get Loki downstairs without much of a fuss, especially when she teased him with the fact she wasn’t wearing knickers under her dress, then coaxed him downstairs.

When Matt arrived, Louise was speaking to Loki. Claire took Matt straight over to introduce her to him.

‘Matt, this is my sister, Louise. Louise, this is Matt.’ Claire grinned and motioned to Louise.

‘Hi, nice to meet you.’ Louise said with a smile.

She was nervous being around people she didn’t know, but she knew she was safe with Claire and of course with Loki. Meeting everyone as they arrived was easier than walking in to a bunch of people already there.

‘Nice to meet you too.’ Matt put his hand out towards her.

She hesitated, but then eventually did put her hand into his to shake hands, though it was a very quick hand shake before she retracted her hand. Loki internally cursed at himself for not pre warning Matt that she might be a little unsure around him at first.

Claire introduced her to all the others as they arrived too. So it wouldn’t seem obvious she was trying to hook them up. Though she did make sure they ended up back by Matt, so they could talk.

‘Remember, if you need space just say. You can go upstairs.’ Claire whispered to Louise.

‘I know, thank you. I’m fine, honestly. I know I’m safe with you guys. And everyone seems really nice.’ Louise assured her.

Louise, Claire, Loki, Matt and Spencer were together talking casually, when Louise became distracted looking over Claire’s shoulder. Claire saw her eyes widen.

‘Who is that?’ She asked in a little awe.

Loki and Claire turned around to see Chris entering, heading right their way.

‘Ah… That’s Chris, Loki’s brother.’ Claire told her.

Chris was halfway across the room towards them, but his eyes were locked on Louise, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. As he drew closer, Loki saw his nostrils flaring as he took in her scent.

‘Chris, this is my sister, Louise. Louise, this is Chris.’ Claire quickly introduced, though she wasn’t sure if he heard her or not because he was so focused on Louise.

Louise’s cheeks turned red as Chris stood on front of her, looking completely in wonder, Loki had never seen him look at someone like that before.

‘It’s lovely to meet you.’ Chris eventually spoke, his voice low and smooth.

‘Lovely to meet you, too.’ Louise squeaked out, she put her hand out towards him straight away without hesitation.

Chris took her hand in his and felt electricity shoot through his veins. He slowly lifted her hand and dipped his head down to kiss the back of her hand when she didn’t pull away.

Louise couldn’t take her eyes off of him, Loki sensed her heartbeat spike, but not in fear. He also sensed Chris’ heartbeat spike too. He looked at Claire and she looked at him, both sharing the same look.

‘Brother, I need a quick word.’ Loki said as he put his hand on Chris’ shoulder.

Chris only just managed to tear his eyes away from Louise to glance at Loki, Loki motioned towards the kitchen with his head. Chris reluctantly agreed and let go of Louise’s hand.

Louise’s skin was tingling where he had kissed her.

Loki dragged Chris into the kitchen and shut the door so they could have a little bit of privacy.

‘Please tell me what I think is happening, is not happening.’ Loki whined.

‘She… She’s my soulmate! I can feel it.’ Chris said breathless, unable to get his mind to work properly.

Claire entered the kitchen and shut the door behind her, to see Chris looking like he’d just found gold and Loki with his face in his hands.

‘Is she your soulmate?’ Claire squeaked.

‘This is not happening.’ Loki said firmly. ‘Not Louise! Anyone but her!’ He groaned.

‘She’s beautiful.’ Chris said, his voice was a little high, like he was in a trance.

‘To be honest, you are totally her type. Tall, dark, handsome, tattooed. Plus being a vampire… Heck, I’m surprised she hasn’t spread her legs for you already.’ Claire teased with a laugh.

‘We are trying to hook her up with Matt! Not whore her out to my brother!’ Loki argued.

‘Not going to happen.’ Chris growled low and turned to head back through to the living room.

‘Oh no… no, no, no!’ Loki chanted in a panic and darted after him.

Claire, however, had a huge smile on her face and she felt fuzzy in her heart for Louise and Chris.

Perhaps her match-making hadn’t worked out exactly as planned, but it seemed that her sister was getting a match anyway.

‘Oooo, we could double date!’ Claire said excitedly to herself as she rushed after them.

-

NOTE: There is a sequel! There's so SO much more to go with these guys. Instead of making it a super long fic, I thought a sequel would be better, which will become apparent why when I post the first chapter next week.

[watching-sam-and-dean-again]

Times when Supernatural Non-Villain Recurring Characters Should Have Been Smacked

I know there are a fair few fans who just love the side characters on SPN, and wanted the show to morph into some ensable monstricuty, but I could never understand it. And I really could never understand them acting like side characters are just as important (or more so) than Sam and/or Dean (let’s face it, mostly Sam 🙄). I like plenty of side characters, but some have some seriously crappy moments, so in honor of that … here is my list of characters who deserved a good smack on occasion.

John - when he didn’t come when Sam called him about Dean dying, at the end of "Home" when he didn’t reveal himself to the Boys, for not saying goodbye to Sam in some way in IMToD, and for telling Dean he might have to kill Sam (his flaws are acknowledged by the show, so I don't feel the need to elaborate)

Jo - when she blamed Sam and Dean for their dad's actions, after forcing them to bring her on a hunt in "No Exit"

Ellen - for never hugging Sam

Bobby - for looking at Sam like he’s a freak when he’s suffering hallucinations and treating Sam like trash when he has no memory of hurting Bobby while soulless in "Like a Virgin"

Castiel - calling Sam an abomination, threatening to throw Dean back into hell, acting like Sam knew what would happen if he killed Lilith (and never admitting he’s the one who let adict Sam out of the panic room), beating Dean in "Point of No Return", betraying the brothers in Season 6, breaking Sam's hell wall (he should have been killed for this, tbh), refusing to help stop the leviathan problem that was his fault … until basically forced, abandoning Dean in Purgatiry, beating the crap out of Dean … again in Season 8, for buying Metatron's BS and helping the angels fall, the way he forced Jimmy to let him posses him and essentially destroying the whole family, letting Lucifer out of the cage, blaming Sam when he himself let Lucifer out of the cage, ignoring Sam's texts when he and Dean are having a bitch fight in Season 15, not saying goodbye to Jack or Sam

Charlie - for acting like Sam and Dean are inconveniencing her when they saved her life in her first episode, for making fun of Sam having "zero luck with the ladies" as if this is a funny joke when most of the women he loved/could have loved DIED, thinking hunting isn’t "magical" enough and never taking hunting seriously, talking to Sam Fucking Winchester about hunting as if imparting wisdom and as if her experience could even touch what he’s been through

Cole Turner - for every second that he spends on screen, and using nicknames for the boys when he doesn’t even know them.

Jody - JK, I can’t actually think of anything she did that bothered me. She’s pretty good.

Becky - do I need to explain this one?

Amelia - for being a royal bitch when Sam brings the doggo in to the vet, for almost every interaction she has with Sam and being a jerk, and for commenting on completing Sam's sentences like it’s some cute thing they do when she’s the one who keeps doing it

Claire - for being stupid enough to stomp around in a strop (wearing headphones) while hunting because Sam rightfully called her childish and getting herself bit by a werewolf, for being bitchy to Alex

Jack - for killing Mary, and for waking up Castiel in the empty

Late Seasons Mary - for working with the BMoL after they tortured Sam, for telling Dean he’s not a child in the most condescending way ever, for putting literally everyone before Sam and Dean (especially the apocalypse world tools), for never actually apologizing to Sam's face (and just mentioning it once to Dean when she didn’t know Sam could hear her), for the stupid way she got in Jack's face and got vaporized

Okay, rant over for now.

If anyone read this far, what side characters (who aren’t supposed to be villains) have you wanted to smack and why?

[lunaetics]

claire pushed her father's shoulder. "what were you thinking? you could've been hurt!" no sooner than the words left her mouth did she throw her arms around him. her heart still raced with the fear that he could've been hurt for making for getting in the middle of that. she knew it'd been the right thing to do, but it had terrified her nonetheless to think of the danger that he'd put himself in.

before she could wrap her head around any of what had just happened, they were all somewhere else. the courtyard of a house far more extravagant than any she had ever been in. she looked around at everyone gathered here; they were all strangers to her, as far as she could tell. new orleans was huge, so it was not a surprise. still, she got the feeling that they were all linked together now. whatever they had witnessed had not been the end of it.

julia startled⎯"oh, jesus!" she swore, dropping the grape that she'd stolen from the table⎯at the sudden appearance of everyone. she rested a hand to her heart, trying to catch her breath. at her side, lux stared at one of the men, the one with his arms around the young girl. though julia couldn't fathom what lux's issue was, she nudged her. "manners," she chided.

lux nudged julia back, but obediently pulled her eyes away. she hadn't meant to be rude, but it was rare for people like her to be in the same space as cherubim. though she'd once sworn to ajani that she would not pick fights with the divine anymore, she still felt herself tense in preparation for a fight, if that was what it came to.

though, she could see, they had bigger problems than timeless feuds.

"is that your sister?" she asked, stepping closer to see the unconscious woman. lux could tell that she wasn't human; she radiated the same power that ajani and his other sisters did. the only clear difference was that her power was fading, right along with her life. "what did that to her?"

"not a clue," dean muttered. he looked to sam, then. "we should call jo. she might have an idea what we're dealing with." jo was the reason they were heading into the city in the first place; there were jobs here, sure, but their old friend had set roots here some years ago and they'd been eager to reconnect with her. now, more than ever, dean needed a bit of her knowledge on the current events of the supernatural world.

"it's gone," julia said after a few minutes, bringing lux's attention to her, as eshe continued to tend to uche. julia once again had her arms wrapped around herself, as if made uncomfortable by the very air around them. "whatever did this to her, it's not here anymore. i can't feel it. it's like it was never there in the first place."

"it's gone already?" claire asked. "how is that possible?"

julia shrugged. "i don't know. it appeared out of nowhere and it's gone just as quickly. all that's left is something... electric, almost. like lightning struck and now it's gone."

ife did not condemn any of them for speaking⎯heaven only knew they would have questions, as she herself did⎯but she could not focus on what they said, either. she could not look away from her sister. though uche's heart was picking up speed again and her wounds were starting to close, ife could not forget how she'd looked only minutes ago.

had she ever seen any of her siblings so weak and in pain? she remembered, suddenly, painfully, the night that ajani had attempted to hunt down the wolf that had bitten her. he'd died then, attempting to avenge her. it had been the worst night of ife's life and the worst trauma she could remember. she had lost many loved ones over the years, and that was not a pain that she could numb herself to. but nothing compared to the knowledge that her brother had once died for her.

the story of uche's transformation was not quite so tragic, because she, unlike the others, had asked to be made different. she did not want to grow old and allow her siblings to outlive her. so she'd asked eshe to make her something other, something that, too, would outlive this painful world. eshe had given uche a piece of all of them: ajani's blood and ife's venom and her own magic. uche was the product of all of the lessons eshe had learned and the reward for all that they had lived through. their sister, unharmed and as eternal as they were.

she had been made invincible. so how could she be lying here now, wounded and bleeding profusely?

what monster was strong enough and skilled enough to nearly kill a being that was almost as old as humanity itself?

"i am," ajani nodded, as lo and annika jogged across the street to join them. "thank you all, for helping my sister." he touched ife's shoulder soothingly. "come with us. she will need help, and if those things are still out there, we'll all be safer together."

castiel stood, now that the fight was over, and walked the few steps to the car door, opening it up and holding his arms out for his daughter. "claire, sweetheart, are you okay?" he asked her, feeling both relief that she was safe and a fresh wave of terror at the danger she had just been in. looking up at the others gathered, he nodded in agreement. if those beings had simply vanished, they could reappear at any moment, and the wounded motorcyclist may need more help, as well.

"that sounds like a good idea. but how...?"

before castiel could finish his sentence, ajani was kneeling down beside uche and whispering to her soothingly in their mother tongue before lifting her into his arms. "we'll be able to get her back quickly. eshe?"

"of course," eshe stepped forward; though ajani and ife would have been able to run far more quickly than any human could imagine, the running could potentially jostle uche, and cause her further pain. it would be fastest, and safest for all of them, if she were to transport them all at once. before castiel even fully realized what was happening, he found himself standing, rather suddenly, in the courtyard of a building. he looked around at the others, and eshe smiled gently.

"the car is outside, as is the motorcycle. i thought it best not to leave any trace behind. now," she said, turning to where ajani stood, holding uche. "let's lay her down. you said it was poison?" she asked, already beginning to gently remove the nails, mindful to be as careful as possible. "it's okay, baby," she told her sister softly. "we'll have you back on your feet in no time." she knew uche was ever the independent sibling, and, after all, being what they were, they had never had to fear for one another's safety, not really. seeing any one of her siblings like this shook eshe to her core, and she fought back her own tears as she tended to her sister.

"wolfsbane and vervain," sam said, "and sulfer, i think." whoever had planned this attack had cast a wide net, and it terrified him, to be honest; who would want to kill anyone or anything so badly that they would go to such lengths, to make sure to cover every single possible base, plan for any outcome?

ajani started, looking at sam, then at dean. "you're sure?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"yeah. why?" sam asked, eyes widening in concern. he had only just met ajani, but already it was startling for him to see him look frightened. there was an air about the man that conveyed strength and composure; seeing him rattled made sam feel rattled, too.

"we can talk more about it after she is alright, if you don't mind," ajani said, and sam's head dropped apologetically.

"of course. i didn't mean..."

"i know," ajani said, his voice kind. he did know that no harm had been meant; after the events that had just transpired, he imagined everyone had questions they couldn't answer, and perhaps together, they could piece together an answer. but he couldn't think of it, of anything else, until he knew his baby sister would be alright.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Well, since I’m on a Prodigal Son kick, you guys get a little bit of the Claire Montgomery au.

Which I think is the correct name??? I’m never sure what the proper Claire is because I’ve seen that one and Clare used for Martin, and I’ve used both, so... but I’m gonna go with Claire because it’s slightly off from the Clare used in the hospital’s name.

And because Martin seems like the sort to go with the more feminine version. He did comment on it in the show, I just gave the loser a last name.

So, here’s some angst, during his and Hardy’s relationship! :D

Warning: talks of canonical deaths in both series, spoilers for the end of season two of Prodigal Son (it’s been nearly a year, do I need to mention spoilers? :O)

On with the fic!

--

Sleep alluded Martin, and he hated when that happened.

In the old days, when he had been free and living a much better life than he had in the twenty years he was locked away, he would get up and let Jessica sleep. He’d go and make himself something to drink to help ease him back into a sleepier state, or he’d go to his study, look over his research.

Twice he went out and tried to find himself someone to... kill. But neither of those worked out and he didn’t try again, it was useless anyway.

In the hospital, he had wandered his cell for a bit, trying to wear himself out, or he’d, again, go and look over his research. Not a lot of options in his cell.

But here? In Broadchurch, where he was able to do whatever he wanted because he was not Dr. Martin Whitly, where he was former Dr. Claire Montgomery? He could wander about with not a single care.

Martin removed himself from his bed, got dressed into clothing more fit for the night, and stepped out into it.

No longer at the inn, instead at the caravans where he at least had some housing until he could figure out what he wanted to do with his life, Martin made for the town to wander the empty streets.

It was late, after two in the morning, not much activity here in such a small town. Better than New York, where it was never not active, even during blackouts or bad weather, where people just kept going. He liked that, he liked being in a sleepy place like this, it was... nice.

But who knew how long it would last.

Ainsley had called earlier in the day, saying that Malcolm was still on the hunt for him, still trying to find where he had ran off to. She didn’t know herself, she could never tell Malcolm even if he did figure out that she was Martin’s inside man in all of this.

“My boy...” He said to the nothingness of night, unconsciously grabbing at the spot where he had been stabbed in those woods. There was still a fire of anger and pride in Martin, anger for those nasty words his son had said, for the hatred Malcolm felt towards his own father.

Oh, but the pride, the pride of knowing that Malcolm, despite everything, was like himself. If he had died that day, Martin would have died proud, knowing that they really were the same, because Malcolm killing him would completely confirm it.

But he hadn’t died, no, he was given another chance, and Martin took it. He didn’t want to kill, never again, that life was over. Martin Whitly was dead to him, in a sense, at least... the Surgeon was dead.

He found himself wandering about the cliffs, looking out over them, at the dark waters and sand below. 

“It’s rather beautiful, this place.” He commented to himself, but heard a sound behind him, though he didn’t turn. He could tell from the breathing he knew who it was. “Wouldn’t you agree, Alec?”

Alec looked a bit out of breath, tired from both the walk and from a lack of sleep. Martin bit his tongue, knowing better than to comment on that.

“You left.” Alec said instead of an answer.

Yes, he had left the man sleeping in his bed, he didn’t want to wake him, knowing Alec needed all the sleep he could get. “Sorry, I’ve had... a lot on my mind.”

“Like what? Was it the call you got earlier?”

Clever man, it worried Martin that Alec would figure him out longer before Malcolm put the puzzle pieces together and knew where to find him.

He’d have to be careful, he didn’t want to lose Alec so soon, not when he was so happy with the detective. God, his life had really changed since his escape, he never figured he’d befriend someone in law enforcement, let alone date one.

“Yes, just some... bad news from the states, nothing to worry about.” He tried to seem like it wasn’t bothering him, but Alec knew better, he always did.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Honestly? No. It’s personal... very personal. I don’t want you to worry about it, or to be involved, you know? Just something to do with some old business I left behind.” Martin shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, looking down at the grass. 

“Hm. That’s fair.” Alec replied, walking up to stand next to him, looking forward, then glancing behind. “My first case here in this town happened here.” He commented, so easily, yet Martin could still hear a tightness in his voice.

“Oh? The-the one with the boy, yes?”

“Yeah. This isn’t a pleasant spot to begin with, no guard rails, for one thing, anyone could fall to their deaths from up here.”

“Nasty way to go.” Martin replied, thinking about Jerry and what happened to him. He’s sure someone falling from up here would have a slightly softer landing though, but still just as deadly. “Seen it happen once. Well, not on a cliff, but... off a building.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, I’ve seen worse.”

He’s done much worse, with his own hands. His fists tighten in his pockets, he can feel his nails digging into the palms.

Alec nodded. “Being a doctor, I’m sure you have. You should go home, the town might be quiet and, uhg, ‘wholesome’, but terrible things have happened here during nights. Best we leave, go back to bed.”

Alec was a good man, Martin thought, looking at the tired detective, and that scared him. Martin normally would manipulate, play his word games, mess with someone like him, but he couldn’t do that to Alec. He could lie, yes, be vague, sprinkle the truth here and there but never give him enough to know the truth. But he could never harm him, not like he had done to so many others.

However, it’ll only be a matter of time when Alec will no longer see him as Claire Montgomery, he’ll see him only as the Surgeon, and everything Martin had worked for would be destroyed.

Alec never needed to know.

He smiled, taking Alec’s hand. “I’m feeling a bit tired again, let’s get to bed, dear.”

Alec never needed to know, for his own safety.

--

Okay, I know Ainsley is involved in Martin’s original escape, but for this au she is much more involved than Malcolm knows. 

[casmick-consequences]

Cas&Dean VS Claire&Jack

So I wrote [a small little theory] a while ago as to why I think Claire and Jack wouldn’t have been shown on screen together/have any connection throughout the show on-screen/off-screen at all. And so here I will some points as to why I think that is. 

AKA here’s the long awaited essay/conspiracy theory y’all have been asking for.

First of all; let me start off by saying this is 100% meant as a joke (no it’s not) and it’s not to be taken seriously (yes it is) as it’s literally just a dumb theory (it definitely isn’t). And second; fuck the C*W for contributing to every little bit of tinhatting this fandom (especially us hellers) has succumbed to.

-

Now; for this theory we have to understand a few things:

How Dean and Cas work as individuals

How Claire and Jack work as individuals

How Dean and Cas work as a duo

Let’s start with the first two things.

How Dean and Cas work as individuals

Dean Winchester is a masculine, tough but loving hunter. He cultivates a “bad-boy personality”, and makes sarcastic jokes at even the most morbid times. Underneath, though, he's become hardened by life as a warrior (as Daddy’s blunt instrument, if you will). He’s been taught to fight his father’s battles, and protect the ones he loves and cares for. But soon began to see that neither of his parents (especially his dad) did the job they were given when they had children. He didn’t just have to be a brother; he had to be a father and mother. He’s had to grow walls around him to stay strong for his little brother, but over time, after making a family for himself, it became easier to tear those walls down. However, he has his weak spots and is an emotional and loving human being through and through.

