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wiypt-writes · 4 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 2. The Contest.

Summary: Life at SHIELD isn’t always missions and seriousness, as a good natured shooting contest between Katie and Clint shows. The questions is, as the two dead-shots face off, who will be the winner? Steve has utter faith in his best friend, so much so he’s willing to bet money on her. But is this just another ten bucks he’s gonna lose?

Either way, both are left contemplating their feelings towards one another and fast come to the realisation that they run deeper than they want to admit

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language!!

A/N: A huge thank you to @angrybirdcr for her lovely little edit below of Katie and Clint. She’s kingly agreed to pull a few edits together for me in honour of my relaunch so keep your eyes peeled…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

Katie had no idea why she’d agreed to any of this. Actually, that was a lie, she knew exactly why she’d agreed to this, it was all down to Evans who had decided that STRIKE were long overdue a competition of sorts and had organised a shooting-slash-obstacle course tournament. Eight members had entered, going into random draws and competing against one another over the past week. Out of those eight, two now remained. Her and Clint.

A shooting contest between two Avengers was always going to draw big attention, so it was hardly surprising, therefore, that the SHIELD agents were running a book. Clint was odds on favourite to win, but Steve had so far refused to take part, that is until ten minutes or so before the contest was supposed to start. He was stood outside the shooting range, eyes focussed on Katie and Clint as they both stood checking their equipment, a crowd steadily gathering behind him.

“I know she’s good, but she really doesn’t stand a chance.” Natasha drawled as she stood at his side. Her matter-of-fact tone caused something in his chest to stir, the lack of faith everyone bar Evans and Lawson from the lab seemed to be displaying in Katie over Clint riled him and he turned to Natasha, a smirk flickering over his face as he repeated the words Katie had said to him the first night they’d met.

“Ten bucks says you’re wrong.” He stuck his hand out.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, before shaking his hand “Alright Rogers, you’re on.”

His hands returned to his belt buckle and both Katie and Clint signalled they were ready.

Evans went into the room, it was soundproof unless you pushed the button to listen in, which Rumlow did, of course.

“Okay you both no the rules but I’m gonna repeat ‘em just in case. No pushing or shoving of your opponent because that’s just a shitty thing to do.” Evans said, his Texan drawl loud as his hand scratched at his ginger beard. “Perfect kill shots are an extra half-point. Twenty minute time limit is in force. If you’re tied on score then we’ll go to the number of kill shots made.” Evans looked at them and they both nodded, Katie licking her lips. “Now. To your starting lines. You may go when the barriers open.” Evans nodded and held his right hand up, three fingers extended “May the odds be ever in your favour…”

Steve had no idea what that was a reference too, but he heard the rest of the people around him snigger. Katie threw her head back in a laugh as Clint mimicked Evan’s hand gesture as the other Sniper left the room.

The two opponents both looked out over the room from their starting positions at the obstacles which were constructed out of crates and various other objects. Katie cracked her neck side to side as Clint raised his pistol again, looking down the barrel before he turned his head to meet Katie’s gaze. She put her gun back into its thigh holster and turned to her old SO.

“May the best woman win.” she smirked, as she felt the blood pounding in her ears. Then, with a loud klaxon, the barriers opened in front of them and they both shot forward.

It might have been a friendly competition, but Katie wasn’t someone who liked losing so she was playing to win, and that was obvious from the determination written all over her face. Steve felt a surge of pride as he watched her leaping from obstacle to obstacle, landing shot after shot. After she hit her fourth target head easily and ahead of Clint, Steve heard Natasha hiss through her teeth.

“Ok, so maybe she has a little chance…”

He didn’t reply, simply watched, silently willing her on.

As the minutes ticked on, the two continued, both making leaps, dropping into rolls, and ducking behind corners. Katie took another shot, and paused for a split second, if she was counting correctly there were two more to go and five minutes left on the clock. She looked up for her next target and saw Clint was blocking her way, knelt down, aiming at his own. Katie knew the sensible thing to do would be to wait, but then she was a Stark, being sensible wasn’t one of her main attributes. With a smirk she re-holstered her gun and sprinted as fast as she could, launching herself forward into a perfect front flip, catapulting right over the top of Clint before she immediately slid onto a knee and brought the handgun back up, aiming at the target.

Outside the room there was a lot of cheering and cat calls at her display of acrobatics.

Katie moved to her final target, back against a large crate, aimed but then missed and Steve closed his eyes- that would cost her.

“Shit!” She exclaimed, doubling over to catch her breath as at that point the klaxon sounded again to say they were out of time. She stood up, cocking the safety on her pistol before stowing it away as Clint walked over to her, pulling her into a hug.

“Sharp shooting, Nova!” He grinned, ruffling at her hair. Both of them turned as the doors open and a few agents walked in, back slapping them both as Evans collected the targets and went to tally up the points.

“That was impressive!” Steve smiled as he crossed the room. “Both of you.”

“Yeah, not bad Stark.” Nat added, appraisingly

“Thanks.” Katie nodded, taking a drink of the bottle of water Clint handed to her. She was red faced, sweating but absolutely thrilled, pumped full of adrenaline. She placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath

“And we have the results!” Evans said and Clint threw his arm round Katie as hers slid round his waist. “Stark you missed one giving you nine and three kill shots, taking you to ten point five.” Cheers rang around at the pretty damned good score and Katie grinned as Evans waited until the applause died down before he continued. “However, Barton hit each target, giving him ten plus four kill shots, taking him to twelve over all meaning he is the winner of this year’s STRIKE Shoot Off!”

“Damned it!” Katie groaned, shaking Clint’s hand as various cheers and complaints went up and people started to cash in their bets.

“You’re fired.” Steve heard a familiar voice say. Spinning round, he saw Fury handing over a fifty to an agent whose name escaped him and Steve bit back a smile. The Director had bet on Katie. That one mistake had been costly.