Castiel, the Angel of Thursday, is an angel of the Lord. He’s lived for aeons, and as an angel has (just like Dean) been taught to fight the battles of his creator and father. He’s a warrior, and he’s been given the job to follow the orders of said creator. Only for those orders to be thrown out the window once he meets Dean Winchester. The man who showed him that hate and anger isn’t always the true answer and that you can choose to be good. Everything that he has been taught slowly breaks away as his hard exterior crumbles, and he develops into a being with emotions, as he slowly but eventually learns to love and care for this man, and with that; humanity.

How Claire and Jack work as individuals

Claire Novak, a woman who has lead a tragic life, where she lost both her parents early on. Her father said yes to be the (permanent) vessel of an Angel, and her mother just disappeared after dropping her off to her Grandmother. After the grandmother had passed away, she was left alone. She had to fight through the world on her own, as she put a wall around herself to make herself stronger for the people around her. It took a while before she found her place in a loving family filled with strong women, who didn’t just help bring her walls down, but build a home instead.

Jack Kline is an innocent, naive but loving Nephilim. The son of the human Kelly Kline and the archangel Lucifer. He was destined for evil, as a Nephilim is one of the most powerful creatures in existence. But, with the help of his three Godfathers (heh), he learns that he doesn’t have to be evil. He can be whatever he wants to be. Controlling his powers has been hard, but no matter what happened, his mindset never changed as he grew to love the people and love the things around him. His biological father saw his power, but his chosen father saw his kind soul. Castiel believed he could create paradise, and he did, as he became the God that the universe deserved.

There are alot of parallels between Dean/Claire and Jack/Cas that can be compared to here. Let me show you a few:

So we’ve established that with Claire being Dean-coded, and Jack being Cas-coded, there could’ve definitely been potential for a cute Claire/Jack dynamic in the show. Why wouldn’t they have done that, you think? Perhaps this question can be answered when we look at thing number 3:

How Dean and Cas work as a duo

Destiel is the relationship between the hunter Dean and the angel Castiel. Castiel was ordered by God to free him from Hell, and afterwards he was supposed to do as he was told while Dean was supposed to figure out how to “stop the apocalypse” which happened to be a bunch of garbo afterwards knowing what we know now. Nonetheless, Castiel didn’t listen, as he quickly grew fond of the hunter and, because of him, developed a sense of emotion and free will. This lead to Castiel helping Dean throughout the Apocalypse, and beyond, and they’ve been best friends ever since.

There have been MULTIPLE essays on Tumblr about how this relationship works, and it would be silly of me to try and summarize stuff that hasn’t been said a million times already. But basically; What they have is quite a bit more than best friendship. It has been confirmed in 15x18, Despair, that Castiel has been in love with Dean for quite some time, as Dean’s own feelings are kind of all over the place. Nothing has been confirmed, yet nothing has been denied. But, seeing as all the insane things Dean has done for/because of/regarding Castiel... for instance:

defended his behavior to his brother and father when neither trusted him in season 6

kept his trenchcoat when he “died” in season 7, and keeping it with him in the trunk of his car(s) for the entirety of Castiel’s absence.

absolutely despises angels, and hates praying, yet he only ever prays to Castiel when he needs anything because he’s the only one he trusts

couldn’t get his mind of of him when he was possessed by Lucifer, and later taken by Amara in season 11

Has Castiel being referred to as his Colette by Cain (subtext but not really subtext because it was so incredibly obvious)

was supposed to be completely enamored by Amara and was supposed to be so hypnotizingly attracted to her that he couldn’t focus on anything else, yet he called out for Castiel’s name when it came down to it (aka the equivalent of calling out someone else’s name during sex) 

keeps looking at him like that

acted like a grieving widow when Castiel died in season 13

gets down on his knees to pray to, cry for and apologize to Castiel in Purgatory when there’s millions of creatures hunting his ass

...it’s easy to say that this is more than just a “brotherly friendship” between the two. There is dialogue that would NOT have worked between Sam/Cas because it would’ve felt weird. I wonder why.

So now to get back on topic; why is it that we’ve never seen Claire and Jack on screen together?

Is it because the writers didn’t have time to put them together in any given scenario whatsoever? Is it because the writers didn’t care enough for Claire to give her some more airtime with the boys? 

Or is it perhaps that if there was a possibility that they’d be on screen together, that they’d have a very similar (if not the same) connection to one another as Dean and Cas, only written as an actual little brother/big sister friendship dynamic?

-

So yes, TL;DR: the actual reason that Claire and Jack never met is because they would’ve had the exact same dynamic as Dean and Cas, but in this case platonic. Which would’ve meant that the audience would’ve seen a clear difference between the Dean/Cas dynamic and Claire/Jack dynamic, and it would’ve shown that the way they’ve been writing and directing the Dean/Cas scenes is romantic.

thank you very much, and I bid thee a very good night. <3

[icefire149]

An Angel’s Vow

Chapter Ten - (Read on ao3 | Read from the beginning)

It didn't take long to get all the shopping bags in the house. With the heel of her boot, Claire held the front door open for Cas. She knew it was because of his angel powers, but she was still silently impressed by his carry-it-all-at-once-I'm-only-making-one-trip game.

Claire followed behind him with Jack in her arms. He was still deep asleep and his face was squished into her shoulder. His downy hair pressed against her neck. She kept a hand on his back while they went into the living room.

Cas unceremoniously dropped the bags in the center of the room. He turned and his eyes softened, falling on the sleeping nephilim. "I can put Jack to bed." He held his hands out.

Wordlessly, she passed Jack over, and watched Cas take a moment to study the baby’s sleeping face. A prickle of irritation made her want to snap, that she didn’t do anything to damage the kid, but she managed to keep it choked down. Cas murmured something to Jack’s temple, and then he left a soft kiss there. After that he promptly disappeared upstairs. A weird tight feeling circled through Claire’s chest. She suddenly felt very alone.

Trying to push that thought aside, Claire started poking through the bags until she found the one with school supplies. They somehow managed to fill an entire bag with pens, notebooks, post-it notes, and high-lighters. Now she had to find a place for it.

Claire brought that bag into the kitchen and stood there for a moment surveying the room. Eventually she decided to toss it onto the table. With a shrug, she figured the table would be where their hunter school would happen anyways.

When she circled back to the living room, Cas was already there and sorting the clothes. He glanced at her over his shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. “Did you take the notebooks? They’re not here.”

“I beat you to them. They’re in the kitchen,” she said pointing with her thumb over her shoulder.

Cas nodded, and went back to making two piles. The next bag he picked up made him pause. “Oh, this one’s yours.” He passed it over.

“Thanks,” Claire mumbled, biting the inside corner of her bottom lip. She rolled the plastic bag in her hands. Inside was the black bomber jacket with the blue stripe down the sleeves and the galaxy shirt Jack picked out. Some tiny part of her just couldn’t leave them behind.

Cas went back to sorting the clothes immediately. Sighing, Claire slowly made her way towards the staircase. She didn’t particularly want to help, but she did glance back at Cas again. The bottom step groaned under the weight of her foot. “Hey Cas?”

“Yes?” He looked up. The traffic-cone, orange sweater, that Claire dubbed an abomination, was in his hands.

“Where were you going to store your stuff upstairs: in the closet or the drawers? I don’t wanna get in the way while I’m borrowing the room.”

His gaze squished into an intense squint. “I hadn’t thought about that yet.” The corner of Claire’s mouth hooked into a small, amused smile. Cas continued, “I suppose though...that I should just repack everything into the bags again. Store them out of the way down here.”

“Why?” Claire’s eyebrows furrowed. “You have an entire bedroom.”

“Yes, but I gave it to you. I wouldn’t want to overstep.”

Her smile vanished. Claire crossed her arms. “I’m living out of a duffle bag and the backseat of my car. I’m not messing with the furniture in your room.”

Cas’ head turned to the side. “But you could unpack and use that space while you’re here.”

“Or you could put your shit away like a normal person, because it’s YOUR ROOM!”

Standing up straighter, Cas tossed the sweater aside on the couch. His stare never broke from Claire’s. “For all intents and purposes the room is yours. I already told you that I don’t need a bedroom.”

“And I thought you said that I was free to leave at any time!”

“You are. I don’t under-”

“NO. So I’m supposed to just pretend I don’t see the whole little family act?” Claire took her foot off the step. Her voice dripped with venom. “Is this whole ‘helping me be a better hunter’ thing just something to ease your conscious? You couldn’t run away from playing house this time….so why not try to make up for lost time?”

Claire shoved the plastic bag into Cas’ chest as hard as she could. Cas didn’t flinch. He didn’t speak either. The shine in his sad, blue eyes made her want to scream.

The next thing she was aware of, Claire was slamming her car door shut. Her hands trembled, and that pissed her off even more. Again and again, she slammed her hands into the steering wheel until her eyes were too blurry to see a damn thing.

-

Claire had no idea how much time had passed when she heard a light knock on the passenger side, front window, but the blanket of night was indicator enough that it had been a while. There was no point in looking, she knew who it was so instead she started wiping the remaining tears away with the palms of her hands.

The door creaked opened and Cas slid into the front seat. In with him came the wafting smell of hot food, and Claire’s stomach immediately growled. She finally turned to him, and Cas held a plate out to her in one hand and a covered container in the other.

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you bring me grilled cheese and…?”

“Creamy tomato soup.”

She took both, and got herself situated with the plate in her lap and the soup container in her hands. But  Claire stopped herself before digging in. She eyed the grilled cheese cautiously. Only one corner looked like it was auditioning to be a piece of charcoal. “Did...you cook? Like actually made this from scratch?”

“Yes.” He looked away, leaning his elbow on the door. “And the house is still standing.”

“Why did you cook when you know it’s a hazard?”

Cas sighed, and rolled his gaze back over to her. He held it for several moments before speaking. “Eat before your food gets cold. I can still remember how unpleasant that can be.”

Nodding, Claire started taking big mouthfuls of soup. They sat there like that in silence while she ate. Cas stared out the window lost in his own thoughts.

It wasn’t until Claire’s bites slowed down that Cas finally spoke. “I’m sorry.” Claire burst into a coughing fit. Her mouth had been full, and that was the last thing she was expecting from the angel.

He continued while eyeing her carefully. “I never meant to upset you. I’m in no way trying to force anything on you.” Cas turned away and leaned back in the chair. He stared at the ceiling above him.

“I know.” Claire’s voice was quiet. She put the empty soup container in the cup holder between the front seats and slid the crumb covered plate onto the dashboard. “Loo-”

“It surprised me….I surprised me..when I asked you to meet me out here. Giving away my secret location…”

“Why’d you do it then?” Claire ran her index finger across the side of the steering wheel. “You won’t even let the Winchesters near Jack.”

Cas shifted his whole body as much as he could in the front seat to face her. “I was scared when you said you were hunting alone. The feeling was overwhelming.”

“I’m not a child, Castiel.” Claire clenched her jaw. The embers of her anger were growing hotter again.

“I’m aware.” There was a low warning tone in his voice. “Don’t mistake or misshapen my fears. This isn’t about coddling you or...treating you like you’re incapable.” The tension eased in Claire’s jaw. He continued, “Those feelings mean…..your presence as well as your absence...they matter to me. You matter.”

Claire stared at him in disbelief. Her hands squirmed awkwardly in her lap. “So the teaching sessions…?”

“I haven’t lied. I want to help you, and I want to pass my knowledge along.” His head tilted just a bit. “Claire, I’ll never be able to repay you or...make anything right. I know that, but….this is something I can do. And selfishly...I’d like you to be the best.”

Claire’s lip twitched. “That’s...uh..a high bar.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth pulled into a small grin. “Honestly, I don’t think it is. Many hunters speak of Sam and Dean like they’re legendary. And….while I understand the reasons why….”

“They’re stumbling ass-backwards into everything,” Claire grinned.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Cas deadpanned. He shook his head. “The difference maker is knowledge and I have millennia of information.”

Claire’s gaze fell to her lap. She felt a myriad of emotions bouncing around her head. It made her chest feel tight. “So….this is about your guilty conscious.”

“No,” Cas frowned. “Um...uh, well, to a degree, yes. I’ll never forgive myself for the wrongs I’ve done, but my guilt isn’t why I care...or why I want to see you succeed at something that I hear you enjoy a lot.” That got Claire to glance back at him. “I see you as my friend and as my family. Just like Sam, and Jack, and Dean. And...things have been hectic since I last saw you. A part of me honestly called you here, because I missed you.”

“You did?” Her lip twitched.

He nodded. “Initially, I thought distance would be better. I didn’t think you’d want me around….” Cas glanced down at himself and sighed. “or to have to look at me.”

“Well that’s not the case,” Claire snapped. Cas looked at her startled. Her voice softened. “I thought I never wanted to see your face again….but then I’d hear through the grape vine that shit was going down...and I’d be waiting to hear from you.”

She crossed her arms and refused to look at Cas. “I figured that if Jody was on Sam and Dean’s goodbye list for the end then I was on yours, right? And then I’d get radio silence.” Claire paused. The pain in her voice didn’t hide well. “It sucks being disappointed all over again…”

“I’m so sorry. I-I…” Cas reached a hand out but stopped halfway between them. Looking away, he withdrew his hand. His next words tumbled out in a whisper. “Of course I would have called you….I wasn’t able to when things went….badly...I’m sorry. That’s a poor excuse.”

Claire rolled her gaze over to him. “Explain then.”

“Okay,” Cas nodded. “So...Dean was dealing with the mark of Cain.”

Claire raised an eyebrow. “That was a while ago.”

He sighed. “It was, but it’s where a lot of bad things started.”

“Okay. Continue.”

“It took a lot of effort to free him from the mark, and….he was resistant. Turns out he had good reason instinctually. Removing the mark also removed the bindings keeping the Darkness out of creation.”

“The Darkness? With a capital D…...Jody wasn’t kidding about that?” Claire stared at him incredulously.

“No, regrettably. Her name’s Amara, and….she’s God’s sister.”

“Yikes.”

Cas shook his head. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Claire turned in her seat, bending a leg and leaning her back into the door. “Sooo the mark broke and the Darkness was released. Nice going dumbass.”

“I know…...and it got worse.” Cas rolled his eyes. “The witch we had helping us with the spell-work, Rowena, she stole a very powerful book when the spell was complete and she….hit me with her magic.”

Claire sat up straighter. “Magic works on angels?”

“Yes, but luckily not perfectly,” he said very matter-of-fact. “She calls it her attack dog spell. And it makes the victim rabid until they drop dead with bloody eyes.”

“What….did it do to you?”

“I….I eventually broke through the rabid behavior, but I was still at the mercy of Rowena removing the spell completely. And she was persuaded to do so, but it did have lasting affects…” Cas wouldn’t meet Claire’s eye. He was carefully choosing his words. “The spell might have killed me in the long term, but it did dig deep into my being and shredded everything it touched. I’m grateful Sam and Dean were there for me during that time. The recovery was...longer than I would have liked.”

Claire nodded and ran a hand over her knee. “What happened with Amara?”

“Oh...yes. Amara.” Cas took a deep breath. “After that, Amara was the pressing issue. She took a personal interest in Dean as...he was the last bearer of the mark.”

“Gross.”

Rolling his eyes, Cas chose to ignore that. He continued, “We learned that it took Chuck….um, God – he likes to be called Chuck – and all the archangels to cage her away before.” Claire grimaced. “And there’s only two archangels left.”

“Okay, that’s a not so fun fact.”

“No. There’s nothing fun about that.” Cas shook his head. “And they’re both caged in Hell so….they weren’t exactly available.”

There was a quiet pause where Claire was still processing every bit of information Cas shared. She didn’t miss that he seemed to be growing uncomfortable. He was twitching and pulling at his coat sleeves. And then, it dawned on her. “You asshats freed the devil, didn’t you?”

Defensive, Cas argued, “We….I was trying to do what was best..for everyone.” Claire’s gaze narrowed. “Lucifer was our only option. We didn’t know where or who God was, and Sam was receiving visions as answers to his prayers. Sadly, we were being tricked.”

She nodded. “So, rip the band-aid off. How’d you do it?”

Cas frowned. “I….I couldn’t ask Sam to make that sacrifice again. Lucifer wanted to use him as a vessel again.”

“Again?” Claire coughed. Cas hummed in response. Claire continued, “We need to go back to that later. Keep going.”

“And Dean nee-the whole world needed Amara gone. To do that we needed Lucifer. So I said yes.”

Leaning forward, Claire dropped her face into her hands. “You let the devil walk around in my dad’s body. Your body.”

“I’m not infallible, Claire.”

“My dad would be spinning in his grave...if he had one.”

“Yeah….let’s not tell Jimmy about that. He would be rather upset.”

She lifted her head and stared at him oddly. “Last I checked Heaven doesn’t have cell service. How am I supposed to tell him anything?”

“That’s fair.” Cas shrugged. “These days I feel like anything is possible eventually. I’d like to be prepared.” Claire nodded. “Granted all you need is to send an angel with a note.”

Stunned, it took Claire a moment to speak. “If you weren’t hiding from Heaven...you could talk to my parents?”

“I could.” His voice came out softly. “If there’s anything you want me to pass along to them...let me know. One day I may be able to….or at the very least I might run into an angel I trust that could do that for you.”

Claire shifted her gaze so she was looking out the windshield instead. Quietly, she turned his words over and over again in her head. She was still processing when she gave him a small nod. After a few more minutes she was ready to push that information aside for a while. She turned back to Cas. “So if Lucifer was walking around in…..well, where were you?”

“Oh, um…” His gaze fell to his lap, guilty. “I agreed for him to possess me so...uh, I was right in here..as well. Only, he was in control and I had no way to overpower him.”

“You agreed to be trapped in your own mind?”

He still wouldn’t meet her eye. “Yes.” The silence stretched on long enough that Cas glanced up and saw that the last traces of Claire’s anger had cooled. She looked concerned, and between that and the guilt of his past mistakes, Castiel felt like his airway was being crushed.

“What….what happened next?”

“That’s where...it gets...uh, Dean...would call it fuzzy. I’m aware that he did pretend to be me, but that was short lived. He lost my car. He terrorized Heaven, and Hell. I’m told…..” Cas’ voice grew quieter. “-that Dean, Sam, and some of our tentative...allies..they put a lot of energy into reaching me so I could expel him.”

“Good,” Claire snapped. Cas’ looked at her quizzically. “What? I’d kick their asses if they didn’t fix your boneheaded dumbassery.”

His tone was sharp. “I did what I thought was necessary.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it was stupid.”

“I know,” Cas barked. They both sat there in their frustration for a bit. “Eventually….Chuck came back and Amara tore Lucifer from me. Problem solved.”

Claire glared out the window. Her jaw was taut. “Don’t do that again.”

“I don’t intend to. It was vile.” Exasperated, Claire exhaled loudly. Cas continued, “Chuck and Amara came to an agreement and the world was fine again. Lucifer was free so I spent my time pursuing him.” He didn’t miss the shiver that Claire tried to hide. Softly, he added, “But there’s nothing to worry about anymore. He’s caged. He’s just a distant memory.”

They sat there in silence after that. Eyes closed, Claire leaned her head back against the glass of the window. “Thanks….for you know, telling me…”

“Thank you for...being understanding,” Cas said gently.

She opened her eyes. “Our lives are insane.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be.” Claire shook her head. “Things suck, but I’m glad I met Jody, and Alex, Sam and Dean.” Her eyes looked sad, but there was a soft smile fighting to stay on her face. “Jack...and you.”

Dumbfounded, Cas nodded. The emotions swelling in his chest felt inordinate. Her words meant more to him than he knew how to express.

“Whoa!” Claire flew forward, putting her hands on the dashboard and pressing her chest to the steering wheel. “Did you see that?”

Castiel tensed. “What?” He leaned forward, studying the view in front of them.

“The lights flickered. Like some kind of power surge.” She opened the car door. “Come on, let’s see what Jack did this time.”

Exhaling, Cas deflated in his seat for a moment. He knew what caused the electrical issue and it wasn’t Jack. Cas took another deep breath and composed himself. He swiftly got out of the car, taking the trash from dinner with him. Before Claire could open the house door, he paused, “Claire?”

She pivoted on her heels, turning around. “Yeah?”

Momentarily, he struggled to find the right words. He knew that he needed to get this out now. “All...um, all you need to do is ask.”

“What?” She looked at him like he grew several more heads.

“In the future...if you decide that you want me around more...or less. Just ask.”

Claire rolled her eyes, and pushed the front door open. “Yeah, yeah. I get it now.” Cas followed her into the house. She went to the staircase and paused on the bottom step again. Her eyes found his. “I’ll consider it when you start doing the same.” She went upstairs, leaving Cas confused in the living room.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed): 

@nightandwine  @autumnapologist

[tiledis]

Although Hardy appears to have absolute control over Claire on the surface, emotionally, I feel that Claire believes she holds the dominant position over Hardy; she thinks she can manipulate him. I remember there was a post that mentioned this before, but I can't find it now.

Hardy has a very obvious fatal flaw—his self-sacrificial nature. He is willing to go to any lengths to protect the innocent; he is someone who desperately needs to be needed. In Sandbrook, he openly displayed this trait, like a soft snail parading around without its shell. For someone like Hardy, all Claire needs to do is play the role of a person in distress, and Hardy would be willing to give everything to help her. Coincidentally, at that moment, Claire wasn't the only one with nowhere to turn—Hardy was in the same situation. The loss of the pendant not only led to the case's failure but also caused Hardy's family to fall apart. His home no longer welcomed him; his former wife no longer loved him; his job no longer needed him; his daughter no longer talked to him. He had nowhere to go, and that's when Claire appeared.

We can observe Claire’s way of talking to Hardy early in season two. She often uses phrases like "I need you" because she knows Hardy can’t resist that. Claire is very aware that this allows her to grasp control over the DI. She ensures she holds leverage over others in almost every matter to protect herself: Hardy, as a detective, clearly shouldn't be acting this way—it could get him into trouble (as he tells Ellie in S3: “You can’t keep giving your personal number to people!” Well, he himself couldn’t follow that rule, which is quite interesting).

However, Claire overlooked one thing—Hardy’s self-esteem is so low that in the end, this “leverage” fell short because Hardy didn’t care if he was dragged down too.

Claire is a charming trap, and Hardy feels responsible for protecting her. She is the reason he came to and stayed in Broadchurch; he needs to unravel the mysteries surrounding her and solve the Sandbrook case. He still believes in giving an answer to the parents of the dead children.

Claire’s actress mentioned in an S2 interview that both Claire and Miller initially established their friendship for their own purposes, and the same was true for her and Hardy at the start.

This is clearly shown in Hardy's official short story "Thirteen Hours": Hardy knew from the beginning that Claire was hiding something. Our Hardy is a very sharp observer. He did tell Miller that he had always known Claire was a suspect. (This explains why this official short story "Thirteen Hours" was released after the final episode, as they couldn’t reveal Hardy’s true thoughts about Claire too early.)

We can see some beautifully executed scenes in S2 where Hardy brilliantly breaks down psychological defenses. The actors' performances are exceptional.

Hardy is not innocent because he actively allowed himself to step into this trap, allowing Claire to cast her spell on him.

No matter how Hardy presents himself as someone hard on the outside when we see him, he has always been that person who couldn’t bear to see a child floating in the water, willing to risk his life to rescue the body of a stranger girl in the first place. Now he sports a beard, layers of jackets, and a detached personality to fortify his shell, but inside, he remains someone with strong empathy and extreme softness. So naturally, water continues to pursue him, almost as if hunting him.

Ellie Miller is the one who breaks this spell.

Water will suffocate Hardy and kill him, but Miller won’t. In the official novel, she indeed has an innate ability to handle the sea (in chapter seventeen, when they go to inspect the blood-stained boat, it is written: “Miller’s got good sea legs – probably bred into her”).

Moreover, she is truly an outsider, just as Hardy is an outsider to Broadchurch.

At the beginning of season two, Hardy ignores Claire’s calls because he wants to focus on Ellie and Joe’s case. So Claire directly comes to find him, saying she is in danger. Later, Ellie meets Claire. She immediately senses something is wrong and later tells Hardy to cut off these people who are clouding his judgment, telling him to get rid of Claire’s control over him.

So Hardy calls Claire. He suddenly says, “It’s me. We’re done. I was supposed to protect you from Lee, but you don’t need that anymore. You keep changing your story. This isn’t working, Claire. You have to move on.”

And Claire’s first reaction is, “Alec, where are you? Let’s talk in person.”

Just like in S02E01, she knows that meeting him in person allows her to manipulate him. But Hardy refuses. At this moment, Ellie is supporting him from behind. Miller stands behind him. With Ellie, he is confident that he is doing the right thing. He trusts that Ellie is objective.

Claire is confused. She had always believed that she had Hardy, the puppet, tightly wrapped around her finger. She really couldn’t believe that Hardy would drive her out.

“It’s over, Claire.” He looks back at Ellie, who nods at him, affirming his decision.

Broadchurch (2013-17) Episode 2.08

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 57: Gatto’s Keep

Becoming The Mask

Trollish and -text messages-

I hope we all enjoy the movie when it comes out this Wednesday! Remember, today’s the last day to start binge-watching and still have enough time to watch every episode of all three shows before the movie airs!

+=+

Four humans, one Changeling, and two unaltered trolls were scatted around an underground library, researching notable locations around the world.

"Whoa, listen to this," said Jim. "Surrounding the Hero's Forge of Heartstone Trollmarket is a chasm known as The Deep, which was enchanted through unknown means by the Trollhunter Kanjigar the Courageous."

They were hoping to find notable mountains, in particular, but 'caverns deep' had also been mentioned in the riddle, and hey, maybe Strickler had been wrong about where the Eye was before the Changelings got it.

"Anyone cast into The Deep will suffer death at the hands of their greatest fear. It has since been used as a means of execution for particularly heinous criminals. No troll is known to have entered The Deep and lived."

Jim frowned and traced over that last sentence with his fingertip.

"How does anybody know it works if no one has ever come back?" he said. "Maybe they just die on impact after getting dropped off a cliff. Or maybe there's, like, a little society down there now and they're just choosing not to leave."

"I saw a cartoon like that once," said Toby.

"Also," Jim continued, "I understand why, if you think somebody deserves to be tortured to death, you would use magical means to get them to come up with a customized torture for themselves to maximize their suffering; but why would you kill someone, who you definitely want executed, in a way that makes it impossible to check and confirm they're dead?"

"Isn't that how oubliettes work?" said Mary.

"Good point."

"You understand torturing people to death?" said Darci.

"I understand trying to do a thing a thoroughly as it can possibly be done."

"Maybe Kanjigar pretended to enchant the place so he could have a spot no one would bother him if he wanted to get away from his job for a while," said Toby.

"Surrounded by the bodies of executed criminals?" said Darci.

"Depending on how hard they landed, they might already be gravel," said Jim. "It's a little unsettling when you know that used to be a troll, but you get used to it. Besides, Kanjigar was only Trollhunter for … what, just under a hundred and seventy years? How many 'particularly heinous criminals' could there have been down here in that time?" He turned to Blinky. "No, really, I'm asking."

"Offhand I can only think of three cases, all involving treason. Perhaps Kanjigar can explain the enchantment next time you visit the Void. Ah!"

Blinky turned his book so everyone else could see the illustrated mountain.

"Gatto's Keep! Deep in the realm of the Volcanic Trolls, in what you humans call 'Argentina', under the volcano Ojos del Salado."

"The eye of the salty?" said Claire.

"Believed to be named for the many salt deposits found on its glaciers, forming eye-like lagoons of meltwater," said Blinky, brushing the interruption off.

"Salt gets expelled through volcanic ash," said Toby. "Or chlorine gas that fuses to nitrogen later. Underwater volcanic activity is part of why the ocean is salty."

"Fortunately, this particular site is not underwater," said Blinky. "Gatto's Keep, a vault of treasures untold – treasures deemed too powerful for the underworld to possess, and kept locked up by Gatto himself."

"Have you ever met this Gatto?" asked Jim.

"Uh … no. Truth be told, I've done everything in my power to avoid him. Very few ever return from his keep."

"I see." Jim frowned down at the book in his lap. "Then maybe you guys shouldn't come."

"What?"

"Are you kidding?"

"The last time we went on a Triumbric Stone quest, a supposedly mostly safe quest, we ended up in the middle of a violent revolution!" Jim reminded them. "I'm not leading a bunch of kids somewhere I know in advance is going to be dangerous!"

"He makes a fair point," conceded Blinky.

"But you can't just go on your own!" Toby protested.

"Of course I won't. Blinky's got to drive the Gyre, and I'll bring Draal for muscle, and –" Jim cut himself off, looking quickly around the room. "Maybe someone else, but I'll have to ask. And if she can, it'll have to work around her schedule."

"You're bringing your mom?" Darci asked.

"No!" Jim recoiled from the idea. "I – Look, there's a Changeling I know who might be able and willing to help, especially for a chance at a legendary vault of forbidden treasure, but I have to ask."

Toby got out his phone and texted Jim rather than asking out loud.

-It's the museum lady, isn't it?-

Jim just glared at him. Both boys deleted the message.

+=+

"Have you ever heard of Gatto's Keep?"

Nomura raised her eyebrow at the Trollhunter.

"Not much. It was one of the places we suspected a piece of the Bridge might be hidden, but considering it had a reputation of no one ever coming back from it, we weren't actually sure if it was real."

It was just as likely to have been an old story that got passed down until it became a figure of speech. The Janus Order’s references to it were all from before Nomura was even stationed on the surface – she'd happened upon them while on archive duty decades ago.

"Blinky says it's real." Jim shrugged. "Or at least Gatto is real, and lives in Argentina. We're planning to go see him about an artifact he might have."

"You're not looking for the Triumphant Stones, are you?" she asked. "Draal's told me that story." Years ago, back when he'd first tried to convince her to change sides. It was the closest he'd ever been to philosophical. "Building a weapon is one thing, but chasing prophecies is another."

Jim shrugged again. "If I'm going to do this, I might as well take every advantage I can. The Triumbric Stones might not be the key their reputation says, but they'll still help."

"Assuming the stones aren't just a trap that will put the Amulet under Gunmar's control."

He snorted. "Oh, come on. If they worked that way, Bular would've been the one to bring them up."

"Not if the conspiracy went deep enough." She snorted as well. "Sure, I'll help loot the place."

"If diplomacy fails," said Jim insistently. "I want to at least try cutting a deal first. When do you have time?"

"I don't work Wednesday or Thursday."

"Great. I'll text. Oh, also," he suddenly looked much more shy, "this comes with a risk of a human or several finding out about you. Still in?"

Nomura leveled a glare at Jim, letting him squirm while she thought it over. (He didn't squirm at all, the shameless wretch. Just looked at her with that stupid timid hopeful expression.)

"For a chance at a legendary treasure trove like that, I might transform in public."

Human public, where they could make up some excuse about hidden cameras and movie costumes and practical special effects, not Trollmarket public, but most Changelings wouldn't need to clarify that.

+=+

Nomura had a duffle bag slung over her shoulder and was wearing a wide-brimmed brown fedora.

"Isn't that Stricklander's hat?"

"It's traditional garb for archeological expeditions."

"You stole it, didn't you?" His inflection made it clear this was not really a question.

"I'm going to send him a selfie and see how long it takes him to realize it's his." Nomura held her phone out and snapped a picture.

"Hi, museum lady!" Toby greeted. They were meeting in the canal. "I brought tacos!"

"… Why are we bringing him?"

Jim sighed. He hadn't wanted to, but Toby made a good argument.

"Diversity of perspective. A human might notice something a troll or Changeling would miss, just like vice versa. We don't know how organized this Gatto guy's collection is. We might have to go looking for the Birthstone."

Thankfully Claire had a 'family thing', Darci had an 'extracurricular commitment', and Mary had a date, all on Wednesday, and he had been able to get that information without revealing Thursday was also an option.

Inside, Nomura shifted to her troll form, keeping the hat showing. Toby gasped.

"You're so tall …"

"Toby, Nomura," introduced Jim. They started climbing down the glowing staircase. "Officially, she's one of Draal's old sparring buddies who's agreed to come on this mission for extra muscle."

So please do not address her as 'museum lady' where anyone can hear you.

"Isn't Draal coming too?" asked Toby.

"Which is how she got invited."

"I don't get it."

"She's going to meet Draal while you and I go to the library, and then we're all meeting up at the Gyre station."

"Why didn't she just –" Toby stopped and readdressed the question to Nomura. "Why didn't you just meet up with Draal at Jim's place?"

"I'm avoiding the chance Barbara will try asking me for life advice again," said Nomura lightly.

Jim's eyebrows went up. He hadn't questioned her suggestion to meet in the canal, but now he really wanted the story there …

"When did that happen?" asked Toby.

"We're in the same krav maga class."

Which did not completely answer the question, but Toby seemed to think it did, and Jim didn't want to push when Nomura was arguably doing him a favour.

On the one hand, he could claim to be doing her a favour, taking her along on a treasure hunt where she could sneak out an artifact or two for herself, but on the other hand, she was loaning her experience in identifying and handling ancient artifacts and dealing with stuffy curators. The situation was roughly neutral and Jim didn't want to tip it.

The walk to the library, and to the Gyre station after that, were peaceful. AAARRRGGHH accompanied them as far as the station entrance.

"Good luck," he said, tapping his horns against Blinky's, rubbing the top of Jim's helmeted head like he was fluffing his hair, and giving Toby a very gentle pat on the back.

"I will look after them," Draal promised, arriving with Nomura. "We will all return from Gatto's Keep."

"Well, now that you've said that," Nomura teased.

+=+

Jim's first impression was that Ojos del Salado looked like a construction project was underway. Or, maybe a mining operation? The mountain was hollowed out, with another mountain inside, and the inner mountain was covered with ladders and scaffolding.

"Ugh, it's so hot," Toby complained. "I know it's a volcano, but still." He pulled at his sweater vest but didn't take it off.

The local trolls wore what looked like welding masks over their faces, and had faintly glowing orange lines carved into their skin. Two appeared to be standing guard near the Gyre station – but facing in, towards the complex, rather than outwards to new arrivals.

Very few ever return, rang loudly through Jim's mind.

"Excuse me," said Blinky to one of the sentries. "We would most graciously request an audience with Gatto."

The troll wordlessly pointed them to the top.

"Ah … thank you, kind friend."

Toby was groaning after the first few ladders. By the time they neared the top, he had stopped, probably to conserve energy – but he managed another when they realized the platform was empty.

"Where is he? They pointed 'up' but there's no more 'up' to go … Did he leave while we were climbing up here?"

Jim eyed the stone the scaffold was built by. It might be climbable. There was a long but narrow ledge about level with the platform, and a tall, V-shaped protrusion probably taller than AAARRRGGHH, and – the ledge split apart. It glowed inside.

"Who has awakened Gatto?"

The mountain-in-a-mountain opened two glowing yellow eyes. A chuckle made the platform shake.

"A human Trollhunter?" the mountain-in-a-mountain said. "How interesting. How … unique. To what do I owe this … pleasure?"

Jim cleared his throat and leaned back a little so he could look Gatto in the eye. "We've come to ask –"

One of the masked trolls arrived, pushing a wooden cart of rocks. The delivery-troll darted away just in time to avoid a massive tongue, and ran back off the platform into the lower scaffolding. Jim reflexively summoned his knives. It was difficult to will them away.

"You must excuse me," said Gatto. "I never talk business without something to eat. Go on."

"We've come for the Birthstone."

"Birthstone of Gunmar?" The mountain troll chuckled again. "Very powerful. Tell me … why should I give it to you?"

"Of course we don't expect you to just give it to us."

Jim ignored Draal's quiet, "We don't?" He took off his backpack, handed it to Blinky, and unzipped the top.

"We've come prepared to trade."

"We did?"

The first thing Jim got out was black and rectangular. Its cord was plugged into a crystal array which some trolls used to substitute for electrical outlets, to power the neon signs and Christmas lights and televisions down in Trollmarket. Blinky had one for his phone charger.

"This is an uncommon human device. You activate and deactivate it with this button here." Jim pushed the button twice, demonstrating. "By turning these knobs, it's possible to generate a custom frequency of audible static."

He put the white noise generator back in his bag, and got out a lumpy object wrapped in a towel. He draped the cloth over his shoulder and held the item where Gatto could see it.

"This is the head of Bular, son of Gunmar, taken as proof that he was slain. Proof that Gunmar's line is not unkillable."

Gatto looked intrigued. Jim rewrapped the head in the towel and switched it for a book. Blinky grimaced during the exchange.

"And this is a document stolen from a Janus Order base; an unfinished medical study of foods that provide nutrition to both humans and trolls."

He flipped through a few pages so the text was visible, proof he wasn't scamming Gatto with a blank notebook, and put it away.

"Seller's choice. Rare artifacts that carry entertainment, power, and knowledge. Which of those would you accept as payment for the Birthstone?"

"Hmm …" The mountain troll pondered the selection. "I think I will have all three. Along with the answer to a little riddle. Answer it correctly – the Birthstone is yours. Answer it incorrectly – I eat you all."

"WHAT?" Toby yelped. "Did I understand that right? Did he say 'eat'? He said 'eat'!"

"Breathe, Tobes." The Sword of Daylight was in Jim's hand. His first instinct was to pick Toby up and bolt for the Gyre. He should be strong enough for that if he switched to troll form, right?

But they needed the Birthstone …

"Master Jim, we must not enter into this binding agreement," Blinky hissed in English. "I'm beginning to catch on why so few trolls ever leave this domicile."

"We'll play!"

"Nomura?!"

"It's simple – either we figure out the riddle and he gives us the stone, or we refuse to answer, which is not technically answering incorrectly, and fight our way out."

"… When you're right, you're right," Jim agreed.

"You think you are clever," said Gatto. "So answer me this. What begins and has no end, and ends all that which begins?"

Blinky blinked, in full unison for once, all six eyes together. "… I have absolutely no idea. Those words mean nothing! Indecipherable!"

"Begins and has no end," Jim repeated to himself quietly, "and ends all that begins."

"I … don't think I can help," said Draal reluctantly. "Rocks for brains, remember?"

"Well, that attitude's not helping, for sure. Begins with no end, ends what begins …"

"School bus?" Toby guessed, switching back to English. "Uh, meatloaf? Hair?"

"Let's think logically," said Nomura, also in English. "In these situations, the answer is almost always one of four things: death, nothing, eternity, or a riddle itself." She counted them off on her fingers. "The answer to a riddle is its end. Eternity by definition doesn't have a beginning or an end. So it's either death or nothing."

"Ten more seconds," said Gatto ominously.

"You didn't tell us we were on the clock!" Blinky protested.

"What begins and has no end, but doesn't end when it begins –?" Jim punched his hand. "Shoot, that's not it! Could you repeat the question?"

"Kangaroo! Golf! Socks! Magic! Warhammer! Baby deer!"

"DEATH!" shouted Nomura. "The answer is death!"

"What?" Gatto gasped. "No one has ever answered that before … and lived to tell about it."

The celebration at getting the correct answer ended immediately.

"And that's the hazard of riddle games where the answer is death," said Nomura. "Most riddle-givers pick that answer because it's what they plan to give the riddle-solvers anyway."

The group was surrounded by four masked trolls, all armed with axes about twice the size of the hammer Toby carried.

"Your entire keep is a trap!" Blinky accused Gatto. "You hoard treasures as nothing but bait!"

"Oh, come now. A mountain has to eat, you know." He opened his mouth, like he expected them to just obediently walk in.

Jim summoned Daylight. The volcano trolls all flinched back from the burst of light.

Nomura lunged at the guard nearest to the ladder. She caught the axe between her swords and twisted it out of the masked troll's grip, flinging the weapon into Gatto's mouth – he yelped when it caught his tongue – and in the same spin she kicked the masked troll off the platform.

Draal punched a masked troll, then grabbed them and another one and bashed their heads together.

Blinky swung Jim's backpack like a flail at anyone who got too close to him. Jim heard a cracking noise, either from the head or the white noise generator, but that wasn't important.

Jim swiped a masked troll across the belly, leaving a shallow cut and causing them to bellow in pain. He threw a knife at another one that was going after Toby, who was doing his best to parry their axe strikes.