“Cough up Rogers.” Nat held out her hand and he turned to her, sighing and fished in his pocket for a note, handing it to her.

“You bet on me?” Katie looked at him, surprised.

“Course I did, Doll.” he said immediately.

“Yeah I didn’t, sorry Stark.” Nat took the ten-note off him “Clint’s never lost a challenge yet.”

“He nearly did.” Steve looked at Katie proudly before he glanced back at Natasha. “Was worth the bet to see you get so twitchy Romanoff.”

“Seriously?” Clint turned to Natasha. “You got twitchy?”

“I’ll admit at one point I thought Stark might have just shaded it.” Nat narrowed her eyes at Steve who simply shrugged, hands dropping to the front of his belt buckle.

“To be fair, there was one point where I thought that too.” Clint smiled, and Katie felt a surge of pride in her chest as he pulled the magazine out of his pistol. “Did good Nova, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Clint.” she smiled at him.

“So, who fancies a drink?” Barton looked around, clapping his hands together.

“I’m game.” Katie nodded as she stripped down her weapon.

Natasha hummed in agreement and then Steve realised they were all looking at him. He hesitated, he really did need to train as he hadn’t had a decent run that morning and he’d be restless all evening otherwise, but after that…why not?

"I gotta work out first but if you tell me where you’re going I’ll join you when I’m done.”

“Take a day off!” Nat drawled, examining her nails. Steve was about to reply but Katie got there first.

“If he doesn’t work out he’s a right crank! And no one likes a Cranky Cap.”

“You know what Stark?” Steve started but she simply stuck her tongue out at him causing him to roll his eyes, fighting to keep the smile off his face.

“Why don’t we try the new sports bar on the high-street, what’s it called again?” Clint suggested.

“Home Run?” Nat asked.

“Yeah that’s it.” he nodded “Couple of doors down from the Burger joint.”

“I’ll find it.” Steve said as Clint nodded, making for the door, Natasha following. Katie turned to Steve, smiling at him as he surveyed the room.

"You did a good job,” he nodded to the obstacle course “Did it take you back to fighting Aliens?”

“Not quite the same, you know? No returning gunfire… no life-or-death stakes… no Captain America cushioning my fall when we got blown out of a bank window,” she teased. He laughed, as she started to back up towards the door. “I won’t take up your workout time. See you at the bar?”

“You never take up my time, Honey.” He smiled back, honestly, before he felt the flush rise up his neck. What a dumbass thing to say. “See you later.” He nodded.

With that she took her leave, tugging her hair out the ponytail as she left, allowing the gentle waves to cascade down her back.

********

Half an hour or so later, after Katie had showered and changed, the three Avengers were making the twenty minute or so walk to the bar downtown.

“You know I still can’t believe I got to within a point and a half of you.” Katie nudged Clint.

“Me neither actually.” Natasha mused. “I thought it was gonna be a whitewash.”

“Nice to know you have so much faith in me, Widow.” Katie scoffed and Nat snorted.

“Tell you who did have faith, other than Rogers… Fury.” She looked at Katie who grinned from ear to ear.

“Hang on…the boss bet against me?” Clint stopped. With a heavy sigh he shook his head. “Damned, that hurts.”

“Don’t take it personally.” Katie shrugged as they reached the bar. With a loud snort, Clint opened the door to let the girls step in first and then he joined them, looking around at the new surroundings. It was low lit but piled with sports memorabilia held in various glass cases around the room and on the walls. They took the time to look at most of it on their way to the bar where Clint bought the first round. Drinks in hand, they headed to a plush, leather seated booth and settled down.

The three friends fell into an easy chat, and then the inevitable teasing about Rumlow fancying Katie started up and she groaned. Clint and Nat enjoyed ribbing her about him and she had to admit, he wasn’t subtle to be fair. He’d asked her out three times now and she’d politely declined but it didn’t stop her friends from enjoying teasing her about it. Clint and Nat took turns in trying to highlight Rumlow’s more endearing qualities. They managed a sum total of three when Clint leaned back in his chair and shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s all I got. I’m out.” He grinned as Katie laughed, raising her glass to her mouth to drain the last of her beer.

“Yeah, he’s not relationship materiel.” Nat shrugged

“But you could just fuck him, get what you need and kick him out before breakfast.” Clint suggested causing Katie to choke down her mouthful of European lager and pick up the beer mat nearest her.

Steve chose that exact moment to walk into the bar. He watched as the beer mat hit Clint straight between the eyes, and Katie threw her head back in pure, unadulterated laughter. Something in the Captain’s chest stirred as he watched her, that wonderful smile and laugh filling her face.

“Hey.” He greeted them as they all looked up. “You guys need another drink?”

“Cheers Cap, three beers.” Clint motioned round the table and Steve headed off to the bar. Katie watched him go, eye trained on his ass which looked remarkably fine in those dark denims, then, realising what she was doing and who she was with, she let out silent groan as she turned back to see Clint and Nat exchanging a glance, a glance between two people who had just discovered the best secret ever.

“What?” she shrugged, trying to keep her face as straight as possible. “Girl can look, right?”

“Nova, you ain’t just looking, you’re practically drooling.” Clint grinned. “You soft on Cap?”

“No, I just happen to…” She hesitated as she stumbled for the words “…appreciate what my father had a hand in producing, that’s all.”

“Bullshit!” Natasha snorted as Clint roared with laughter. “You’re hot for Rogers.”

“No, I’m…”

“You know, considering you’re a secret agent your poker face is really shit!” Clint pointed at her

“Oh fuck off, the both of you.” She spluttered and the pair of them continued to chuckle, exchanging looks in that infuriating way they did, until Steve returned, setting down the four pints which he easily held in his hands and slid into the spare seat next to Katie.