Nomura kicked another one off the platform, and Draal threw a third, but more were climbing up, and driving the group back towards Gatto's mouth.

"Get them!" Gatto egged the smaller trolls on. "Prepare the chimichurri!"

A masked troll landed a punch on Nomura and knocked her backwards into Toby. Gatto's tongue flicked out and tossed them both into his mouth.

"I don't want to be food!" Toby howled, before Gatto's jaws snapped shut around them and the mountain gulped.

"Toby! Nomura!" Jim screamed. "TOBY!"

"RAH!" Draal charged Gatto –

"Draal, no!" Blinky shouted.

– and Gatto simply opened his mouth again and swallowed the rolling troll.

Jim's helmet sealed as he switched to troll shape. He threw a volley of knives at their attackers, who backed off for the few seconds he needed to shove Blinky to the ladder.

"Get to the Gyre!" he roared. At one level down, below that horrid mouth, he turned and lunged at Gatto.

Swallowing wasn't instant. If he could get the throat open, he could still save them. He didn't know if he could gut a mountain but he'd find out if that was what it took to get Toby back –

Daylight was a sword, not a pickaxe. Jim slashed and stabbed, and scratched with his now-clawed gauntlets and boots, and made barely any headway.

"Jim!" Blinky was now several levels of scaffolding lower, and fending off more of the smaller volcano trolls with an axe he must have grabbed from one of them. "Were we not attempting to vacate?"

Jim let go of Gatto and slid down the mountainside, and with another roar he stabbed the troll nearest to Blinky through the eye with one of his daggers, shattering the lens on that side. The troll bellowed in pain and clutched their face, dropping their axe. The dagger vanished, leaving an open wound, and reappeared in Jim's hand. He sliced into the arm of another attacker.

The troll with the injured eye staggered and, between the pain and the sudden loss of depth perception, knocked the other masked trolls off the platform. Blinky threw the ladder after them, reducing pursuit from above.

Jim turned to start burrowing through Gatto's hide again.

"Jim!" said Blinky again. "We must leave!"

He barely heard Blinky. He certainly didn't hear his phone, chiming the alert for an incoming text.

+=+

The stomach was even hotter than the 'outside' had been. Toby had gone through both his water bottles during the climb up to meet Gatto and didn't have any left. Not that this was his primary concern at the moment, considering –

"We just got eaten!"

"I noticed," said Nomura scathingly.

"Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, this isn't happening, this isn't happening –"

"Do you have an international plan?" she said, interrupting his entirely justified freak-out.

"What?" asked Toby. "What does that have to do with anything? We're in a stomach! It doesn't matter what country the stomach's in!"

"Ugh. I'll take that as a no." She got her phone out of the duffle bag she carried and shoved the device into Toby's hand. "Text Jim. We're alive, Gatto's Keep is Gatto's gut," gesturing at the gold and artefacts around them, "and we're going for the Birthstone."

Assuming the lava-acid, which was rising, didn't get them first.

Draal came down the tunnel, fast enough he shot over their heads and over pool of lava-acid, skipping once (with a roar of pain) and landing on the other side.

"Draal! Are you okay?" It was a stupid question that Toby asked without any conscious thought.

Draal uncurled and growled. He gingerly touched his right arm, which looked shinier than usual and must have been what touched the lava.

"Where are we?"

"Gatto's Keep," said Nomura. "I guess that's one way to deter theft. Find the Birthstone. And be careful what else you touch, some of this might be cursed." She put a triangular thing with green gems on it into her bag. "We'll crawl up his throat and choke him or something once we've got it."

Wow, Nomura was not a detailed texter. Toby saw the last few messages she'd exchanged with Jim while he was typing.

Jim: -Today still works to check that collection?-

Nomura: -16:30- -canal-

Jim: -Okay, see you there!-

Toby, on Nomura's phone: -still alive- -gatto's keep in stomach- -going for birthstone-

Toby put her phone in his pocket and started digging through the piles of gold.

Curses or no curses, if Nomura got to take souvenirs, Toby was totally stealing some of these gold coins.

And maybe that glowy purple rock –

Wait –

"I think I found it!"

+=+

Jim – Jim couldn't do it, he couldn't stab deep enough to cut Gatto open and protect himself and Blinky at the same time –

He kept having to abandon his spot and climb down a few levels, and start over at an even thicker part of the mountain's hide –

Blinky kept urging him to the Gyre, but they couldn't leave, not yet, they had to get Toby back, they had to get Nomura and Draal, they couldn't just leave them behind –

Jim drew one of his poisoned knives. He carried more varieties on him than just Creeper's Sun. Gatto couldn't get away with this. Jim was the Trollhunter, he wasn't going to let some troll eat a human right in front of him. He wasn't going to let some troll eat Toby and live.

He drove the knife into a cut he'd already started with his sword, and left it there while fending off the masked trolls again, then ripped it out.

If Jim didn't manage to kill Gatto today, the troll would suffer a much slower death.

+=+

Draal had been favouring his burned arm. He looked up the steep tunnel of Gatto's throat and tried to lift his burned arm, and grunted in pain.

"I … I can't climb out. You'll have to leave me behind."

"What is wrong with you today?" Nomura demanded. "You've never been this – this fatalistic before."

"Guys," Toby interrupted. "There's another way out, but you're not gonna like it. If this is his stomach, then there's a 'back door', and if we upset the stomach," he tossed a nearby crystal into the acid, where it dissolved with a flatulent sound, "then we might have a chance to be passed through."

Nomura grimaced. "We're going out that way eventually." She started tossing things into the acid as well. "I'd rather go out alive."

"What are you both –? Oh." Draal's eyes widened and he looked like he might have an upset stomach himself. "That's – ugh. The shame of being remembered for that."

"There's no shame in survival," said Nomura.

Draal grabbed an entire shelving unit of bottles and threw it into the acid, where the potions exploded with blue light. He fell back and began coughing.

"Draal?!" Toby cried.

"I'm alright, I'm – is that my voice? Is that my" – he coughed again – "voice?" The high squeak had gone back to its normal gravelly depth. Draal shook his head and helped Nomura shove a heavy crate into the acid.

Toby started coughing too. It was so hot and smoky …

The troll, the Changeling, and the human climbed onto a boulder that hadn't melted yet. The lava continued to rise. They balanced precariously. Draal and Nomura were both forced to duck as they got closer to the ceiling.

"I guess this is my last chance to eat these," Toby lamented, taking out a taco. Nomura's eyes widened. Toby had only taken a single bite when she snatched the food and the bag out of his hands and threw them into the gut-lava. "What –? No! Those were Diablo Maximus!"

"And if this doesn't work, you'll die with that taste in your mouth."

The acid level started to drop – spiraling like it was going down a drain. Draal wrapped his arms tight around his two smaller companions.

"The back door!" cried Toby. "It's open! I gotta text Jimbo!"

All three of them screamed as they surfed on the boulder through Gatto's volcanic intestines.

+=+

Blinky kept an eye on Jim as they climbed and ran and fought and climbed some more. It had taken until they were nearly halfway down Gatto's sides to convince Jim to flee instead of continuing to attack. Blinky was ready to physically pull the boy along if he tried it again.

This was awful. Horrible. And all Blinky's fault, besides. Coming to Gatto's Keep had been his suggestion, and it had cost three lives already, and if they died here as well, the Amulet would become another part of Gatto's collection, no good to anyone.

But there would be time for blame and grief and stewing over what else might have gone wrong once Jim and Blinky were out of there and no longer in mortal peril.

Gatto tried to grab them with his craggy hand. Jim roared and nearly deprived the mountain troll of a finger.

Gatto said something, but his head was too far away now for Blinky to make it out. It might have been 'nachos'?

Another taunt about how he intended to eat them, no doubt.

"No more guards?" said Jim. They were off the scaffolding now, and it looked like a straight shot to the Gyre station.

The ground started to crack and rumble ominously. There were spurts of lava, and a smell Blinky hadn't expected but regretfully recognized. They ran faster.

Someone screamed behind them.

"Start it up! Start it up! START IT UP!"

"Toby!" Jim yelled.

Tobias, Nomura, and Draal erupted out of a rock wall nearby. They all cried out when they crash landed, and then ran for the Gyre just as Blinky and Jim were doing. Draal grabbed the Gyre's outer wheel and, with a bellow, set it spinning to jumpstart the vehicle. They piled in, and zoomed away.

It was a miraculous escape. Blinky would have to record this for the history books.

"I am – so sorry," he said to them all. Even at the Gyre's speed, it would take some time to get to Arcadia from Ojos del Salado. "If I had realized the nature of Gatto's Keep, I never would have brought us there."

"He did have the Birthstone," said Nomura. Blinky turned just enough to see her with his outermost eye. She seemed unscathed, and was still wearing a hat. Her bag was now bulging with whatever else she'd … claimed as recompense for the trauma of today's experience.

Blinky turned the other way to check as best he could on Jim and Toby. Draal was in the centre of the Gyre bench and hardest to see without turning around, though Blinky could at least tell he was there.

Jim was wrapped around Toby. His helmet was open again, and his eyes were glowing. Toby was clinging to Jim as well, and breathing hard.

"I saved us," Tobias bragged. "My tacos were the key to our grand escape." Jim tightened his grip.

He didn't let go of Toby until they reached Trollmarket. AAARRRGGHH was waiting for them at the Gyre station. (And oh, that made Blinky's gut twist, to think AAARRRGGHH had been sitting there awaiting their return and they might not have come back because Blinky had led them into danger.) AAARRRGGHH reached into the basket to help Toby and Jim disembark.

Jim let go of Tobias and swiped at AAARRRGGHH with Daylight.

AAARRRGGHH recoiled, unhurt physically – Blinky had seen the distance between his hand and the sword – but wounded all the same.

"Jim?" said Toby. "Dude, calm down."

"Red eyes," said AAARRRGGHH. Jim's eyes were still glowing. "Hurt?"

Draal, who had been climbing down the other side of the Gyre, grunted and lost his balance. When he got up, Blinky finally got a proper look at him.

"Great Gronka Morka, Draal, what's happened to your arm?!"

His right arm was half grey, with pits starting to form where the dead stone had cracked, and the patches that were still blue were far glossier than was natural, like he'd spent a month buffing and polishing his hide.

"Gut-lava," said Draal. His eyes were out of focus. "And straining. And that fall, just now."

"He used his arms to shield us while we were – getting out," said Toby, giving a sideways look to Jim before finishing that sentence. "And he landed badly coming in."

"Need Vendel," AAARRRGGHH decided. He offered his open hand to Jim and Toby again. Jim growled and readied his sword.

"You two take him," Nomura said. "Jim can't go through the market with his eyes like that, and he's not going to calm down until he stops thinking he has to protect his human from another troll any second."

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH looked at each other. Blinky split his focus to look at AAARRRGGHH, Jim, and Draal at the same time. AAARRRGGHH looked from Blinky, to Jim, to Draal, then back to Blinky, and nodded.

AAARRRGGHH moved to stand on Draal's injured side. Blinky climbed out of the Gyre – Jim turned the sword towards him for the moment it took to get to the steps, moving closer to the human and Changeling than he'd been whilst at the controls – and stood at Draal's other side.

He was loath to leave, but Draal needed medical attention, and Nomura was right that proximity to larger trolls seem to be increasing Jim's distress.

Blinky turned an eye back to Nomura.

"What about you?"

"I'll stand guard and make sure no one else walks in on this." She sat on the floor and opened the bag she'd been carrying. "I can get started on cataloguing while I wait."

"And will you be alright, Tobias?" Blinky asked.

"I think so?" The boy looked at Jim uncertainly. "Dude, it's Blinky and AAARRRGGHH. They're not gonna hurt us. Shouldn't it be my turn to be freaking out right now?"

+=+

"I'm sorry," said Vendel to Draal, as gently as the brusque elder was able. "The damage is … severe. I suspect your arm cannot be saved. I advise that we amputate, to keep the cracks from spreading higher, so your shoulder can be fitted with a prosthetic."

Draal grimaced. He stared at his cracked, pitted arm and flexed his fingers with a wince. A few more chips came loose. He touched one of the worst with his uninjured hand.

For the examination, the leather strip that usually wrapped around his right wrist was removed, showing the scarred crack that extended onto his hand. Vendel remembered treating that wound – he'd been worried Draal would lose his hand then as well.

"What if we used metal packing?" asked Draal.

"You lost some mobility in your wrist last time," Vendel reminded him. "If we tried that now, with your more extensive injuries, the amount of metal necessary and immobilization while you healed would likely lock the joints in place for good. And we would need to clear out the dead stone before we begin. Depending on the depth of damage," which was already and obviously deep, "your arm might come off in any case."

"… Can I have some time to think about it?"

In a sense, no, because the longer he went without treatment (beyond the painkillers Vendel had already given him), the worse his injuries would get, and the more likely it was the decision would be made for him.

"If you can remain still while you decide, I can give you a few hours."

"Thank you."

Vendel was not a prayerful troll, but he prayed he wasn't just giving Draal false hope.

+=+

"Hey, your eyes are blue again!" Toby cheered. "That's a good sign, right?"

"Maybe."

"And you're using words!" He patted Jim on the shoulder. "Think maybe we can get off the Gyre now?"

Jim looked at Nomura, still sitting on the station floor in troll form with her stolen treasures spread around her, and shook his head.

Early on in her sorting process, she'd propped up one of her treasures next to the Gyre – a trident with a red gem set on a ring below the fork. The red gem had started glowing when she'd turned the ring and seemed to be sucking all the heat from the room, which was an incredible relief for Toby's overheated skin.

"Dude, come on. I thought she was, like, your friend?"

Nomura laughed. "Oh, we go way back."

"… I can't tell if that was sarcasm or not."

"It wasn't," said Jim.

"So why is she scary to you?"

"Excuse me, are you not intimidated by me?" she asked, casually running her finger along the length of one of her cool swords. Which seemed like kind of the opposite of helping Jim calm down.

"You helped us," Toby reminded her.

"And we're all richer for it," she agreed.

Seriously, was she being sarcastic or not? Or, maybe not sarcastic, but … teasing? Was that it?

"You got eaten," said Jim, as though Toby could possibly have forgotten this. "By a troll. You getting eaten by a troll is literally one of my worst nightmares. I can't … I can't let you be in Trollmarket right now. There's too many trolls I don't know. I probably shouldn't fight them all, but I'm going to want to."

Toby sighed and turned back to his phone. He loved Go-Go Sushi, but there were only so many times he could play it in a day.

Oh, hey, wait, phones.

"Here, you should take your phone back." He put it as far down the Gyre's foldaway steps as he could reach without getting off the boat and having Jim grab him again. Nomura waited until he was back in the boat before standing to get it.

"Why do you have Nomura's phone?"

"From when we texted you we were alive. She's got an international plan and I don't."

"I didn't notice the text come in," Jim admitted.

"That's fair. You would've been pretty distracted."

+=+

Draal didn't want to lose his arm.

He had no regrets about what he'd done – if he hadn't been there, Nomura or Tobias would have been the ones hurt, or might even have fallen off the boulder and died – but he would rather have been able to save them without ending up in this position.

Draal liked his body. He liked his arms. He liked his strength and agility, and his reach, and how easy most weapons were to use, and how easy it was to switch between going on two legs, all fours, or a roll.

Whatever happened now would change that. Patch job or prosthetic, he'd have to restart his training to compensate for the change in balance. He wouldn't have the same reach or flexibility anymore. His grip on two-handed weapons would change.

It would have been easier, in a way, if he'd been hurt badly enough for the arm to come off on its own. Then at least he wouldn't have to decide whether to have what was left of it cut off, or to try and salvage it and risk seeing it crumble away in any case.

He wished his mother still lived in Trollmarket. Ballustra was a weaponsmith, but she had done prosthetic work as well, and helped with injuries that needed metal packing. He trusted Vendel to give him good advice, but … Draal wanted his mother.

(She'd gone back to the Old World a few centuries ago, after she and Kanjigar had divorced. Draal hadn't actually seen her in person for almost twenty years now. He hadn't realized how much he missed her until he started thinking about her.)

He sighed heavily. The movement of his chest caused his arm to move on the table. A few more pieces flaked off. Had they been already broken and sitting there, or had they just broken away? Was it his imagination, or did some of the cracks just get a little bit longer?

With the depth and spread of the fissures, metal packing would noticeably increase the weight of his arm. Draal would be fit to return to the field far sooner if he accepted a prosthetic, which could be graded to a compatible weight. He'd have use of two hands again more quickly, too.

Draal's blue hide had been nearly seared off in some places, exposing the veins of purplish crystal underneath. He couldn't stop himself from rubbing some of it. So smooth; a bit itchy at the edges.

Vendel had not simply left him alone. The Elder was looking through his supplies, giving Draal an illusion of privacy while keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn't aggravate his wounds.

"Vendel. If … If we try to save it. What are the odds it'll work?"

"Very low, I'm afraid. We can keep it attached, if that's your wish, but it would likely not be functional."

"Meaning?"

"In the worst case scenario, it would be like an immobile prosthesis with bits of your living stone embedded in it. In the best case, you would recover about half the mobility you had before."

Draal grimaced. He studied what was left of his arm again. Gorgus, some of the pits were so deep they nearly went halfway through.

"Cut it off."

+=+

"Then we all reached the Gyre, and Draal worsened his injuries to start the mechanism."

They were waiting outside the Gyre station. Blinky had just finished reciting the day's events to AAARRRGGHH.

"This is my doing. I knew Gatto held a place on the Tribunal, but never even thought to ask Vendel's assessment of his character. So now Jim is terrified of us all, Tobias is probably also mentally scarred, and Draal is grievously injured for my failure as a researcher."

AAARRRGGHH, always a troll of few words, had no words that could make Blinky feel less responsible for what had happened. He tried anyway.

"Attacking was Gatto's choice, not Blinky's."

"He didn't attack us, AAARRRGGHH! He made his terms clear, and I knew better than to accept but I did anyway, and now –" He flailed his arms. "I can only be thankful Jim didn't actually hurt you, and no one actually died."

"I'm sorry about that."

They both jumped, and turned to see Jim and Toby. Jim's helmet was sealed, and he was between them and Toby, but he was unarmed.

"I shouldn't have agreed to the riddle game either," said Jim. "That was a stupid gamble. I should've just stabbed him in the face the second he started talking about eating us."

"I feel like that's not the lesson we should take from this, but at the same time I can't argue," said Toby.

"I wanted to say, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let my fears get the better of me when I – I trust you. I know you would never."

"Forgiven," AAARRRGGHH assured him at once.

Blinky looked passed the boys, into the Gyre station. It stood empty.

"Where has Nomura gone?" And how had he not noticed her leaving? She would have had to go right past them.

"She wanted to see Draal before we left," said Jim.

+=+

"Hey," said Nomura.

"Hey." Draal lifted his new prosthetic hand in greeting. It made a faint clanking sound.

"… I came to show off all the stuff I took," she claimed, rather than admit she'd been concerned and wanted to check on him. Draal leaned forward.

"Show me."

+=+

Previous Chapter (Otto keeps unintentionally sabotaging his own coup.)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (As though Draal hasn’t been through enough, he turns human.)

This was the longest chapter yet! Helped along by how I had a few hundred words already prepped from the early days of fic writing, back when I thought they would be doing to search for the Triumbric Stones in canonical order and Blinky was still going to be the troll who turned human. How far we've come, eh?

There are two non-Tales of Arcadia cartoon references in this chapter, one to a show and one to a movie. Spot them for imaginary prizes! I'll reveal them in the notes for the next chapter.

I do not know what regular lava would do to a troll, but since Gatto digests that poor unfortunate troll in his introductory episode (seen sinking into the gut-lava when Toby and Blinky arrive in the stomach), I assume that particular type of lava can mess stone-flesh up. The term 'gut-lava' was used in one of the spinoff comics.

Out of curiosity, I looked up 'Ojos del Salado', which is a real place. Some fun facts: It is the highest active volcano in the world, and the second-highest mountain in both the Western Hemisphere and the Southern Hemisphere. It's actually on the Argentina-Chile border, and the mountain has two summits, one in each country. There is a crater lake on the eastern side that is believed to be the highest lake in the world.

Draal's mom Ballustra was named in the spinoff novels. I have not yet decided how much of the novels' depiction I will use, beyond the name and the job and the bit about her and Kanjigar being divorced. Or separated? The novel does not actually use the word 'divorced', but it does say they were married when Draal was born, and heavily implies they were not married anymore by the time Kanjigar died without providing a word for how the end of a marriage is described in troll society.

[august-grey]

i don't need your closure | chapter 10

read on ao3

masterpost

May 1985

“Honestly, Steve, stop being so dramatic. You can do so much worse than scooping ice cream for the summer.” Stepping out of the brand-new Starcourt Mall into the late-Spring sun, Alice slid her sunglasses onto her face. The day of job hunting had gone well, if she did say so herself. Claire’s certainly hadn’t been her first choice, but it was better than nothing. Plus, she thought, self-consciously, if you stood on your tiptoes in just the right spot by the earring racks in the front of the store, you could look directly into Scoops Ahoy on the lower floor of the mall. Alice chose not to dwell on why this fact was so relevant to her.

“Are you kidding me? This is bottom of the barrel stuff, Alice. You didn’t see the uniform they’re making me wear. Look at this!” Steve threw himself onto a bench and dug through the brown paper bag he’d been carrying before brandishing a white sailor’s cap in Alice’s face. She took it from him and swatted his hand away. Oh. Yeah, this was pretty bad. “Also, I’m pretty sure my coworker hates me already even though she barely knows me, so that’s gonna be fun.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Alice tried to console her obviously distraught friend. “This is just a stepping stone, Steve. We’ve gotta start somewhere.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve got that cushy job upstairs selling scrunchies to preteens. Meanwhile I’m going to be in the trenches, slinging ice cream to hoards of hot, hungry customers.” 

“Easy for you to say, you’ve got that cushy job upstairs selling scrunchies to preteens. Meanwhile I’m going to be in the trenches, slinging ice cream to hoards of hot, hungry customers.” 

“Think of the tips, though! People are going to be so grateful to you for providing respite from the heat, you’re going to be swimming in that sweet, sweet ice cream money.” Alice plopped down on the bench next to Steve, straightened out the cap in her hands, and placed it on his head. He immediately yanked it off and shoved it back into the bag out of sight, but not before Alice caught a flash of bright blue polyester. “Besides, it’s just for the summer, right? In a couple months we’ll be off to college and have to start the job hunt all over again.”

“Yeah, about that.” Steve’s voice lowered and she had to lean closer to hear him. “Turns out I’m going to be stuck in Hawkins a while longer. I didn’t get in, Al. No one wanted me.”

Alice’s stomach dropped. Oh god, she was an idiot. When her acceptance letters started coming in, she’d ignorantly assumed Steve’s were similar. He hadn’t mentioned anything to the contrary, at least. Regardless, she should have known something was off. Alice knew he’d been anxious when applying, but he’d worked so hard this year. Certainly the admissions offices could see how much improvement he’d made, why couldn’t that be taken into account? This was completely unfair. After what Steve had gone through…everything with the demodogs and the bullshit with Nancy and being bullied by Billy...Steve deserved so much better than feeling rejected yet again.

“Steve…”

“No, no. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter, really.” The catch in his voice gave away the fact that it did, in fact, matter to him. It pained Alice to see her normally overconfident friend like this; shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the concrete sidewalk. She laid a comforting hand on his back and felt him lean into her touch. “Don’t blame them, honestly. Just didn’t have the grades. Probably should’ve started caring before my last year of high school, huh? My parents are pissed, obviously. Which is why I’m going to be working a fucking dead end job instead of starting with my dad.”

“Screw what your parents think, Steve. This isn’t the end.” Absentmindedly patting Steve’s arm, Alice wracked her mind for a solution. “First of all, don’t think of Scoops as a dead end job; it’s a jumping off point. It’s experience to add to your resume. Secondly, have you looked at the community colleges around, or maybe a trade school? You don’t even need to go to school, really. We can look for apprenticeships or get you in at an entry level position somewhere. We should grab a paper and check the classifieds, do you have any change?”

It looked like Alice had a mission now; there was no way she was letting Steve feel this badly about himself without exhausting every resource. Spotting the newspaper vending box near the entrance of the mall, she sprang from the bench, digging through her purse for a few coins. Before she could rush off, she felt a hand snake around her wrist, refocusing her attention. Steve was looking up at her, amusement and something else she couldn’t place was sparkling in his eyes. Heart beating a bit faster, Alice let herself be pulled back down onto the bench.

“Jesus, Alice, calm down. You don’t need to solve my problems all at once. God, you don’t have to solve any of my problems, that’s not on you. Besides, it’s not so bad. At least I’ll be able to keep an eye on Dustin and the kids next year. Make sure they don’t get into much trouble without you here to wrangle them. Let’s just enjoy the summer for now, yeah? We can take a couple months to have some fun and work our minimum wage jobs and take advantage of not having to literally fight for our lives. We can just be teenagers for once.” Steve slid his hand from it’s gentle grip on Alice’s wrist, shifting to lace their fingers together. “Then we can figure out the future, okay?”

Shit. Alice seemed to have forgotten how to breath. This was just some friendly, casual hand-holding, right? All friends did this, didn’t they? Of course they don’t, you moron. She shook away the thought. This was really beginning to become a problem. 

She had tried. Truly, honestly tried. For months. But despite her best efforts, Alice had continued the long and deep decent into a full blown crush on Steve Harrington. Of course, she outright refused to admit it to even herself, let alone Steve. Alice genuinely didn’t know what she would do if the relationship they had built over the past several months was suddenly gone because she did something stupid like admitting her stupid unrequited feelings for him. There was no way she’d even consider jeopardizing their friendship over that.

So instead Alice chose to ignore the butterflies in her stomach that stirred up every time she had any sort of physical contact with Steve. Which, to both her pleasure and dismay, seemed to be happening much more often lately. The occasional hug or accidental brush of limbs had evolved into much more purposeful touches. Ones that lingered maybe a tad too long. Thighs pressed against each other during movies or while studying. An arm draped over her shoulders or guiding hand on the small of her back while walking. And now, apparently, holding hands for no reason other than to just…touch.

“Okay?” Snapping back to reality, Alice nodded enthusiastically, giving him a tight-lipped smile. Steve grinned and squeezed her hand; Alice had to take a breath to center herself. She really had to sort herself out. “Speaking of being normal teenagers, what are we doing after prom?”

“Prom?” Alice parroted, brain not quite caught up yet. “You literally told me last week that prom was boring and overrated.”

“Well, yeah, it is. But I was mostly trying to make you feel better about being too sick to go last year. It won’t be so awful this year, not with you.” Catching the skeptical look on her face, Steve’s tone became more serious. “Alice…we can’t not go to our senior prom.”

“I don’t know…it’s only a week away and I don’t even have a dress or anything.” Alice bit her lip; it wasn’t that she didn’t want to go. Between college prep, extracurriculars, finals, and job hunting, prom had been the farthest thing from her mind. By the time she realized how quickly it was approaching, she thought it felt too late to consider going. “You really don’t have a date, already? No one asked you?”

Steve looked a bit sheepish before brushing off the question, “I mean, someone might’ve asked. But I don’t want to spend the night with some rando when I know for a fact I’d have an infinitely better time with someone I actually like.”

The fact that Steve had turned down going with an actual date for her did not escape Alice’s attention. Trying not to let it go to her head, she extracted her hand from Steve’s and stood up. 

“If this is your way of asking me to prom, I pity your future fiancé.” Steve rolled his eyes at Alice, biting back a smile. “She won’t even know you’re proposing. Very roundabout, Harrington. You could’ve been like, ‘hey Alice, let’s just go prom together as friends ’ and I would’ve been like ‘sure, Steve, sounds great’ and this would’ve been settled a lot quicker.” 

“Yeah…as friends…” Steve grumbled under his breath. 

“What was that?” Alice asked, not quite catching what he had said.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. So…is that a yes or are you going to drag this out for the rest of the day?” 

It was Alice’s turn to roll her eyes. Obviously she’d go with him. There wasn’t any part of her that would say no to Steve at this point. She was long gone, even if she wasn’t ready to reconcile that with herself just yet.  

“C’mon. I wasn’t kidding when I said I had nothing to wear.” Steve scrambled up from the bench, following Alice back to the entrance of the mall. She slid her sunglasses to rest on the top of her head. “We’re shopping, Harrington.”

***

How the prom council managed to transform the high school gym into an Under the Sea  fantasy completely mystified Alice. She had to admit, it was pretty impressive. Metallic streamers covered the walls and hung from the ceiling, papier-mâché jellyfish and cutouts of tropical fish bobbed above their heads, and the whole gymnasium was cast in a pretty, blue-green light that truly made it seem as though they were in whimsical underwater world instead of small-town Indiana. 

Overall, prom really wasn’t as awful as Steve had made it out to be. The food left something to be desired, but Alice was actually having fun. When she wasn’t dancing wildly with her friends from band or drama club, Alice was being swept away to graze at the snacks laid out and gossip about their classmates with Steve. Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time she laughed so much. Steve was right, this was exactly what they needed after everything they’d been through. 

The ending notes of a Pat Benetar tune rang through the gym, making way for the beginnings of a much slower song. Alice extracted herself from the small group of girls she’d been dancing with, face-flushed and fixing the straps of her dress, as her classmates began to pair off. Just as well, she needed a breather; her feet were screaming from inside the heels she’d naively convinced herself to wear, and she desperately needed a drink. She had somehow lost Steve a few songs ago and she scanned the crowd for him as she made her way over to the punch bowl.

Suddenly Alice felt a hand slide into hers. Before she had time to react, her arm was lifted above her head and she was being twirled straight into Steve’s chest. The emerald taffeta of Alice’s dress swished around her calves as she tried to regain her bearings after the sudden, full-body contact with her best friend.

���Dance with me?” He grinned down at her, wrapping his free arm around her waist to place his hand on the small of her back. He was gorgeous, almost ethereal, cast in the artificial light. His classic black tuxedo turned to a rich, deep midnight blue and the tie they’d scoured three different stores to find the exact shade of her dress, more teal than green now. 

“We’ve been dancing all night, dummy.” She took a half step back, moving her free hand to rest on Steve’s shoulder. They really had been dancing, if you considered hopping around like maniacs and shouting lyrics at each other when their favorite songs played as dancing. But Alice wasn’t an idiot, she knew this was different. This felt different. 

She swore she felt something shift as she and Steve swayed together to the beat of the music. Steve pulled her closer so that their bodies were flush with one another, so close that she could feel his heart beat against her own chest. Adjusting to the lack of space, she twined her arms around his neck. His hands settled on either side of her hips, holding her tight. Alice’s entire body was on fire. 

“You really do look beautiful tonight, Alice.” Steve leaned down to whisper in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. 

“Well, you clean up pretty well yourself, Harrington.” Alice bit back her smile, playing it cool. He didn’t make it easy on her, however. 

Alice’s mind spun as Steve’s head tilted, angling his face toward hers. He paused, gaze flickering from her eyes to her lips, as if waiting for Alice to grant him permission. Oh god, this was happening. Suddenly extremely grateful for the few inches her heels added to her height, Alice would only have to lean in to close the small gap between their mouths. If she did this, if she kissed Steve Harrington, everything would change. Their friendship would never be the same. But God did Alice want it. She wanted it so badly she could scream. 

Fuck it. There was no way she could know what would happen after, but there was only one way to find out. Not giving herself another second to overthink, Alice rose to her tip toes and gently pressed her lips to Steve’s. 

Or, at least she would have if someone hadn’t violently shouldered Steve as they passed by the pair. The sudden impact nearly knocked Steve off his feet, but Alice, already unsteady in her shoes, slipped and lost her grip on Steve’s neck, sending her toppling to the unforgiving gymnasium floor. 

Landing hard on her elbow, Alice stifled her grunt of pain. Steve was upon her in a second, crouching down to help her sit up and scanning her for injury. 

“You good?” Alice nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. She made to smooth out her skirt and make sure everything was covered when a shadow fell over them.

“Ooh, nasty fall, Henderson. My bad.” A voice drawled from far above her. Alice looked up into the smug, smirking face of Billy Hargrove; tie hung loose around his neck, dress shirt unbuttoned to show off a generous amount of chest. His date draped over his arm at least had the decency to throw Alice a look of pity. The couples around them had stopped dancing, finding more entertainment in the storm brewing in front of them. 

“Fuck off, Hargrove.” Steve growled, wrapping a protective arm around Alice and hauling her to her feet. Alice steadied herself, cradling her sore elbow. That was surely going to bruise by the morning. 

“What? It was an accident.” Billy feigned remorse, turning toward Alice. “Right, Henderson? You forgive me, right?”

“Leave us alone, Billy.” She muttered, just wanting to be done with him. Alice was so sick of this man. He’d already done enough damage, how much more could he possibly do to her and her friends. 

“Aw, c’mon now. Don’t be like that.” He crooned, condescendingly. Alice pressed her lips together defiantly, not willing to give him any more satisfaction. “I’m hurt, Alice, truly. I thought you’d be a little more understanding when you consider our, uh, intimate history.”

That last dig had the tears Alice had been swallowing down finally fight their way to the surface. She was absolutely mortified. There wasn’t a day she didn’t regret her drunken tryst, if you can even call it that, with Billy. Unfortunately for Alice, not only did he know it, but he found some sickening pleasure in taunting her with the knowledge of how much it bothered her. He’d shown his true colors that awful night at the Byers. Threatening physical harm to literal children, nearly killing Steve. Her stomach turned every time she thought of the genuine terror in Max’s eyes when she heard the revving engine of Billy’s car. As far as Alice was concerned, Billy was a monster. One that was somehow proving to be much harder to get rid of than the actual monsters she’d seen. 

Alice could feel the judging stares of her classmates on her. A few hushed giggles and whispers rose above the music, and her face burned with shame. The music and commotion of the gymnasium soon gave way until she could only hear the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. What once felt magical, soon turned almost claustrophobic as the room closed in on her. She could only think of getting out of there.

Seemingly satiated by the few, humiliated tears leaking down Alice’s cheeks, Billy gave her one final arrogant grin and sauntered back into the crowd, pulling his date along with him. 

Fists balled at his sides, Steve furiously made his way after the boy, but Alice clutched his arm, pulling him back to her. The fire in his eyes melted as he caught her expression, his attention torn between Billy’s retreating back and the pathetic girl before him.

“Can we get some air?” She sniffled, hastily wiping her face just for new tears to replace the old. He just nodded, jaw clenched. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Gripping her hand tightly, Steve wove his way through the throngs of teens toward the exit, pulling Alice along with him. He didn’t let go until they had safely pushed through the double doors in the back of the gym. 

Alice hadn’t realized how overheated she was until she was met with the cool, late spring air. Head spinning, she frantically searched the area for a private place to have her breakdown. Small groups of people littered the courtyard and parking lot; couples making out in the shadows, a trio of boys passing a flask back and forth, a gaggle of girls comforting a crying friend. 

Steve hot on her heels, Alice settled on a well-hidden spot behind a low brick wall. Deeming it far enough away from prying eyes, she plopped herself on the concrete, buried her face in her hands, (knowing fully well that she was ruining the makeup she’d spent so long perfecting that evening), and let herself truly cry.

What was wrong with her? There was no way the Alice of a year ago would have let a glorified bully get under her skin like Billy had. She did what she could to avoid him, but it was a small school. As if the taunts and snide remarks he threw at her in the halls weren’t enough, just the sight of him brought her back to everything that happened that fall. Everything that Alice was doing her best to put behind her. But there Billy was; a constant reminder of the horror they all had faced. Graduation couldn’t come quick enough if it meant seeing the last of Billy Hargrove. 

She felt Steve settle in next to her, his body pressed against hers from shoulder to thigh. Alice was suddenly struck with the memory of that first night when everything had gone to shit, at the hospital after she, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan had fought the demogorgon. She’d almost broken down then, too. But Steve had been there, offering a light and anchoring her reality. Things had been so different then. She had barely known Steve (or any of them for that matter) as anything other than the douchebag constantly interrupting every class they had together with pointless questions. Now, Alice couldn’t imagine her life without him.

Back then they’d been so sure that the worst of it was over. That the monster was dead; gone for good. How were they to know that the worst was yet to come? 

Even now, after once again narrowly escaping death via horror-movie monsters, Alice wasn’t convinced that their otherworldly troubles had come to pass. Hawkins had been so quiet since Eleven closed the gate between their world and the Upside Down. But deep in her bones, she knew it wasn’t over. Alice was sure that the others felt it, even if they didn’t say so. There was a kind of tension, as if they were all just waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

But that wasn’t the current issue. For now, at least, Alice could focus on a problem much less deadly and more grounded in the present: fucking Billy Hargrove. Not only did Billy basically physically assault her tonight, he had interrupted the perfect moment between her and Steve. 

“I hate him.” She let out a shuddering breath, strategically wiping her face in an attempt to minimize the carnage of her eye-makeup. “Just one fucking night to forget everything and I let him ruin it. He shouldn’t be able to get to me like this. I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Stop that, c’mere.” Steve scooted over, angling himself toward Alice and gathering her in his arms, practically pulling her into his lap. Alice allowed herself this moment of weakness and melted into his side. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she took in deep, steadying breaths; Steve’s familiar scent of aftershave and salty sweat grounding her.“Hargrove’s an asshole, that’s all he’ll ever be. Don’t let him be what you remember from tonight. You had fun, right?”

She nodded, her cheek brushing against the slippery material of his tuxedo jacket. 

“Well then, there we go. We’re not going to waste our time on losers like him, okay?”

She nodded again.

“You feel any better?”

“I guess.” 

Steve sighed, his breath rustling her hair. Guilt ate at Alice. Billy may have ruined her night, but here she was ruining Steve’s. She couldn’t let that happen. Time to put on a brave face and endure the rest of the night. 

“You wanna skip Tammy’s afterparty and just go back to my place? We can forget about stupid prom and…I don’t know…raid my dad’s liquor cabinet, order a pizza, and watch movies all night.”

Alice shook her head, turning so she could properly face him. “No way. As tempting as that sounds, we’ve gotta go. What kind of friend would I be if I made you miss the last good party of high school?”

“We’ve got Sixteen Candles at home.”

“Seriously, Steve. I’m just overreacting. It’s fine, let’s just go and-”

“Splash?”

“-I’m not going to make you miss out on-“

“...Annie?” 

That made her give pause. An offering of Annie from Steve didn’t come lightly. Alice had made him watch her favorite movie about a half-dozen times since they started having regular movie nights. She’d been extremely hesitant to bring it up for the first time, knowing the musical wasn’t quite Steve’s speed, but she’d been having a particularly rough week and needed the comforting wholesomeness of Little Orphan Annie. And Alice was right; Steve hated it. But since then, any time Steve noticed her getting more stressed out or upset than usual, he’d put on a brave face and pop in the well-worn VHS without complaint. Alice liked to think he was coming around to it. 

“Are you sure?”

“There’s quite literally nothing I’d rather do, Al.”

[deangirl-interrupted]

You Wake up a Stranger to Yourself (then you learn to live with her)

For @spnwomenweek Day 2: Family Claire POV Claire/Kaia Wayward Sisters Fluff Background Destiel & Saileen Rated: T (just some swearing) Note:  Niamh is pronounced “Neeve”

______________________________________________

You're not a Winchester.

Until, one day, you are.

Claire watched the ceremony with a certain smug satisfaction, from her place beside Castiel as his "best man."

She knows that Castiel's used the name Novak when he's needed Jimmy's old I.D. (and face) to do useful things like rent cabins in which to raise the child of Lucifer. But it's never truly been his. It's a name he stole.

But when he and Dean got married, with the legal papers and everything (thanks to Charlie) Castiel was given the gift of the name Winchester.

That gift was sealed with a kiss.

Claire watched as Sam clapped Cas on the back and said, "You've always been one of us."

***

When Sam finally popped the question to Eileen, it had been three years since they'd defeated Chuck and saved the world again. Dean kept hassling him, telling him to man up and just do it. Sam kindly reminded him that he'd spent an infuriating twelve years pining for his husband, so kindly shut the fuck up about it.

Eileen had no intention of dropping her ancestral last name, and Sam had absolutely no problem with that. They decided to hyphenate to Leahy-Winchester, with both of them taking that name.