Thankfully, Natasha and Clint decided to leave their teasing alone and the four of them struck up a conversation talking about everything and anything. A few more pints were drunk and when it came back to Clint’s turn to buy he came back from the bar, a wicked grin on his face.

“Oh, no I know that look!” Katie pointed at him and Clint shrugged, placing her pint down in front of her before he sat down.

“Yeah, she’s right.” Natasha eyed him. “What you up to?”

“I’m just in the mood for another challenge.” Clint leaned forward, his eyebrows raising up and down as he spoke.

“Like what?” Katie folded her arms

“Which one of you…” he said, waving his finger between her and Nat, “…can down a pint fastest?”

“Is that really wise?” Steve asked and Katie smirked.

“Not for Nat, no.”

The red head quirked an eyebrow, “I’m game if you are.”

Katie shrugged as Clint chuckled and pounded his hand on the table. “Alright then, Ladies! On your marks…”

As soon as Clint had done counting down Katie raised the glass to her mouth and chugged, draining it in four seconds flat before turning it upside down on top of her head. Natasha wasn’t even half way through hers before she groaned and set it down, trying to supress a burp.

Steve couldn’t help but look at Katie, his mouth falling open.

"What?” she laughed, shrugging as the Captain exchanged a look with Clint. “I spent three years at University, drinking with boys.”

“Yeah well I’ll stick to Vodka.” Nat shook her head “Fancy that as a challenge?”

“Not a chance.” Katie scoffed, “Although Cap could.”

“He could, but he won’t” Steve sternly shot her a look “Because it wouldn’t be fair.”

Katie rolled her eyes pouting.

“You do know I’m Russian, right. Well, I was.” Nat leaned back on the bench. “I was practically weaned on the stuff.”

“Yes, I know that, but I can’t get drunk.” Steve shrugged. “My metabolism burns it off too fast.”

“Cap,” Clint sighed, shaking his head, “that might just be the saddest thing I have ever heard.”

“Even sadder than when you heard you were shipping off to guard Thor’s hammer?” Nat asked. Clint considered her point for a moment, and shrugged.

“Hmmmm. Maybe the same level of sadness at learning I was about to head to Butt-fuck America for an undefined amount of time, yes.”

Steve choked into his beer. Besides him Katie laughed and as Steve looked at Clint, the archer snorted and shook his head.

“Cap. I’m serious. It was legit in the middle of the fucking desert. Nothing for miles.”

“Hey, what happened to that one eyed puppy we found?” Katie asked suddenly.

“Err, I took him to some friends.” Clint answered after a slight pause. “Their kids love him, he’s living the best life.”

Katie and Natasha shared a smile, both understood friends to mean his family and his own kids.

“Still eating Pizza?” Katie asked.

“Pizza?” Steve asked, frowning. “Who feeds a dog pizza?”

“Well he was a bit like you in that respect. Do anything for a double pepperoni with extra cheese.” Katie nudged him with her elbow

“As long as its New York style.” Steve drained his glass, matter of factly.

“Admit it, you enjoyed it when it took you to Second City” Katie eyed him.

“You been to Seconds?” Clint asked. “Thought you swore you wouldn’t go back after that waiter said he wanted to give you a real slice of Chicago to talk about?”

“He did not!” Natasha giggled.

Katie groaned “He did.”

“Now, I wish I’d seen that.” Nat grinned as Clint let out a loud snort.

“She went full Supernova in three seconds flat. Dragged him over the counter and everything.”

“You didn’t?” Steve glanced at her, although he knew the answer from the look on her face as she groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Look… we had just got back from a week’s stake out in Saudi Arabia…” she sighed, shrugging as Clint and Natasha laughed “I was tired and fending off the advances of some greasy, 40 something year old man politely really wasn’t top of my list.”

“Why not? You do it every day to Rumlow” Nat smirked.

At the mention of his name Steve felt his eyes narrow. He hated the way the STRIKE leader blatantly eyed Katie up at every given chance. It was disrespectful.

“Don’t start that again” Katie rolled her eyes.

“He’s not a bad looking guy.” Nat persisted. “You could do worse.”

“You like him so much you fuck him!” Katie’s voice was snappy. Romanoff leaned back in her chair, eyeing her over half full glass, smirking.

“Touched a nerve, Stark?”

“No, you’re just talking crap, as usual.” she shot back, standing up. “My round.”

Steve moved so that she could get out from the booth and watched her head to the bar.

“Think we need to lay off the whole Rumlow thing.” Clint snorted, turning Nat. “She’s clearly not interested.”

“She’s obviously looking for someone a little less…” Nat pondered and Clint cut in.

“Of an ass hat?”

Steve snorted and Natasha shrugged.

“I was gonna say a little more of a gentleman but…if the cap fits…” Her eyes flashed to Steve and he looked at her, his eyebrows pulling together as he felt the heat flushing to his neck. She simply shrugged, in her usual nonchalant way before she changed the subject.

****

A few hours later Clint and Nat decided they’d had enough and left to grab a taxi. When Clint was in town he always stayed with Nat, prompting Steve to wonder if there was anything going on beyond the platonic friendship. He pondered it for a moment, deciding to just ask the question.

“Is there something between them?” he nodded to the pair as they left.

“No.” Katie shook her head “Absolutely not.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Okay, I’ll tell you, but don’t be pissed I haven’t told you before…” she said, pausing “Clint…he’s married, has two kids.”

“What?” Steve choked on his beer.

“They have a place, somewhere, I don’t know exactly but it’s off SHIELD’s books and no one knows bar me, Nat and Fury.”

“Huh.” Steve pondered the information for a moment and Katie took a deep breath.

“Look, sorry I didn’t tell you but…”

“It’s okay.” Steve smiled. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little bit disappointed she hadn’t told him before, but he understood, she was loyal to a fault. “I get it, he’s your friend.”

“Yeah I know but he’s not my best friend.” she batted her eyelids at him.

“Hmmm, stop buttering me up.”

“Has it worked?”

“Yes.” He deadpanned, draining his glass and she grinned “Same again?”

They had a couple more before Katie decided she was one pint away from being drunk and Steve found himself a little bit disappointed she wanted to leave. He was enjoying spending the time with her. It felt different to their usual trips out, she’d been more relaxed than he had seen her in a long time, enjoying the gentle touches she made to his arm and leg when she was teasing him.

His mind flicked back to Natasha’s little comment before and he found himself wondering if the red head knew something he didn’t. Was there something there on Katie’s part too? As he studied her for a moment as she pulled on her jacket, talking to him, he shook himself out of it. No, why would someone like her look twice at someone like him.

He managed to tune back into what she was saying, telling her no way was he giving her a lift home on the back of his bike without a helmet, causing her to pout and bat her lashes at him in an outrageously over the top manner causing him to snort.

“That ain’t gonna work either.” He shook his head and she shrugged.

“Worth a shot.” She chuckled as they made their way to the door. “And speaking of shots, you really shouldn’t have told Nat you can’t get drunk and whooped her ass at a vodka necking contest.” Her arm linked into his as they walked, and she leaned into him a little, her head laying against his upper bicep.

“Now that would have been dishonest. “Steve smirked. “Surely you’re not saying I should use my enhancement to my advantage in such a situation?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” she nodded.

Steve laughed, sticking his arm out to hail a cab for her.

“But then you’re a very honest kinda guy.”

“I have my moments.” He turned to face her

“Moments? Nah ah, you can’t lie for shit!” she grinned at him.

“No, I can’t lie to you for shit, Sweetheart” He rolled his eyes “You know me too well.”

“Hmmm, true.” she nodded in agreement as the car stopped at the curb and Steve opened the door for her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Steve asked, not particularly happy she was cabbing back alone, it was times like this he wished he had a car. “I can walk back for my bike.”

“I can handle myself, I’m a trained killer remember?” she raised her hands and made gun signs at him with her fingers. He shook his head, smiling.

“You’re an idiot.” He snorted a laugh.

“But you love me!” She grinned, standing on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. “G’night, Soldier.”

“Call me when you’re home.” He instructed “And if I ain’t heard from you in twenty…” he raised his voice so the cab driver could hear.

She shook her head, smiling as she climbed into the taxi and waved as it pulled off.

It wasn’t long before she was home and once she made her way into her bedroom, Katie kicked off her boots, flopped down onto her bed and pulled out her phone, better do as Captain Badass instructed or knowing him he’d turn up and kick the door in.

“So I’m home Old timer…” she said, when he answered and from his sigh she knew he would be rolling his eyes.

“Less of the old” he retorted, the clinking of cutlery and plates rattling in the background.

“What you doing?” she asked.

“Making food.”

“You can’t cook.”

“Yes I can.”

“So why have you never cooked for me?” she asked indignantly, feeling somewhat annoyed that she always did the cooking for the two of them.

“Because you’re better at it.” He replied, simply. “And I’ve made you grilled cheese before. And soup. Now drink some water and go to sleep.”

“God you’re so bossy.” she grumbled.

“Someone has to be, you’re a law unto yourself.”

“If I say it will you do what I said?”

“Maybe, probably, definitely maybe” she shrugged to herself.

“Then you’re awesome. Goodnight, Doll.”

“Night Stevie.”

****

Steve cut the call, placing his phone down on the counter as he thought back over the day, waiting for his food to heat up. For the first time in a long time he actually felt completely at ease. Ease with his life both in and out of SHIELD.

Up until a few weeks ago it had still felt slightly confusing, and it still did with the STRIKE team sometimes. At first he had been tentative, not trying to step on Rumlow’s toes but that had quickly settled and the two of them had fallen into a pretty good working relationship. As much as Rumlow could rile him, Steve knew that the man was good at his job, and Steve was equally good at his. He was the tactician, Rumlow organised the troops. But sometimes, well, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Sometimes he felt interest, but it was often coloured by the lingering disillusionment that his team were merely humouring him as the blue eyed all American hero he had been painted to be.

But never once had he felt like that with Katie.

And then his apartment seemed to blur in front of him, causing him to realise this went way beyond some daft crush. He was really falling in deep. The heat travelled up his chest into his neck and he felt his palms become sweaty. He dropped his arms to wipe them on his jeans as the fizzy feeling left his body, but stayed by him, swirling around until he could practically hear it. This really, really wouldn’t do. She was his best friend, a work colleague, the daughter of one of his friends from the forties…and then there was Peggy.

Not for the first time Steve delved into the reasons he’d been drawn to Katie, comparing her to Peggy. Both women had strong personalities, an unwavering sense of justice and ethics, a deep well of compassion, loyalty, and the air of authority that put more than one man in his place, including himself. They were both incredibly beautiful, filled with passion, devotion and ambition…

Abandoning his food, his appetite lost completely, he threw the remains into the bin and headed into his bedroom, intending to do what he did best when it came to women.

Stick his head in the sand and hope to God it all went away.

****

Once she’d cleaned her face of make-up and pulled on a pair of pyjamas, Katie collapsed into her pillow, thinking about what a good day it had been. She hadn’t disgraced herself at the contest, had a good evening in the pub afterwards, and to top it off Fury and Steve had actually backed her in said contest.

At the thought of Steve, it reminded her she needed some water. Heading to the kitchen she grabbed a glass, filled it, and then made her way back to bed, this time snuggling down under the covers as she smiled to herself.

It was kind of nice to have Steve looking out for her, even if he was a bossy bastard about drinking water. It showed he cared. And it wasn’t just that, it was the way he was so comfortable with her. The gentle touches to her arm and lower back, the fact he called her doll or sweetheart. The smile that he flashed her that could light up his entire face, and those eyes, those god damned beautiful eyes that could drown her in seconds.