Claire was 25 when she found herself on a hunt with Eileen. They'd known each other for years, of course, but had never hunted together. Claire had been practicing her ASL since before Sam and Eileen got hitched, and Eileen was impressed with the ease and fluidity that Claire had mastered.

It was a simple salt and burn, nothing too strenuous, so they had some down time.

Leaning up against the side of Claire's car, Eileen suddenly said, "This is my last case."

Claire blinked at her a few times before saying and signing, "What, why?"

Eileen gave her a shit-eating grin and slowly rubbed a hand over her abdomen. "I'm brewing a new Leahy-Winchester."

Claire cackled. After hugging Eileen and wiping happy tears from her eyes, she said, "The monsters won't know what hit them."

***

Claire let Kaia drive them to go meet baby Niamh Leahy-Winchester.

Claire had been jumpy and nervous for some reason. She hadn't actually been back to Jody's in an age, and she hadn't seen the Winchester clan in even longer.

It's not that she didn't want to, she'd just been busy traveling with Kaia, looking at the world as an explorer and not just a hunter. Actually stopping to see some sights and stuff. And it's not like she hadn't been texting everyone! They had a group chat! It was a perfectly legit way to stay in touch!

She felt a bit guilty about it, anyway.

Kaia looked over at her and smiled, as if she could tell what Claire was thinking. Hell, maybe she could.

"It'll be fine," Kaia said as they pulled to a stop in front of a one story rancher with yellow siding, a white dogwood tree in the front yard, and a devil's trap painted underneath the welcome mat.

They held hands as they approached the house, and didn't bother knocking since the door was cracked anyway.

Everyone was gathered in a fairly small living room, huddled around Eileen and a tiny bundle in a yellow blanket with bees embroidered on it.

(Claire knew, without a doubt, that Cas had picked that out. He may have even knitted it himself, the weird ass.)

Claire knew that Kaia was still a bit uncomfortable around large groups like this, even though she knew and loved them just the same, so she let go of her girlfriend's hand and sauntered over to the group, throwing an arm around Dean's shoulders from behind.

"What's new up in here?" Claire said, throwing a wink at Eileen.

Claire soon found herself caught up in a group hug consisting of her surrogate mother and her two (kinda) gay dads.

"Geez," Claire said, trying to wiggle free, "You guys act like you haven't seen me in a year. I can't breathe."

Jody pulled away and said, "It has been nearly a year, Claire! And before you say anything, texting doesn't count!"

(Damn.)

Cas pulled away but left his hands on her shoulders, keeping her at arm's length and giving her a good once-over.

Seemingly satisfied by whatever he saw, he finally let her go.

"We've missed you, Claire," he said, so softly that it broke her heart a little.

Dean smiled and said, "Yeah, you leave for months at a time and you don't call, you don't write..."

Claire knew that she was letting Dean get her riled up, but that was just part of the comfortable little game they played. "I texted all of you! Like, literally everyone in this room! Some of you I even texted this morning!"

Alex and Patience laughed at her from their spot by a large bay window with sheer white curtains, and when she looked over at them, they both gave her a little wave.

Claire knew they wouldn't be coming to her defense.

It made her smile.

Donna walked over and pulled Claire to her, giving her just as big of a hug as the others. "Okie doke, let's leave the poor girl alone, and let her meet Niamh."

Claire was then unceremoniously dragged over to Eileen, who was watching with amusement. But it also got her closer to Sam, who stood up to give her a hug, and then leaned down to take the infant from Eileen's arms.

"Niamh," Sam said to the baby, with the most besotted look on his face, "This is your big sister, Claire."

And with that, Claire's brain made the sound of a record scratch. Claire.exe stopped working. Big sister? Is that really how Sam and Eileen saw her? As a daughter? Dean and Cas acted like that with her, and so did Jody and Donna, but those were more obvious. She and Sam had never been as close, though he was often the more reasonable Winchester brother. But this whole time, she was just everyone's adopted kid?

Claire was self-aware enough to know that she had softened a bit as she got older, but as Sam gently placed Niamh into her arms, and she looked around the room at everyone she loved, she felt her eyes go all misty.

This whole time, after losing both of her biological parents as an only child, it turned out that she had more parents and siblings than she knew what to do with.

Kaia appeared next to her, to look down at the baby in her arms.

"She's so small," Kaia said, whisper soft.

Claire looked at Kaia with a watery smile and then back down at the baby.

Gently rocking the infant, Claire quietly said, "Hi, Niamh. I'm Claire, and this is Kaia. You are so loved, and I know that someday you're gonna blow us all away."

Niamh gurgled happily.

***

"Are you sure about this?" Charlie asked Claire over the phone.

"Yeah, why, is it weird?"

"No, no!" Charlie said, quickly. "It's just that...I know I'm not from here, and I'll never be 'their Charlie,' but I've learned that this name comes with an awful lot of baggage."

"Nah," Claire said, easily. "To me, it's a name that sets me free."

Charlie laughed a bit and said, "As long as you're sure, I'll send the new documents to you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Charlie," Claire said with genuine relief in her voice. "This really means a lot to me."

After a "peace out, bitch!" Claire ended the call and let her phone drop to the sofa.

Kaia walked over and sat down next to her, taking one of Claire's hands in both of hers.

"When are you going to tell them?" she asked.

Claire grinned and squeezed Kaia's hands, "I'll probably wait for a while. I don't want to give them the satisfaction."

Kaia laughed.

***

When Claire and Kaia met with the landlord, to see what would hopefully become their first official apartment together, Claire shook the little old lady's hand and said with a dazzling smile, "Nice to meet you, I'm Claire Winchester."

[youngclaire]

One Last Final Goodbye

I rewrote sending Claire back through the stones at the end of book 2 but from Jamie's POV. I thought it would be a nice way to ease myself into writing these two. This is very book compliant, I actually bad the book open next to me whilst I wrote this in order to translate it from Claire's POV to Jamie's and it was a lot of fun. It's not a copy of the fuller chapter, it's been shortened down in places but the essence is there. I've also removed bits and pieces. Uhh yeah...all dialogue in this belongs to Diana and the book I'm just responsible for remixing the words. Anyway, I hope whoever bothers to read this likes it :)

(This is also my first fic in this fandom with these two so don't expect it to be perfect, it probably isn't)

- - -

He wouldn’t stop for anything; not food, water, or rest. He keeps the horse at a constant gallop at all times, scared that if he paused or hesitated for even a moment he would lose all courage and go neither back or forward.

I shall see my wife safe, is a mantra that keeps him riding. If he is to die tonight or on the battlefield tomorrow, he would not take her down with him; not her or the innocent being she carries inside her.

The stones come into view just above him. A cursed salvation of granite and Jamie tries not to see them, his gaze fixated forward. Behind him, Claire lets her displeasure be known, protesting against the idea. Jamie steels himself against them, clenches his jaw and gallops harder, fighting the urge to give in. This was the only way to see her safe and unharmed, he tells himself.

She protests still, even while he urges her up to the ruined cottage. She doesn’t realise he has no intention of parting with her right now, he just wants time to breathe, to think, to let the panic and worry abate. He sinks to the ground, his body cold and his mind racing.

“It’s alright,” he thinks he hear himself say. “We have a bit of time now; no one will find us here.” He shivers, though from the cold, and wraps his plaid around him.

God, he could still see it; Dougal’s lifeless eyes, the blood pooling out of him, the shock on Willie Coulter’s face. How long before everyone knew? How long before everyone found out he had committed familicide?

Jamie’s head falls forward onto his knees, a tiredness washing over him, fatigue clutching at his bones and eyelids. Tired as he was he could not sleep for fear of the images in his mind’s eye.

His breath comes out in ragged pants and he can barely stand the sound of it. He feels Claire’s warmth and presence beside him, uses it as something to anchor himself to.

What happened in that room and who knows wasn’t the priority, while Claire had yet to explicitly say so Jamie’s fate waited for him on Culloden Moor. Tomorrow he will die and all this will cease to matter. Claire will be safe.

His breathing eases back into its natural rhythm, the panic wilting away from the edges. He’ll take hold of Death’s hand, gladly accept his destiny knowing he did one thing right at last.

“I won’t go, Jamie,” she says, as if she’s read his thoughts. “I’m staying with you.”

Jamie shakes his head. She couldn’t persuade him, he couldn’t change his mind. He needed to do this.

“No,” he says. The firmness bites at him, makes him wince. He hopes she can hear the gentleness that lies beneath it. “I must go back, Claire.”

“You can’t,” she cries. “Jamie, they will have found Dougal by now! Willie Coulter will have told someone.”

Aye, that was a fact he had resigned himself to, a fact she must resign herself too as well. He grieved for Dougal, for the second father he had, but Jamie had done what he’d done- he would take whatever consequence waited for him behind that door. She talks of fleeing to France but it’s no use, he’s chosen his fate, set his heart and mind to it, accepted it. A traitor twice over, a rebel, a murderer…The English will hunt Prince Charles. The English and the clans will hunt Jamie. He was dead either way.

“Claire, I am a dead man.”

He watches the tears freeze on her cheeks. “No,” she says but the effect is lost, she knows he speaks the truth.

“I wouldna get very far anyway.” On its own accord, his hand runs through his red hair that makes him a beacon at all times. Not exactly inconspicuous. “I can save you, Claire,” With his other hand he brushes away the tears that continue to fall. “and I will. That is the most important thing.”

Then he will go back. If he finds he cannot do it for himself then he will find it in him to do so for his men.

“I think I can get them away,” he says thinking the plan through. “Even if it’s known what I’ve done, none will stop me wi’ the English in sight and the battle about to begin.” The plan visualises in his mind and he nods to himself. “I will bring them safely away and set them on the road toward Lallybroch.”

“And then?”

Well…wasn’t that obvious?

“And then I will turn back to Culloden.”

He lets out a breath, strong and final as his decision. He catches Claire’s worried look and gives her a smile.

“I’m no afraid to die, Sassenach,” he says, but then he thinks of that door, black and foreboding, the unknown behind it. “Well…not a lot, anyway.”

He hears a sound a human being should never be able to make as arms fling around him. He finds himself surrounded by Claire, caught in her tight embrace as the scent of her overwhelms him. He clutches her back, trying with all his might not to succumb and cry.

“It’s all right, Sassenach,” he says into her hair as she cries once more. “A musket ball. Maybe a blade. It will be over quickly.” A lie, they both know it, but Jamie will them both to believe it. He’s seen men die in battle, knows how horrifically slow it can be but it was better than waiting for the hangman’s noose, that would be the one thing that does not lie behind that door.

“I’m going with you.”

Lost in thought he barely registers it but when he does he reels at the notion, startling backwards.

“The hell you are!” He has a plan, damnit, and not even Claire will deter him from it.

She displays her argument but he will not listen to it, will not give it thought.

“No!” he says. “No, Claire!”

How could she suggest such a thing, knowing what they both knew? How could she be so selfish?

“If you’re not afraid, I’m not either. It will…be over quickly. You said so.”

You said so. What he said was a lie, did she not see that? A lie to comfort them both.

“Jamie- I won’t…I can’t…I bloody won’t live without you, that’s all!”

He had a thousand things to say and none at all. His mouth opens and closes before he shakes his head. Through the gaps in the ceiling he can see daylight dwindling, night approaching. The sky is painted red. Blood of a battlefield, blood of childbirth.

He reaches toward her, pulling her close. He knows where this fight comes from, if the tables were turned he would say the same thing, knows because he feels it too.

“D’ye think I don’t know?” His voice is soft, a whisper. “It’s me that has the easy part now. For if ye feel for me as I do for you- then I am asking you to tear your heart out and live without it.”

She lets out a whimper, clutching him closer. He fingers stroke her hair, whispering soft coos towards her.

“But you must do it,” he finally says, feeling his stomach twist and turn. “Ye must.”

“Why?” She is angry, considerably so. Confused and hurting. “When you took me from the witch trial at Cranesmuir- you said then you would have died with me, you would have gone to the stake with me had it come to that!”

He had said all that, and to this day, it remains true. He’d have rather died than to be parted with her.

“Aye, I would,” he says. “But I wasna carrying your child.”

The reason he is allowing them to part.

She is surprised, shocked, frozen in place as she looks up at him in bewilderment.

“You can’t tell,” she says at last, shaking her head. “It’s much too early.”

It makes him smile, brings amusement to him.

“You havena been a day late in your courses, in all the time since ye first book me to your bed. Ye havena bled now in forty-six days.”

She hurls insults at him, shocked he even managed to keep track of such a thing during a war but he had for hope they would have a second chance at raising a child and for fear that it would end like this.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she tells him, rattling off reasons for why she might not have bled. It’s no use, she forgets he’s seen her so before, studied all the tell-tale signs of her body changing, committed them to memory.

“Claire…” His voice is quiet, not sounding like him. “Tomorrow I will die. This child…is all that will be left of me- ever.” He reaches for her hands, needing some part of her to hold. He casts his gaze to their joined hands, running his thumb over her fingers. “Claire, I beg you, see it safe.”

He keeps his eyes downcast while he waits for her answer, scared she’ll say yes, scared she’ll say no. The silence feels long and he shuts his eyes against the twisting of his stomach.

Finally her answer comes.

“Yes.” A whisper in the darkening cottage. “Yes. I’ll go.”

He nods, swallowing back the lump in his throat, hearing the sound of a flower stem snap.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

After telling her to sleep, she doesn’t sleep himself. Time seemed wasted on that and they didn’t have much of it left anymore. In a few hours he will take her to the fairy hill and part with her forever.

He wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. To brandish his sword and yell and scream and cry but he knew there was no point to it. He knew that what he had been handed was more than fair, that not many men live the life he’s led and are allowed to be rewarded in such a way.

Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, he had said to her, quoting what he would say to God when he met him. God! I loved her well. He had, he could really say that. He took this woman, in all her unbated strangeness, into his broken hands and within her found company and peace, a place to call home.

She loved me well, too, he adds, watching her sleep for the last time. Content and safe, here in his arms and their fortress of cloth. He had healed him with her touch and love and perseverance. Picked a broken man off the floor and carried him through towards the light at the end of the tunnel no matter the setbacks. She really was a rare woman, his sassenach.

He wraps his arms tighter around her, murmurs a quick thank you in Gaelic to God and to the fairies for dropping her into his life.

Pressed against her, safe in their fortress of clothes, her skin warming his bones, his eyelids grow heavy and he succumbs to sleep as the first inklings of tomorrow break across the sky.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She was gone.

Disappeared in the same manner in which she had appeared. Gone through the stones and back to Frank.

Jamie presses his hand against the stone. The hard granite presses back on his wound, her mark, the letter C, reminding him it was real, she was real.

Her arisaid lies on the grass, forgotten in their haste to love each other one last time. Jamie picks it up, bringing it to his nose, inhaling her scent still lingering on the tartan. Tears fall on their own accord as he prays she made it back, prays that she and the bairn are safe.

A cannon in the distance booms, startling the birds and startling him. It’s beginning.

He is hesitant to move, to leave the place of their last coupling, his last connections to her.

Yet destiny waits for him on Culloden Moor, along with his men. He pictures the thirty men waiting for their laird.

There is nothing he can do for Claire now but there is something he can do for his men.

He kisses the inside of his fingers, presses it to the stone and bids his soulmate one last final goodbye.

[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 44

‘You know, love, the idea of your homework from Toshi is that you practice what she’s taught you...’ Loki hummed, as he found himself trying to get over to the sofa with Claire clinging to his leg while he tried to walk.

She tried multiple times a day lately to get him off his feet. Though her ways weren’t exactly smooth like Toshi’s technique. Claire’s technique was hide behind the door until he walked in, then she would launch for him and try grabbing his legs to pull him down.

Every time was a fail. Mainly because he knew she was there, he could smell wherever she was so the act of surprise was void.

After being dragged across the floor to the sofa, Claire reluctantly let go of his leg.

‘I guess my technique isn’t the best, huh?’ She sighed as she clambered up to her feet and brushed herself down before sitting down next to him.

‘No, it’s not, love.’ Loki chuckled and put his arm around her, kissing her temple. ‘I know Toshi didn’t teach you to take someone out by their legs at your last lesson, so why don’t you put all this effort into practicing what she did teach you, hmm?’ He smirked knowingly.

Claire and Louise had their second lesson with Toshi three days ago. Toshi had explicitly told Loki and Chris to stay away, to make it easier. She had Jessica come along though, and used Severus where needed. It went a bit better, but they still had a long way to go.

‘Ugh. She wants us to try and build up an exercise regime. For muscling up a bit.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’ Loki asked with a knowing smirk.

Claire just grumbled and snuggled down into Loki’s side. Loki laughed and poked her side playfully. ‘You didn’t think you’d be able to get strong just by learning some fighting moves, did you?’

Claire just shrugged in response, making him laugh again.

‘Oh, my love. I love you so much, but you can be so eager to get something done that you jump into it head first without thinking about the long road ahead.’

‘I know, I know. My parents always told me I wanted things done as in yesterday!’

‘You’ll get there, it’s just not something that will happen overnight. Though knowing some techniques to help get yourself out of potentially tricky situations is always a good thing, and can be used once you get the hang of it.’ Loki said softly.

‘I guess so. I just never realised how damn clumsy I really am.’ Claire laughed lightly.

‘You’re just finding your feet, don’t worry. My little bambi.’ Loki grinned.

Claire couldn’t even be mad, she just laughed and hugged him tightly.

They had just settled down to watch a movie, when Loki got a text through from Toshi.

T: I know of a bad guy that could do with being… wiped out. If you’re interested?

L: Don’t you normally tell Chris about those guys?

T: Normally. Though he’s busy tonight with Lou, out on a date night. He said you might be interested.

‘Well, you haven’t had a feed in a few days, have you?’ Claire asked him.

‘No… but I was going to get from the blood bank tomorrow.’ Loki shrugged.

‘Obviously it’s up to you, but it wouldn’t be a bad thing to go hunt this guy.’ Claire suggested.

Loki frowned as he stared at the table on front of him, lightly trailing his fingers in circles on Claire’s arm. She knew that he still didn’t really agree with hunting humans like that, even if he was doing something good by taking out someone bad.

Claire reached up and grabbed his face, turning him to look at her. ‘Be honest with me. Do you want to? Simple question, first thing that comes to your mind. Not should you, do you want to?’

Loki swallowed and nodded slowly.

‘Ok, so you want to do it. You will be getting rid of someone that’s obviously done something bad, or Toshi wouldn’t be telling you about it. I know that you still think hunting humans is morally wrong, but you are a vampire. When you took out that guy last month, you didn’t go on a rampage afterwards hurting innocents, did you? You were able to do what needed to be done, without going feral.’ Claire said calmly.

Loki sighed and nodded in agreement as he pressed his forehead to Claire’s. ‘I know, you are right, love…’

‘As usual.’ She grinned.

Loki chuckled. ‘Don’t push it.’ He growled playfully and grabbed her knee, making her squeak. ‘I just… I don’t want to become like him… Or, how he was…’Loki said quietly.

‘We all know that Chris is a bit more feral than the average vampire because of being an original. You’re not like how he used to be, nor will you ever be, he was out of control and crazy with his power before he met Lou. Though think about it, even when he was at peak asshole-ness, he still didn’t hurt those closest to him. Well, not physically anyway, I know he hurt you with words... The point is, I know you won’t let yourself go crazy and lose control. If you want to go and hunt this human, you should do it. Don’t think about whether it’s right or wrong, you’re a vampire. Normal rules and morals kind of go out the window, don’t you think? Plus, this way is a good outlet to let your instincts do what they need to do. Think of how many bad guys you and Chris could take out this way, making the world a better place. You saved that one girl last month, but think about how many others that guy might’ve hurt if he’d lived?’

Loki took in everything she said of course, and knew that she did make sense.

‘I guess… if I had let him go with just a punch to the face, he likely would’ve gone after that girl again or another.’ Loki hummed.

‘Exactly. I know morally, it’s not exactly right killing humans, but we’re not in a normal world. Vampires exist. You exist. To be fair, taking blood from the blood bank is weird, too.’ Claire laughed.

Loki smiled and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I do want to… I guess it wouldn’t do any harm. Though do you promise me, if you think I’m doing wrong or going too far, you’ll tell me?’ Loki asked as he picked up Claire’s hands.

‘Of course I will, you know I will, but I know you won’t. You’re so in control, you just need to believe in yourself more.’