Her stomach was suddenly crawling with those damned butterflies, the same ones she had been feeling on or off around him now since Thanksgiving. And they fluttered from her stomach to her chest

“You’re hot for Rogers…”

Natasha and Clint had both hit the nail on the head, and that nail was getting harder and harder to ignore. She had feelings for Captain fucking America. Her dad’s friend, her best friend.

Groaning, she rolled over and shoved her head into the pillows. “I’m so fucked.”

**** Chapter 3

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #katie stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic

107 notes · View notes

maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part five

summary: in the aftermath of hurricane agatha, the pogues are thrown into a mess none of them are ready to deal with. things that don’t exactly top sailor’s ‘fun things to do this summer’ list: surfing in the middle of a hurricane, getting punched in the face by a stupid kook, and stumbling upon a mystery that turns her and her friends into the damn scooby gang. when she said she wanted an exciting summer, she should’ve been more specific. 🙃

word count: 8.1k+ (it just keeps getting longer and longer 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect/gambling addiction, child abandonment, anxiety, self-worth issues, jj being both soft af and hot for his best friend, weed usage, underage drinking, unresolved sexual tension, sailor being thirsty, swearing, guns, fighting, blood, that one trope where two characters only call each other by their nicknames/last names until they don’t because of ~reasons~ that makes me lose my shit every time (like a lot of the obx fandom, i also headcanon that jj stands for jesse james), references to the three stooges (jj=moe, pope=larry, and john b=curly and that’s a fact lmao), to all the boys i've loved before, avengers infinity war, and david attenborough, and a line heavily inspired/influenced by taylor swift's "dress" (a song that happens to be on the playlist for this series)

a/n: we’re finally entering canon territory, y’all (with a few tweaks, of course!) but i’m determined not to make this a rehash/retelling word for word of the show ‘cause that’s just no fun, so expect smaller pieces (vignettes, i guess?) of storytelling as i expand on canon with sailor and the rest of the pogues. think of it like a mixtape of sorts, but with words instead of music if that makes sense lol. this part originally covered episodes one and two but i wrote so much that i had to split it, so we're just covering most of episode one for now (i still can't even believe how much shit actually goes down in the pilot lol). i was veryyyy excited to write the kegger at the boneyard 'cause some ~juicy~ stuff happens there lol. fun fact: the title of this part is a term used by surfers to refer to getting up at the ass crack of dawn to hit the waves. as always, this is unbetaed so any mistakes are mine. enjoy!

gif credit to @jj-maybnks

~Masterlist~

part five: dawn patrol

The next morning, Hurricane Agatha hits the island with all the force of a knockout punch; the sound of rain pounding against the roof echoes impossibly loud throughout the Chateau but Sailor’s bewildered shriek is even louder.

“You’re gonna what the what?!”

John B shrugs as the stunned redhead, lounging on the couch, looks away from watching the storm and fixes him with a wide-eyed stare.

“I’m gonna surf the surge.”

“Hell yeah, bro!” JJ yells from his spot as her footrest, punching his fist in the air and she sends him an exasperated look, both at his enthusiastic encouragement of John B’s downright moronic idea and the fact that she already misses the feeling of his thumb drawing circles on her bare ankle.

“Are you two insane?”

“Possibly.” John B states, grinning when JJ follows that up with, “Absolutely.” The blond boy pushes Sailor’s legs off his lap as he stands which earns him another displeased scowl from the redhead. “Come on, Sail. Live a little.”

“Oh, I’ll live alright, but you idiots won’t,” She takes his offered hand, letting him pull her to her feet and then down the hall after John B as she continues, “because this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”

“See, this is why we keep you around,” He replies, laughing when she dodges his attempt to ruffle her hair and dashes forward to beat him to the spare room. “We do something stupid, you and Kie read us the riot act. It’s tradition.”

Sailor grabs her long-sleeved rash vest -if she’s going to sit on the beach to keep an eye on these fools in the middle of a damn hurricane, at least she’ll wear something that offers a little bit of warmth- and heads to the bathroom to change. “Yeah, and then I’m there to patch you up when you inevitably hurt yourselves.”

“Can’t help that you have that healing touch.” His cheeky response floats through the closed door and she catches herself smiling -wide and just a little bit sappy- in the mirror.

After a quick detour to pick up Pope, who’s already drenched from sneaking out his window, the pogues (sans Kiara who never answered John B’s text in the group chat and, knowing her parents, was probably on hurricane lockdown) head to the beach, where the rugged gray surf hammers against the shore with unrelenting brutality. Sailor trails behind the others as they grab their boards and make a break for the water, blatantly ignoring the barriers that read ‘beach closed’ in large, impossible to miss letters. A few hundred feet down the coast, she can barely make out The Sandbar all boarded up for the storm and she thinks of her mother, wondering if she's riding it out inside or at home; either way Carmen's all alone and Sailor's stomach twists with guilt, both for letting her phone battery die so she didn't have to answer her calls and for leaving in the first place, even though it was the right thing to do for her damn sanity.

“These signs are here for a reason, guys!” She calls over the howling wind, squinting through the rain at the rough waves with her hands tapping uneasily against her thighs. Watching John B run into the ocean with reckless abandon (Pope following with a little more caution, thankfully) immediately puts her anxiety on edge so she sits down heavily on the wet sand, wrapping her arms around the knees pulled to her chest and looks up at the blond boy who stayed behind. “Aren’t you gonna join the other stooges?”

JJ shrugs at her question, glancing out toward their friends before dropping his board to the ground and taking a seat behind the trembling girl, his chest to her back. “This one can’t just leave you hanging out here all alone, lookin’ all sad and shit. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, J.” She smirks and scoots back in the sand, lips curling into a full-fledged smile when he lifts his arms to drape them over her shoulders. As he tucks her securely against his front, the warmth of his body helps ward off the biting chill of the rain, and so does the fact that he knows her so well, that he knows this is exactly what she needs to help calm the panicking butterflies in her stomach.