Loki looked down at his phone and contemplated on it all for a few minutes before replying to Toshi.

L: Where can I find this guy?

-

Loki was in bat form, perching on a tree that was on the outline of one of the parks near the outskirts of the city, the man that Toshi had told him about was lurking at the edge of the pond in the middle. Toshi had been tracking him for a while for preying on children, she’d found lots of nasty videos in his house.

Loki noticed that the man was watching a woman with her toddler a little further along the pond, they were feeding ducks.

He didn’t want to attack in broad daylight on front of people, especially a kid, so Loki had to bide his time and keep an eye on the man.

While Loki was waiting in the tree, he noticed a fellow vampire bat fly by, further into the trees behind where Loki was. He didn’t recognise the bat, so knew it wasn’t any of the others. Though a few minutes later, he noticed another bat further down, head in the same direction, but that bat was too far away to know whether he could recognise them or not.

He soon forgot about the two bats, as he noticed the woman and the kid begin to leave the park. The man followed, but at a distance to not look suspicious to them. Loki followed too, and as soon as the woman and kid was out of the park, Loki launched for the man.

Loki turned into his vampire form as he grabbed the man. He buried his fangs into his neck straight away, to stop him from struggling or trying to shout for help, then he dragged him behind the shed that kept the local football team’s kit to finish him off.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t love the rush of feeding from a human that was unsuspecting, that he could drink dry without worrying about killing… Loki felt him get weaker and weaker as he drank from him. He wasn’t as tasty as Claire, no one was… but it was made up for being able to take all of his blood.

When Loki was finished, the man’s body was completely empty of blood and fell to the ground with a low thump. His blood was dripping from Loki’s chin as he took deep breaths to get himself to calm down.

Loki ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the wall for a moment.

‘Nice work… have fun?’ The voice startled him, but he relaxed quickly as it was Toshi.

‘Yes and no. I can’t believe I did this…’ He sighed.

‘Go home to Claire. You did good taking him down, I’m sure your inner instincts are pleased, too.’ Toshi said softly as she rolled the body over with her foot, making sure he was indeed dead.

‘I guess they are. I do feel satisfied… I just don’t like how much I enjoyed it.’

‘You’re allowed to enjoy what you are. As long as you don’t get carried away and hunt innocent people... but I know you won’t. Everyone knows you won’t.’ Toshi shrugged.

‘I’m going to make sure I don’t. This isn’t going to become a regular thing, anyway. Just occasionally.’ He said determinedly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘Sure, sure.’ Toshi nodded with a smirk.

[killianmesmalls]

Claire would have had such a problem with Jack at first. A case comes up and Sam, Dean, Jody, and Donna can't help out, so she hesitates as she calls Cas. A small part of her still hates him, hates what he did to her and her family, hates how much he looks like her dad and how much she just wants to see him again....

Rambling meta turns mostly fic under the cut.

Cas thinks the case is perfect for some practice runs with Jack when he's powered down but still so eager to hunt. She's heard of Jack in passing and is mildly aware of his place in that odd group of Old Spice-smelling, flannel-wearing, beer-drinking men and that angel that still brings comfort and grief all at once. It isn't until she lays eyes on him and hears the first stern but, somehow, still soft order from Cas to the nephilim that something rises in her.

There isn't quite jealousy, though she knows that's twisted in there too. A coldness develops and she regrets making that damn phone call. She could have handled this on her own. Hell, waiting for someone else would have been better than seeing this...being. She can't summon up the idea of calling him a man, since she at least knows Jack is a toddler in a teenage body, but calling him a boy or assigning anything other than just plain "him" feels wrong.

And, damn it, he looks just like...

She's gruff with Jack and rolls her eyes at Cas. Jack annoyingly remains polite and, as her rebukes become more and more volatile, his shyness increases but she loathes so much how kind he stays. Can he just not? Can he just not have manners, not be so understanding and so saccharine sweet? He even pulls out a candybar at a point, half for comfort she registers, and she wants to just take it and throw it at him.

To make matters worse, they're assigned together on the case at Cas's firm insistence. Claire had figured she could be the lead on this since she could still pass as a high school student, at least a senior, and a rise in suspicious deaths at a local Catholic school had seemed perfect for her special skills mixed with her appearance. Except, instead of taking the lead with one of the adults that didn't look so damn like her not-father, she's forced to work with him.

And he's terrible.

She'd been suspended more times than she could count back when she went to public school. Her detention record, she was sure, still had yet to be beaten. Still, she knew what she was doing. Keep your head down and lay low on a hunt. Drawing suspicion only made matters so much worse.

So why the hell did this idiot get three detentions in a day? She'd be entertained if she weren't so damn pissed off. Moron is on a case with a fake name and a fake history and thinks it's okay to correct his teachers on religious texts and history? Her tirade home was one for the books. On top of that, Cas lays into him about the same things which almost has her feeling bad for Jack if it weren't for Cas also lecturing in such a dad way.

Later that night, she hears him whispering to Cas. "She hates me." "She doesn't want our help." "She's just like—"

Only she doesn't hear who she's just like. Her feet carry her to the next room before she can register she's moving at all and all her emotions she felt, doesn't feel, doesn't even know how to feel come up all at once.

"Of course I don't want your help!" And she's angry, they can tell, but Cas senses something else. Something so very buried that's rising quick and dangerous, like the dead in those silly horror films Jack is so obsessed with.

Jack looks like he's concerned about whether he should apologize or grab something to protect himself. The air in the room is so tense, Cas isn't even sure an angel blade could cut, but Clare keeps going.

"It's not fair! It's not fair that you get to have someone who looks just like my dad, who took my dad, and you even look more like him than I ever did! It's not fair that you get to play a family while I—"

All at once she catches herself. Whether it was the tears on her face that cooled her cheeks and brought her back or something else, no one was sure. She pauses, takes a deep breath, and pushes herself back into the other room and out the door entirely.

How dare he? How dare he even look so much like him? So very much like him? That was supposed to belong to her. Those moments of affection to someone who looked like her dad? Those were supposed to be hers. And, damn it, even the affection from Cas who she had felt in her head in his stubborn soldier glory then saw later in his new-found "doof" ways? She wanted them to be hers. She didn't want them to be hers. God, she didn't even know what she wanted, and it was all their fault she couldn't make sense of it.

She had debated on storming off entirely and ditching the hunt. Hell, she had debated on going to a bar and drowning her sorrows in a whiskey line-up, but she sat on the stairs of their trashy motel and finished shedding the tears she didn't know she still had in her. Then, another deep breath, and she took out her phone to stare at her contacts list, thinking about venting to Jody or Donna. Maybe even Alex. Someone.

But, this wasn't on them. And, as Alex would tell her, she'd had her own experiences of being the unwelcome younger sibling in an all-too-complicated setup.

She makes sure once then once again that it definitely doesn't look like she had been crying. Then, with all the courage she'd summoned on her early hunts, she picks herself back up and wanders back into the room.

Cas is sitting at the small dining table and he looks every bit of his billions of years. Claire somewhat resents how much she feels the urge to apologize and hug him. Before she can even fathom the second wave of new emotions rising in her, she sees a folder in front of him.

"What's this?"

"Uh, Jack grabbed it. Apparently in one of his trips to the principal's office, he was able to obtain some insightful student records that may shed light on the case."

She turns to see Jack sitting on the bed, stiff as a board and, she now realizes with a pang, terrified. Guilty? Something.

Something he had no control over.

Something she caused.

Something they'd need to talk about. All of them.

Not now. Not tonight. She just nods and grabs the file before throwing a quick, "Good work."

His gaze jolts up and for the first time since seeing those eyes that match her dad's so damn much, she doesn't hate him looking back at her. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. How about, since you're suspended and I feel a sick day coming on for tomorrow, we'll go over it then?" She then turns her focus on Cas and adds a gentle, "All of us."

Though he still looks exhausted, Cas smiles and nods. "How about we discuss what's been found, order a pizza, and either talk or not talk?"

"Pizza sounds good. No talking for today, though. Tomorrow. Let's talk tomorrow. Promise."

[let-the-dream-begin]

Hogmanay Hauntings: A Christmas Carol Crossover

Chapter 1 -- Past: Creideamh

Read on AO3

“No.”

It was a grunt, a growl, a snarl, perhaps all three.

“For Christ’s sake, brother, ye didna even let me finish,” Jenny huffed, putting her hands on her hips.

“I didna need ye to,” he snapped. “I’m no’ going.”

“And why no’? If no one is in danger, can ye even think of another reason to no’ go?”

“Ye canna guarantee safety, and ye ken it.”

“Jamie, it’s been four years since Culloden. We havena had any visitors in a year! The villagers said the harassment has lightened considerably,” she reasoned. “The tenants miss their Laird, Jamie.”

“I’m not their Laird.”

Jenny flinched a bit at the coldness. “Aye, I ken. But they do still see ye as such. Ye’re their hero whether ye like it or not.” She paused, moving her hands from her hips and crossing her arms over her chest. “And the tenants arena the only people that feel that way.”

“What d’ye mean?” He was still staring at the dirt between his feet, still refusing to look at her.

“The lad,” she said, her voice softening. “Your lad.”

Your adopted boy.

She had called him that.

“He’s...no,” Jamie said hoarsely. “He isna mine.”

I have no children.

“Christ, Jamie,” her voice regained the bite it had lost. “Try telling that to him.”

“What d’ye mean by such?”

She sighed with exasperation. “Ye’re no’ the only one that lost her.”

He stood up abruptly, propelled by boiling rage exploding in his blood.

“I’ll no’ be intimidated by yer pathetic excuse fer a towering bear.” Jenny rolled her eyes. “Claire was — ”

“Don’t say her name.”

“ — the only mother the lad ever knew. And ye ken it well,” she went on as if uninterrupted. “There was no need fer him to be orphaned entirely. Yet here we are.”

Jamie growled with rage, shoving over one of his piles of books, sending them flying all about. He should not have been surprised that Jenny would turn asking about Hogmanay into throwing her into his face.

“Fine,” Jenny said calmly, unaffected by his tantrum. “Suit yourself.” She hiked up her skirts and made to leave, but paused at the entrance of the cave, turning around again. “Christ, Jamie...I ken ye have sorrow. And I only wanted to bring ye a bit of happiness. I ken how much the holiday meant to ye when we were bairns. And it’s the grandest party we can afford since the rising.”

Jamie was momentarily seized by guilt, remembering the sad holiday they’d had last year. After Caitlin. Jenny had been grief stricken nearly to the point of no return, and Ian had suggested they not have a party at all. But she’d picked herself back up and thrown together whatever they could afford at the last minute. For the children, perhaps; they’d already lost enough. But for herself, as well. It had always been important to her, too, Hogmanay. And Jamie knew it.

“I just...I miss my brother. This…” She gestured to his hunched, ragged form, the cramped quarters of his cave, “isna my brother.”

“This,” Jamie bit back bitterly, “exists to keep the rest of ye safe.”

“One night, Jamie. That’s all. But if ye canna bring yerself to quit yer wallowing...suit yourself.” She turned again, and then she was gone.

He stood still for a moment, allowing his sister’s enormous presence to truly leave the cave, his chest tight, his fists clenched.

No, he would not go. Not only was it a threat to their safety, no matter how Jenny insisted that she’d insured there would be protection, but his presence was a blight. He would not bring misery to those he loved by dampening their joy on a night meant for rebirth and celebration. 

He had nothing to celebrate, nothing to look forward to in the new year, or any year thereafter.

His future was gone. All that existed was his present, these dark walls, the quiet forest on days where he hunted. And pain. Such...pain.

His future...her future.

For the hundredth time in just that day, he thought of her. He thought of them. Four years...his bairn would be four years old. Running around with Jenny’s bairns, a child now, not an infant anymore. Claire would struggle to pick up the child, especially if it grew like a Fraser.

It. He’d never know what to call it.

The months he’d spent in the Bastille, not knowing the fate of his wife or child, trapped in his own mind as much as in his cell...he was living there again. Except this time, nobody would come to his rescue, nobody would enlighten him about his child, tell him it was a beautiful girl, what she looked like…

Ah, my sweet Faith.

And for the hundredth time in just that day, he thought of her, too.

Claire and the bairn were not dead, not really. But their loss had felt just as acute as that of his wee lost daughter.

I have no children.

A small scuttling sound jolted him from his reverie, and he sniffled, swiping at the tears on his cheeks.

“Uncle Jamie?”

Christ! How had the bairn…?

“Milord?”

Ah.

The smaller voice belonged to the head of strawberry blonde that bobbed into the cave, blue eyes wide.

“Are ye really no’ coming to Hogmanay, Uncle?” she said, her lips full and drawn into a sad frown.

Jamie was always sinfully grateful for the isolation of his cave. It physically pained him to look at the children. Especially wee Maggie. The red hues of her hair, always accentuated in firelight, were far too much like the copper hair he saw in his dreams, copper hair that only Claire had really seen. He couldn’t bear to look at her, at any of the lasses, and think that Faith would have played their wee games with them, and perhaps so would the new bairn, were she a lass. Were he a lad, he’d be traipsing around wee Jamie and Michael.

If he had his own bairn with him, if he had its mother with him...perhaps it would be different.

But that hair, those eyes, that sweet frown...it was too much.

“No. I’m not.”

His voice was far too short and harsh. She was only seven years old.

“But Kitty and I made ye a gift to give ye at midnight.” She twisted her apron in her hands, swaying a bit.

“Yer Ma will give it to me. Dinna come back here, it isna safe.” His eyes flicked up to Fergus, who’d been hanging back to allow this conversation to unfold. “Ye’re a fool to bring her here.”

“She will not remember,” Fergus said. “She was crying, Milord. I thought — ”

“Ye thought wrong. Quit my sight.”

The wee girl sniffled and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. He was wracked with guilt at the sound, at the sight. For a split second, he almost fell to his knees and pulled her into him, whispered into her hair, rocked her.

No, he’d fall apart if he did that, and he’d never be able to put himself back together. He’d never be able to let her go.

“Now, Fergus,” Jamie snarled. He couldn’t bear to listen to her anymore. He couldn’t bear to be confronted with the knowledge that he was incapable of bringing a child comfort. Because all of his children had been stolen from him.

“You are a heartless beast,” Fergus said with great disdain. “I do not want you at Hogmanay anyway.” He stepped forward and took Maggie’s hand. “Come, petit.”

And they were gone.

Aye, lad. I am a heartless beast.

His heart had been gone for four years. Never to return.

——

Jamie was in a deep, heavy sleep. Ian had come by with whisky, not to try and persuade him to come — quite the opposite in fact. He’d essentially encouraged Jamie to get piss drunk alone in the cave, and that was exactly what he’d done. His head had hit the pillow like a stone, and he’d passed out.

A gushing wind roared inside the cave, and it roused him immediately, like a bucket of icy water poured on his head. His eyes shot open just in time to see his singular candle knocked over by the gust, blowing the light out. He lay there in silence for a moment, waiting for the deafening wind to stop. When it did, he counted a few breaths, swallowing thickly.

He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a deeply ingrained sense of foreboding and dread.

He got up then to re-light the candle; though it was night, sleeping without the light of the moon had always been difficult, even after four years. A candle was a poor substitute, but it had to do.

As he fumbled around blindly, he was aware of something glowing behind him, as if someone had suddenly lit a fire. Yet the color was different, as if the fire were ignited by the moon itself. Brow furrowing, he turned around, and he staggered back at what he saw.

It was a child. A wee lass, barely even reaching the height of his waist. Barely bigger than wee Janet. But she was glowing, like her tiny slip of a nightgown was sewn from strands of moonlight. If Jamie didn’t know any better, he’d say that above her head was a flickering flame. Or maybe it was just her hair...fiery red. Like his.

And her eyes, how they glowed.

Like amber in front of a flame.

Like whisky.

“Hallo.”

She spoke, and her voice sounded like music underwater, like ringing bells in an echoing cave. Far away, yet right in his ear. He jumped at the sound, staggering back again, stumbling until he landed on his rear in his makeshift bed.

“W...what d’ye want…?” Jamie stammered, his eyes frozen and unblinking on the ethereal being. “Are ye...a spirit?”

“Aye,” she said calmly, a placid, gentle smile on her cherubic face. “I was sent to ye.”

“Sent...to me?”

“Aye.” She giggled, and it made his head spin. She was so...sweet. So lovely. Her hair was floating above and around her, never resting on her shoulders or back, like it was floating in water behind her. For the first time, he noticed the wreath of holly she wore atop her little head.

“By who?” Jamie’s eyes narrowed. He was a devout man; he’d not be tempted by one of Satan’s visions, sweet bairn or no. Yet, there was a lingering paganism in him, the part of him that believed his dreams of Claire were not makings of his own fevered imagination.

“By the Ghost of Hogmanay past,” she said proudly, as if reciting a poem taught to her in her lessons. She smiled, giggling again, and Jamie was overwhelmed by how small her glowing white teeth were.

“The...the what…?”

“She’s a little girl spirit like me,” the wee thing explained. “She gave me this crown of holly berries so I could do her job fer tonight.”

Jamie blinked dumbly, not at all understanding.

“It’s a very rare thing fer the spirits to appear,” she said, again like reciting lessons. “And even rarer that the honor be given to someone else. Like me.”

Jamie swallowed against a painfully dry throat, wracking his brain for what to say. “Why...why’ve they given ye the honor this time?”

She giggled again, and he swore he could feel it fluttering his heart. “Because the mortal they needed to reach was my Da.”

Something pricked him on the skull between his eyes, and he blinked rapidly.

“Da…?” His voice was nearly inaudible.

She nodded, her fiery tendrils bobbing midair, that flame that may or may not be atop her head flickering. She smiled sweetly, beatifically. “It’s me, Da.”

He thought he might faint. Copper hair, her mother’s eyes —

“It’s Faith.”

He lost vision completely for several seconds, but still glowed behind his eyelids, burned into his mind.

Faith.

His eyes opened again, burning and watery. The tears slipped out, unabashed, and a sob tore through him.

“Faith…?” he stammered, making to stand, but falling to his knees on the stone. “My...my Faith…?”

She was still smiling, twirling back and forth like any mortal wee lass, oblivious as to the effect she had on her father.

“Oh, mo chridhe…” he wept, inching forward toward her on the floor. “Christ, ye’re beautiful...I never even dared dream of ye...and here ye are...so bonny…”

She was now in arm’s reach, and he made a desperate grab for her, meaning to gather her in his strong arms and cradle her to his chest, rock her there for hours, never let her go.

But his hands met nothing but thin air, white-hot air, and he fell forward, his palms slapping the stones.

“I’m sorry, Da.”

She said it like she’d been caught eating too many bannocks or tormenting the chickens.

He heaved with shuddering breath, unable to look up at her again just yet after having his heart broken like that. He watched as his tears dotted the stone beneath her glowing feet.

“Mortals canna touch spirits.”

He bit back another sob, swallowing hard. Spirit or no, his daughter deserved better than to see her father completely unravel like this.

“It’s…” He sniffled. “It’s alright, lass.” He picked his head up, daring to look at her again. “It’s enough to...to see ye. To hear yer sweet wee voice.” He sniffled again, breaking out into a smile against his will. “I’ve...I’ve always loved ye, though I never saw ye. D’ye ken that?”

“Aye.” She nodded sweetly. “I ken. And I always loved ye, too.”

He was wracked by another sob, overwhelmed.

“Yer...yer mother…” he stammered. “Have ye…”

“No,” she said lightly. “Ma doesna need me.”

His brow furrowed. It was incomprehensible. How could Claire not need this? How could some powers-that-be decide that a mother need not see her child?

 “Doesna need ye…?”

“I ken she misses me. But that’s no’ the same as needing me. That’s what the Ghost of Hogmanay Past said.”

“And why is it that I...need ye? And what’s all this about a Ghost of Hogmanay…?”

“It’s my job to show ye things ye need to see,” she said, that sweet, youthful pride pouring out of her again. “Hogmanay’s past.”

“I...I dinna understand…”

“It’s alright, Da. I’ll just show ye.”

She stooped down, reaching for his hand, and Jamie’s heart leapt into his throat. Perhaps he couldn’t touch her, but she could touch him. The thought almost had him weeping again.

But then there was fiery heat in his left hand, and his guts were in his mouth as the world dissolved around him. He cried out in fright, but there was no sound to be heard above the roaring wind.