He leans close, lips brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispers his next words like a secret, low and just for her even when there’s no one around to hear them. “Trust me, Sail, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

She suddenly finds those butterflies in her stomach fluttering for a whole different reason.

The Chateau sits in complete darkness, the power having been knocked out since they returned from dropping Pope off at his house that afternoon. Sailor thinks it’s about ten at night as she lies on her back on the mattress of the sleeper sofa, listening to the wind rip through the trees outside with Binx curled up at her feet. The spare room was way too hot without a working fan, even after she braided her hair off to the side and changed into a crop top and shorts, so she and JJ had returned to the living room where it was cooler, if only by a little bit.

John B has already retreated to his room for the night; he’d been acting quieter than usual since their little adventure at the beach but between a lantern-lit dinner of semi-stale cereal and passing a joint around, she never got the chance to ask if he was okay before he made his escape. JJ lies beside her with his limbs all askew and from the slow rise and fall of his bare chest she’s 99% sure he’s out like a light until, out of the blue, he mutters into the stagnant air, “Can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”

She blinks heavily -that weed must’ve hit her harder than she thought because she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring- when he lazily turns his head to stare back, a halcyon grin on his face and in the dark, his pupils are blown so wide she can barely see the blue of his irises. Her hand itches with a longing to sweep that one stubborn strand of hair away from his forehead but instead she blindly slides it to the left until she finds his and holds on tight; his fingers automatically lace with hers even as the space between his eyebrows furrows and the smile falls from his lips.

“Sail?”

“I don’t think my dad’s ever coming back.” The redhead’s mouth blurts before her brain can catch up, heavy words lingering like a storm cloud ready to downpour. The thought had been weighing on her heart for a while now, from when she’d first suspected it two months ago, and it feels bittersweet to finally admit it out loud, even when she hadn’t planned doing it.

Her bedmate is silent for a long time as he looks at her through the shadows and she focuses on the touch of his palm against hers instead of the awful mounting pressure behind her eyes -hadn’t she promised herself she was done crying over her dad?- until he asks quietly, “Why? I mean, good riddance 'cause he's kind of the worst, but why?"

“A feeling,” She murmurs around the sudden lump in her throat, biting the inside of her lip hard enough that she tastes the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. “He...he usually comes back after a month or two but this time it’s been almost five.” A bitter laugh escapes from her chest and she shakes her head. “I guess he finally decided he’s done dealing with my worthless ass.”

JJ’s eyes flash like lightning as he rolls over to face her, the hand not entwined with hers reaching up to cup her cheek. “Sail, shut up. Don’t you dare say that.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s true,” She says sharply, words acerbic and biting and full of a self-hatred that’s been poisoning her heart ever since she was old enough -eight and far, far too young- to discern the way her dad’s love for her was fickle at best, non-existent at worst. “I could’ve been a better daughter- a perfect daughter- and he might still be here and my mom wouldn't hate me. I should’ve tried harder-”

“Jesus Christ, Sailor!” He interrupts, calloused yet gentle thumb wiping away the tears she just now registers sliding down her cheeks and the shock of hearing her full name come from his mouth makes the rest of her vitriolic thoughts fly out the window. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

The image of him blurs through the darkness in shades of black and she closes her eyes, jaw clenched in an attempt to quell the tremble of her lip as he goes on in his low, soft voice, “You should’ve tried harder to do what, huh? What could you have possibly done better?”

She’s quiet for a long time, so long that her tears run dry and all that remains is smeared salt on her skin because she doesn’t have an answer. What could she have done? That terrible thought in her mind rears it’s ugly head again, the one that tells her she’s not good enough, that everything’s her fault because she doesn’t do enough, but when she asks it what more she can do, there’s no reply. There never is.

“Hey, look at me.” She hears the rustling of sheets and feels his fingers slip from hers before they come to rest on her cheek, both hands now cradling her face; she opens her eyes to find him hovering over her and the sheer lack of distance between them makes her heart skip a beat. “You...”

“What about me?” Her voice cracks as she speaks and in a mirror of her from earlier, JJ shakes his head, causing that stubborn strand of hair to once again fall into his eyes.

“I wish you’d see yourself the way I do.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “And how do you see me?”

“Fucking amazing.” He says simply and in the dark, she can barely see the flush slowly starting to creep up his neck. “Smart, brave, and loyal as hell. A beautiful badass who doesn’t take shit from anybody. A girl who listens when someone needs to be heard.”

The redhead stares up at him with wide green eyes as he goes on and on, listing all these wonderful little things that her traitorous mind has a hard time processing, let alone believing; he really thinks about her like this? “You care so damn much,” “You’re kind but not afraid speak out,” “You’re the one I trust the most.”

Her hand slowly releases its tight grip on the sheets and slides up his bare arm, feeling the heat of his skin under her palm as she touches his face, not trusting herself to speak because she’s so afraid of saying something dumb or stupid and ruining everything ('like I always do,' her mind echoes).

“You’re my best friend, Sailor, and yeah, you’re not perfect. You drink and you smoke weed and you don’t get straight As in school but fuck, you’re real and so not worthless.” He says each word with such conviction that its impossible not to believe him, as much as her brain screams at her not to. “And I want you to know that what your parents think of you doesn't matter at all, got it?"

Without warning, she flings her arms around his neck and JJ loses his balance, falling onto her with a soft oof of surprise but Sailor doesn’t even feel the extra weight as she rests her face against his shoulder and finally finds her voice. “Thank you.”

He takes her with him when he rolls onto his side, arms wrapped tight around her waist and nose buried in her messy braid. “Just...trying to do the right thing, I guess. For once.”

She pulls back at his words, then leans forward and slowly presses her lips to his flushed cheek, just missing the corner of his mouth. She lets them linger for a beat longer than necessary before leaning back -not too far, just enough- and looking him in the eye. “Thank you, Jesse.”

He usually hates being called by his first name (she found that out pretty quickly into their friendship, “never call me Jesse” being one of the first things he ever said to her) but he just looks at her with a soft, endearing smile on his face as he leans back onto the bed, once again bringing her with him. “Promise me something, Sail?”

She glances up at him from his shoulder and meets his eyes. “Yeah?”

His fingers tuck an escaped red curl behind her ear. “Just...be you. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.”

She wishes it were that easy, that she could just step inside her mind and flip a switch and she could stop all those thoughts that’ve plagued her for years but it’s not. It’s gonna take time -time and a lot of patience and maybe even a miracle- but damn it, she’s gonna give it her all, not just for herself but for him and the rest of the pogues, too, the best friends she's ever had, so she nods and settles back down at his side. “I’ll try my best, J.”

“I know you will.”

"Sail, you're the best swimmer out of all of us. Think you can dive down there and check it out?"

The redhead peers over the edge of the HMS Pogue and into the water, where the murky shape of the sunken Grady-White sits thirty feet down on the bottom of the marsh, then nods at the rest of the pogues, an excited grin on her face.

"No problem," She answers John B, hopping up onto the very tip of the boat's bow with practiced ease before diving headfirst into the water to JJ's yell of "diver down!" It's dirtier than usual because of the hurricane but she doesn't let that stop her as she swims down and down until she reaches the top of the boat and pulls herself the rest of the way onto the deck, carefully scanning the area for...fuck. Honestly, she's got absolutely no clue what she's looking for but she assumes she'll know when she sees it.

'It' turns out to be a motel key, resting all alone on the floor by the steering wheel and she quickly reaches out to snatch it, sliding the silver key ring around her finger securely. When she pushes off toward the surface, she leaves the ghostly Grady-White behind with more questions than answers.

The rest of her friends are lined up in a row along the boat's railing, all staring at her with near identical expressions of anticipation as she breaks through the water and holds the key aloft with a triumphant smile.

"The Summer Winds Motel called, they want their key back!"

A little later that evening, Sailor would really regret finding that damn key but right now, she's having a great time dancing at the Boneyard with Kiara at the traditional post-hurricane kegger, second refill of beer in hand, spiked with Fireball from the flask tucked in her back pocket. To her, dancing's a lot like surfing -steady feet, swiveling hips, snapping shoulders- and she thinks that might be the reason she's so bad at it, anticipating the fluidity of water instead of the solidness of dry land. Or it could be that she just doesn't have rhythm when she's a little buzzed. That works, too.

"Ow, Sail!" Kiara winces as the redhead steps on her foot again, rolling her eyes fondly when she throws her head back with a loud, tipsy giggle.

"My bad, Kie!" She twirls in the sand, hair dancing around her shoulders like fire, and finds herself spinning right into a herd of dancing tourons, all too drunk to care that she's spilling her beer all over their feet. Large, olive-skinned hands grab her waist to spin her again and she laughs, smiling over her shoulder at a cute dark-haired touron as he slides one palm over to settle against the bare skin of her lower back. She pushes one hand on his shoulder with just enough resistance that he doesn't get too close into her personal space as he leans in to speak in a low Southern drawl, brown eyes turned a pretty bronze in the glow of the nearby bonfire.

"This probably isn't the best thing to say to a beautiful girl but you kind of dance like a giraffe."

Sailor bursts out laughing at that. "Hey, I think giraffes are very elegant creatures so I'll take that as a compliment!"

The boy grins and she smiles, too, letting him take her free hand and pull her into the throng of dancing bodies. He's almost as bad a dancer as she is but he's fun to talk to and together they gleefully show off their worst moves until their feet hurt -she's lost count of how many times she stepped on his toes- and her solo cup is empty. "Come on," She says and this time, she's the one to grab his hand and lead him over to the closest keg, where John B's dishing out beer with an expert flourish.

"'Sup, Sail," He lifts his chin in greeting as he fills her cup, smirking when she immediately pulls out her flask and adds a long pour of Fireball on top. "Who's your friend?"

"JB, this is Adam, he's visiting from Tennessee. Adam, meet John B, one of my best friends and a total moron," She makes quick introductions, smiling into her drink as he scowls and playfully sprays some beer at her feet before filling another cup and holding it out to the other boy with a jab at her expense.

"Be careful around her, man. She's a handful."

The touron accepts the drink with a shrug and a quick wink in her direction. "Good thing I happen to like 'em a little crazy."

Ugh. More than a little miffed at that, she rolls her eyes and takes a long sip of beer to hide her annoyance when Adam laughs and slings his arm around her shoulders. Calling her a giraffe was actually kind of cute in a very weird, endearing way but he instantly lost whatever points he had with her the second that 'c' word came out of his pretty mouth. She glances around the Boneyard while the boys start talking about surfing (she scoffs to herself, what does a farm kid from Tennessee know about that?), scanning the crowd for the rest of her friends and a chance to ditch him. Kiara's sitting on a big piece of driftwood, chatting up a stunning, deeply tan girl with glossy black hair -she waves when their eyes meet and shoots Sailor a cheeky grin before returning to her conversation- while the ever awkward Pope seems to be stuck in the middle of one of his rambles about autopsies as he stands around the fire, the willowy blonde beside him looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. She'd deliberately lost track of JJ a while ago, after she watched him getting a little too close to a tiny brunette, his hand low on her back as she passed him a drink and ran her fingers up his bare arm, coaxing that killer smile of his onto his face (that girl may have gotten his smile but Sailor got his eyes and they watched her until she pointedly turned away).