As suddenly as it had begun, it stopped, and Faith was no longer holding his hand. He didn’t even see her at first, and the panic that that created was enough to make him completely unaware of his surroundings.

“Faith, mo chridhe? Where are ye? Come back, please…”

He whirled around and was met with a rowdy pair of children running headlong for him, and it was far too late to move out of their way. Much to Jamie’s horror, they ran right through him, as his hands had gone right through Faith.

Christ! Am I dead?

A small giggle.

He whirled around, and there she was, floating, flaming hair, glowing white skin and all.

“Ye’re no’ dead,” she said, shaking her head at his foolishness. “Ye’re...a visitor. But ye’re no’ really here. Everything here has already happened. Ye ken?”

His brow furrowed, and he finally took in his surroundings. He was...home?

But he wasn’t just inside the main house. No...something was different.

The parlor was decked out as Jenny always had it for Hogmanay when they could afford it, but it was far more extravagant than as far back as Jamie could remember. The greenery and the holly and the wreaths and the candles were simply beautiful. It was like stepping into a magical woodland castle, the air drugged with joy and high spirits.

And then he saw them.

“Da? Mam…?” His voice was no more than a choked whisper, and he found his feet bringing him closer to them before he even willed it.

They were whirling around the dance floor, and Jamie sidestepped other couples in vain. It didn’t matter anyway; they danced and twirled right through him. His mother was radiant. He’d forgotten, forgotten how beautiful she’d been, how full of life. And his father...he looked at his mother like he was holding the entire world in his arms. Jamie had forgotten what it was like to look at two people so in love, knowing that he had come from that love, however abstractly he’d known it at that age.

They were both laughing, red in the face from exertion. Jamie could not even keep up with them in following them around the room. He felt inexplicable giddiness bubbling in his chest. He used to watch them whirl around the floor all night, lost in the music of the fiddler accompanied by the laughter of love. Mam used to blow kisses at him and wink, sometimes Da would throw him up on his shoulders, or Jenny, or even both at once, tossing them both over each shoulder like sacks of grain.

“Willie! Lemme! Lemme!”

A piercing, chillingly familiar voice stood out among the throng. Jamie whirled around and completely froze.

That’s me.

Little Jamie was standing there, the tips of his ears red, his face twisted in a ridiculous scowl. He was watching two other children dancing clumsily, a little girl twirling around the finger of her partner.

“Willie…” Jamie breathed reverently, coming closer to the cloister of three children, unblinking, hardly daring to breathe.

“I want tae dance!” Little Jamie protested, stamping his foot. “Lemme!”

“Haud yer whisht!” Little Jenny scolded. “If ye dinna quit yer scowling, I’ll tell Mother to hide yer presents!”

“Jenny,” Willie interrupted. “He’s just a wee lad. Let him dance wi’ us.”

“He’s clumsy!” she protested, little nose wrinkling beneath mirthful, cunning blue eyes.

“He’ll never learn if he doesna get to try.”

Jamie crouched down nearby, watching and listening in awe. There Willie was, protesting about his brother being a wee lad, when he himself was only ten years old. He was wee as anything to Jamie.

And he’d be dead in a year.

“This must’ve been our last Hogmanay all together,” Jamie whispered before he realized he was saying it aloud. He didn’t need to look to know that Faith was standing beside him; he could feel the heat of her fiery presence, could see her glowing from the corner of his eye.

The little Jamie he was looking at was no older than five, Jenny was about seven. Willie would be eleven and dead soon, and his mother would follow in three more years. This was the last time everything had been truly magical during Hogmanay.

“This was...the last time,” Jamie said, unable to elaborate so that his tiny daughter would understand.

Willie finally convinced Jenny to allow Little Jamie to hold one of each of their hands, and they twirled and skipped in a circle. Little Jamie’s scowl seemed to transfer to his sister’s face, apparently unhappy that her nagging wee brother had gotten his way, but before long, all three children were laughing and squealing, tripping over each other in glee.

“The last time what, Da?” Jamie could not tell if his daughter was genuinely asking, or if she was wiser than she seemed and was trying to get him to reveal the contents of his weary soul.

“The last time we were...together. Happy.” Tears stung his eyes. “Willie was my very best friend, ye ken? I was so young when I lost him that I...I dinna even remember what it was like. But look at me....I’m looking at him like he hung the stars.”

And he was, Little Jamie. He adored his big brother. So did Jenny.

The fiddler ceased that particular tune, and everyone paused to applaud wildly, whooping and cheering. Da made his way over to his trio of wee Frasers. Jenny began hounding him to allow her to dance with him instead of Ma, Jamie began demanding to be sat on his shoulders. To compensate, he reached down with a great playful growl, scooping them up and tossing them over his shoulders as the fiddler started in again. Little Jamie and Jenny squealed their wee heads off as Da fully performed a jig with two bairns on his back, and Ma laughed her head off, taking Willie’s hands and swinging their arms between them.

Before long, the rest of the room took notice of Brian’s absurdity and was cheering him on, and then both of his wee children were sitting atop his shoulders, clinging to each other over his head as he danced. The jig finished and the room erupted again. Eyes leaking with tears of laughter, Ellen took Little Jamie into her arms, kissing his temple and rustling his wild hair as Jenny settled on Brian’s hip. His parents kissed, sweet and chaste and beautiful, and Jamie’s heart felt full and empty all at once.

“This truly was the last joyful holiday we had,” Jamie said with a sense of finality. He could live in this memory forever, forget the suffering that was to come, the fate of his poor brother and mother, the fate of himself all those years later. He wanted to fold himself into that loving embrace of that family of five, to meld himself with his five year old soul and live this night forever and ever.

“It wasna the last one, Da,” Faith said gently.

Before he knew what was happening, he felt a tiny, delicate hand grasping his again, and before he could speak the panicked protest on his lips into existence, his family was melting away in a whir of color, and the deafening wind was back. Jamie’s frightened cry made no sound, lost to the howling wind.

Colors began leaking back in around them, dimly lit and getting brighter by the second. It was like watching a painting being created right before his eyes, all around him. Then the parlor was back, the Hogmanay decorations all in their place, but just the slightest bit different. Jamie frantically whipped his head around, completely disoriented. His eyes took in a crowd gathered around a dancing couple, and he weaved in and out of them, apparently forgetting that he could just walk right through them if he wished. His heart soared, ready to find his mother and father again, but his breath was taken away at what he saw instead.

Jenny was grown now, hair long and flowing and tied back with a bow, her face bright and beaming, hands clasped with…

Ian.

He was laughing just as heartily, twirling and skipping and dancing right in step with Jenny.

Both of his legs.

Jenny was a young woman, clearly in love with the man that would be her husband, so this must have been…

“The last holiday before...” Jamie breathed reverently. “Before…everything.”

Before Fort William, before Da, before Ian’s leg was taken.

Before Claire.

“Mhmm.” Faith nodded in confirmation, swaying ethereally to the music. “Auntie is very bonny, aye?”

It took Jamie a moment to register her words, entranced as he was by the sight of his sister’s joy. So much had been lost, her brother, her mother. She’d become the woman of the house before she could even see over a washtub. Far too young. Yet, here she was, glowing, radiant.

She’s already stronger than I’ll ever be.

He smiled then, nodding. “Aye, lass. She’s bonny.”

He’d been so blind! How on earth hadn’t he seen the way his sister looked at his best friend? Where was he now that he hadn’t seen this, hadn’t heard the crowd whispering about what a bonny match they’d make someday?

A whooping roar sounded behind him, and Jamie whirled around, following the sound into the dining room, where he laughed out loud at what he saw.

Murtagh and his father were tossing back mugs of whisky and so was…

Himself.

It was not the same as looking at himself as a bairn; it was much stranger. It was so clearly him, yet it wasn’t at all. He was so young, this Jamie. So foolish; present Jamie could tell. He had that stupid glint in his eye, like he was seconds away from doing something foolish at any given time. The crowd roared again as the three men — or, rather, two men and the lad — slammed their mugs down. A drinking game of sorts.

“Aye, I remember,” Jamie breathed, laughing. “Da is about to drink me under the table!”

He’d passed out that night, so hell-bent on drinking more than his father and godfather that he hadn’t taken into account exactly how much he’d been consuming.

“I was sick as a bloody dog the next day,” Jamie went on, still laughing to Faith. “Da wouldna let it go fer weeks. Jenny didna even seem to notice, didna nag me as she would ha’ to see me in such a state. Her mind was elsewhere, I reckon.”

Jamie threw a look over his shoulder into the parlor, finding Jenny still bounding about the room with Ian, joined now by other couples. Jamie looked back again, watched as his father slapped younger Jamie’s back ruthlessly, causing him to sway, and causing the crowd to laugh raucously.

Then there was Da, beaming bright as young-and-in-love Jenny was.

Jamie had seen with his own two eyes how much losing his mother had crumbled his father. They were the loves of each other’s lives, there was no getting around it. Brian lost a piece of his heart when Ellen died, after having already buried a piece of it with Willie. Jamie knew the pain of losing a child, and he knew the pain of losing his wife.

And yet there he was, his father.

None could deny that there was always a quiet sadness about him after Willie, after Ma. But then he tossed his head back, howling with laughter as his son stumbled again, and Jamie’s heart twisted.

He carried on.

He looked back at Jenny again upon hearing her laugh, a shrill, shrieking sound that he’d always hated as a lad, but that now brought him such aching joy.

Certainly growing up too quickly had hardened her; it was unavoidable. And the horrors to come, Randall harming her, the rising and its aftermath, losing her own child...they’d all make her harder still. Jamie could see it in their present.

But she carried on.

Jamie did a visual sweep of the dining room, practically overflowing with food and decoration, every painstaking detail in place to give joy. He was certain that Jenny had done her best to recreate such a thing in her present day, for her children, for Fergus.

For him.

The way his Da had carried on and continued to make each holiday special after losing pieces of his heart had instilled itself into his daughter as well.

And it had missed Jamie himself.

Jamie was overwhelmed with crushing shame, tears stinging his eyes. His eyes bore into his father, so full of life, into himself so full of life. So young.

“Da...I…” he rasped, swallowing thickly. “I’ve failed ye. I have. I’ve failed Jenny, and Ma. I ken ye’d be disappointed in the man I’ve let myself become.”

How far had he fallen that such strength had eluded him? What was so bloody pathetic about him that he could not carry on as his father had set the example for his entire life?

“D’ye see, Da?” A little voice jolted him out of his reverie of self pity, and he finally tore his eyes away from the pillar of a man that he still loved fiercely, still missed with a painful ache. 

Jamie’s brow furrowed. “Aye, lass...I see. I see that I’m a...a bloody coward. A puir excuse fer a son.”

“Oh, Da,” Faith’s wee voice was tinged with sympathy, as if she were coddling one of her dollies.

Jamie sniffled, then turned to look down at his beautiful wee daughter. “The spirits sent ye to humble me, then?” he said, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice for her sake. “To remind me how far I’ve fallen from this time of great joy?”

“Aye...I think so.”

Had he not felt sick to his stomach, Jamie might have laughed at her sweet innocence.

“But,” she went on, “all is not lost.”

She grasped his hand again, and Jamie threw a desperate glance back at his father, tossing his head back in laughter again; the last time he’d ever see him until the Eternal Kingdom.

The lights, the music, the laughter, and the joy all faded away like melting wax until the cave molded back into existence around them. His candle was still turned over, the only light in the room Faith’s glowing essence. Jamie’s head was spinning, so much so that he nearly forgot what Faith had just said:

All is not lost.

“What...what did ye mean, mo chridhe…? What isna lost?”

She giggled. “All!”

He laughed despite himself, his heart straining in his chest. He knelt down in front of his daughter, his hands physically aching with the need to reach out and touch her, and his heart splitting upon remembering that he couldn’t.

 “Cheeky wee thing,” he said softly, his eyes glistening.

“It’ll be alright, Da,” Faith said sweetly. “The other spirits will help ye understand.”

“Others?”

“Aye, I only showed ye the past. The spirits said ye must see the present and future as well.”

“But what...what good’ll it do…?”

She smiled, reaching out to ghost a white hot finger over his nose. “It’ll do all the good in the world, Da. I promise.”

Jamie leaned into her touch, but was met with nothing but air.

“Can ye promise me ye’ll keep yer heart open?” Faith asked, and the room suddenly seemed to get darker.

Her light is fading.

“Faith? Faith, mo chridhe, what’s happening?”

“Promise, Da. Promise that what I showed ye has opened yer heart fer the next spirits.”

She’s leaving.

“Please, lass, dinna leave me…”

“Promise,” she begged, fading dimmer and dimmer.

“Aye,” Jamie choked, a sob wracking through his body. “Aye, my sweet babe...I promise.”

Faith sighed with relief, smiling brightly. “Thank ye, Da.”

“Wait…!”

“I love you, Da.”

And she was gone.

Jamie fell forward onto his hands and knees, sobbing gutturally, every inch of his body alight with the horrible pain of losing her again.

“I...I love you too, Faith.”

The room was entirely black, black as his heart felt now that she was gone. He didn’t bother to light the candle, didn’t even move from his hands and knees as he wept for his lost brother, parents, his poor daughter, and the mother that would never be given such a gift as he had to see her and hear her voice.

Then there was light again; he could see it behind his burning eyelids. He looked behind him. The candle was still turned over, unlit. He turned back around, sitting on his haunches and beholding the next glowing spirit to grace his presence.

He almost fainted.

“...Sassenach?”

[shirtlesssammy]

2x07: The Usual Suspects

Then:

Sam and Dean Winchester, professional grifters

Now:

Baltimore, Maryland

The cops have finally caught up with Sam and Dean Winchester. The SWAT team surrounds their motel room and takes them into custody. One cops sums up all of Dean’s killer ways at his interrogation. Dean is unaffected.  (Because he’s not a killer.) 

Sam, meanwhile, gets the good cop for his interrogation.

She reads off Sam’s life story to him and he lays on the Winchester snark in return. They’re trying to break this straight A student to get more information on his derelict older brother.

Sam starts talking.

Flashback to why Sam and Dean were in Baltimore when they got caught. John and a man who recently died,Tony Giles, were old friends. They were hunting an invisible killer. (And for the record, it’s clear that Cas is Scully. Sam is Skinner, third-wheeling the far more compelling duo the whole way.) 

Sam tells the cop that they weren’t even in town when Tony died.

They went to visit Tony’s widow, Karen (and secret publisher of Sam and Dean’s life story!). Dean asks if Tony talked about anything strange in his life before he died. She mentions he had a nightmare about a woman with red eyes.

Sam and Dean then were spotted breaking into Tony’s office. They’re thinking a vengeful spirit. Dean finds a bunch of papers with the words “danashulps”

Sam then finds the name finger-smudged on Tony’s glass desk. They look but can’t find that name anywhere.

Dean goes to ask Karen if she knows anything about this name. Sam tells the cop that he went to make sure she was doing okay. Sam stayed to crack Tony’s computer password but tells the cop that he went back to the hotel.

Twist! Apparently, Karen is dead too! The cop tells Sam that the brothers separated because Dean was heading to murder Karen. The 911 call indicated that someone was in the house with Karen.

We get a flashback of Karen seeing a woman in the window of her house. She runs upstairs and calls 911.

Her phone disconnects, her lights flicker and then her printer starts printing “danashulps’. She heads to her closet to pull out a flashlight, and turns around to find the woman!

Dean knocks on her door some time later. When she doesn’t respond, he lets himself in. The lights aren’t working. He finds her dead on her bedroom floor. He notices bruising on her wrists. And that’s when the cops find him.

The coppers reunite to confirm that the brothers’ stories match. Good Cop tells Bad Cop that they have to get Sam to flip on his brother or they don’t really have a case —no murder weapon, no motive.Bad Cop insists that this case is in the bag. They’ve got Dean’s prior in St. Louis after all. Good Cop —now known as Diana—informs the audience that Bad Cop was good friends with Giles. Also, Diana and Bad Cop are in a secret office romance.

While Dean waits out his interrogation, he stews over the name “danashulps”.

He guesses that it’s not a name. Sam, who has access to a pen and paper, starts the anagram game. Dean plays the game in his head AND HE’S MY SMART BOY FOR IT. Dean’s public defender, Jeff Krause shows up then. Dean doesn’t seem to care that someone within the legal world has come to help him —he just needs a pen and paper. He breaks down the word and asks Jeff if he recognizes anything. Jeff worries that Dean isn’t taking this seriously.

Jeff points out that Ashland is a street name in the area. Dean asks if he can see Sam.

Diana is typing up the police report when suddenly her computer starts writing “danashulps” over and over again. It only happens for a few seconds, the screen filling with seemingly nonsense characters, and then it reverts back to normal again. 

Jeff visits with Sam and hands him over the paper from Dean pointing out that Ashland is a street. Before he can get into Sam’s defense case, he’s called back to Dean’s holding room. Dean’s decided to confess!

In one quick line, Dean yoinks the rug out from under the cops. “I did not kill anyone,” he states at the start of his purported confession, but he knows who did it. “Our working theory is that we’re looking for some kind of a vengeful spirit.” This goes over just as well as you might imagine with most of the cops. But Diana sees the DANASHULPS scrawled on his sheet of paper and has an OH NO moment. When they accuse him of the murders in Saint Louis, he casually tells them it was a shapeshifter.

With Dean Winchester written off as a lost cause, they head in to question Sam. To their surprise, he’s escaped! Diana finds Dean’s letter about Ashland and I SHAKE MY HEAD AT YOUNG SAM WINCHESTER for leaving a clue for the cops.

In the ladies room, Diana discovers the overhead lights are out. All the taps turn on, steaming hot to fog up the mirrors so Ghosty can write her catch phrase on the glass. The ghost also spectral projects herself to Diana, mouth moving like she’s trying to say something. Shaken, Diana heads back to talk to Dean “Crazy Occult Guy” Winchester. 

Dean tells her that vengeful spirits originate from violent deaths. My Smartest Buttercup notices that Diana has fresh bruises encircling her wrists. She doesn’t remember getting them. Dean warns her that death is stalking her now, and tells her to seek Sam’s help for protection against the spirit. 

At Sam’s motel, she gives him the lowdown and shows him the bruises on her wrists. Sam gives her a stack of victim photos to see if any of them match the ghost. Diana identifies Claire Becker as the ghost. She was a heroin dealer in life, and might be targeting Diana for her narcotics work. Sam and Diana team up to salt and burn Claire’s body at an abandoned store on Ashland. Claire makes an appearance during the search, but only seems to want to reveal herself to Diana. They find the mystery word - it’s Ashland - and a half erased word fragment. Sam busts out the wall the clues have pointed them towards. They haul out Claire’s body. Around her neck, there’s a necklace. Diana knows it well...because she’s wearing an identical necklace!!! Her office romance Pete gave it to her. DUN dun dun. Sam concludes that Claire isn’t killing anybody. Instead, her spirit is functioning as a death omen. 

The killer...is PETE. Diana’s a quick thinker, and remembers that heroin went missing from evidence a year ago. Pete would have used Claire to fence the drugs, and later killed her. 

Cut to Pete driving Dean Winchester to parts unknown at two in the morning. Dean’s a quick thinker too, and realizes he’s about to be murdered by a crooked cop. Dean gets hauled from the van. Welp. Looks like he shall meet his end in a sloppy cop drama! 

Diana confronts Pete, who tries to blame Claire’s death on...Claire for trying to turn Pete in. He spills everything. The other guy who died was in on the scheme, and Pete killed his wife for good measure. Pete insists that killing Dean - “one more dead scumbag” - is the best approach. I hiss, and fist bump Dean when he tries to defend himself against the “scumbag” accusation. Diana shoots Pete somewhere nonlethal, but Pete still manages to get the upper hand. Claire appears to him then and smirking, draws Pete’s full attention. Diana shoots him clean through the chest. 

Afterwards, Diana asks about Claire. “She should be at rest,” Sam assures her. I...side-eye this young man and then let it go because it IS the television show, Supernatural, after all.

Diana tells them the cover story: Pete confessed to her before his death, and the suspects escaped. Dean and Sam head out to rescue Baby, and we get a wink at Diana’s (Linda Blair) Exorcist acting legacy in case you missed it.

What an Excellent Quote for an Exorcism:

You want me to turn against my own brother?

I'm not Scully, you're Scully

My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women

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