Honestly, she's a bit -okay, a lot- peeved. Here she is, thinking that they're the closest they've ever been before (they've always been close, ever since that day in sixth grade, but this is a whole different kind of close), and just when she feels like she may finally be ready to admit some things, some feelings, he's off doing who knows what with another girl; to be fair, she's off with another guy that she'd, until a minute ago, fully planned on kissing, but that's only because of him! Him and some weird need she has to keep him looking at her, to make him jealous -she shakes her head and takes another swig of her whiskey-spiked beer. Nope, nope, not gonna think about that.

Poor Pope looks like he's really struggling so Sailor pushes all thoughts of her blond best friend from her mind and goes to rescue him, ducking out from under Adam's sweaty arm and walking away without a backwards glance, ignoring the confusion in his voice as he calls her name. She pushes through the crowd to her friend and steps right in front of the girl he's trying to talk to, grabbing his hand with her free one.

"Come dance with me?"

The smile of pure relief that breaks out over his face makes her own widen as he lets her pull him back through the mass of bodies to a less-crowded part of the make-shift dance floor, the tension bleeding out of his hunched shoulders with every step.

"You're an angel, Sailor."

She laughs and wraps her arm around his shoulders, leading him in a carefree twirl across the cool sand. "Tell me something I don't know."

Like a leaf caught up in a whirlwind, he's helpless to resist her infectious joy as they dance, grinning like fools and poking fun at each other; for a while, the redhead tries to forget about stupid, clueless boys and focuses on Pope who, while still a clueless boy, doesn't expect anything from her but pure, unconditional friendship that she's all too willing to give (although she did have a teensy little crush on him when they first became friends, she got over it pretty fast the second he started talking about the bodily functions of dead bodies in explicit detail). She shares her drink with him, giggling at the way his face morphs from curiosity to disgust to delight at the taste of her cinnamon beer concoction and lets him down the rest while she drinks straight from the flask that she pulls from her back pocket.

"You've got a shadow." Pope says, slightly nodding his chin over her shoulder and she takes his hand again, slowly spinning herself under his arm to take a quick glance, rolling her eyes when she spots Adam staring at her from the edge of the crowd. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately. Thought he was cute, then he called me crazy." She tucks the whiskey away with a shrug at her friend's sympathetic wince, then steps closer to him and raises a conspiratorial eyebrow. "Wanna help me tell him to take a long walk off a short cliff?"

"Uh-"

"I think I can help with that," A familiar voice cuts off Pope's reply as JJ suddenly appears at her side, slipping his hand into her back pocket to spin her right into the circle of his arms before he plucks the flask from the other and takes a big sip in one smooth kinda sexy move. "Straight Fireball? Damn, Sail."

The redhead carefully schools her features into a blank mask but her body has other ideas, one hand instantly settling on his chest like it's second nature and her face flushing from more than just the alcohol as she casually replies, "You know I like things a little spicy." Completely aware of the way he's watching her every move, she snatches the whiskey back and downs the little bit that's left, trying and failing to ignore the thrill that shoots through her at those bright blue eyes of his darkening when her tongue darts out to lick her lips. Pope rolls his eyes at them both before muttering a quick 'see ya' and hastily melting back into the crowd.

"So, who're we telling to fuck off?" His voice is just a little strained and she feels her cool facade start to crack as she scowls, subtly tilts her head toward where Adam's still staring at her with an expression that looks like he ate a sour lemon. JJ spins her around to take a very conspicuous peek and her mouth curls into a grin, mask breaking completely when he shoots the touron a glare that screams 'try me, I dare you'; the heat from his hand still in her pocket burns as he leans in until his forehead rests on hers. "Let's give him a show."

Sailor hums and pretends to mull it over even as she coyly snakes her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, the harder panes of his body sliding almost sinfully against her softer curves as they sway together, "I don't know, you looked pretty cozy with that other girl earlier..." Is it kind of petty to bring it up? Yes, yes it is, but she can't resist toying with him like he did to her, just as she can't help the breathless gasp that escapes her lips when his fingers press hard into the toned flesh of her ass through her shorts.

"Why, Flynn, are you jealous?"

"Please, I saw that glare you gave him. If anyone's jealous, it's you, Maybank." She fires back while carding both hands through his hair and the pure gratification she feels at his slight shiver is nothing short of euphoric. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely takes notice of the frown Adam sends their way before he turns and stalks off toward the other side of the beach; honestly, she's so caught up in JJ and everything about him -the slow swing of his hips, the hands burning hot against the strip of her back exposed by her crop top, the darkened look in those ocean eyes- that she'd completely forgotten about the touron she danced with earlier in an effort to forget the boy she's dancing with now. She should've known it wouldn't have worked: Sailor could never forget JJ, no matter how hard she tries. He's like a permanent mark on her, a tattoo inked in gold, a beautiful, wonderous scar that she never wants to fade away.

"Seems like we scared him off so I don't have to worry about that anymore." His flushed face is so close she can feel his breath on her lips as he speaks and her eyes quickly flick down to his mouth on their own accord.

"And what about me?" She asks, twirling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, heart beating fast in anticipation as he smirks wickedly at the way her own face turns cherry red.

"Sail, babe, you don't have to worry about a damn thing."

All one of them has to do is tilt their head and everything will fall into place and she can once again know what it's like to kiss him-

"Let it go, Topper!" A sudden, annoyed shout breaks the two apart before they can close that final distance (Sailor's not sure who would've made the first move and she's both relieved and disappointed they won't get to find out), turning away from each other in tandem toward the gathering mass of bodies chanting 'fight, fight!' at the shoreline.

"JB, he's not worth it!" At the sound of Kiara's voice, they take off running across the sand and shove their way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Topper Thornton in all his frat boy glory get absolutely slammed with a hard punch to the jaw, courtesy of John B. The kook barely hits the ground before he's back on his feet and lunging forward to tackle him into the water, landing a hit of his own square in the eye.

"What the hell happened?" Sailor grabs Kiara's elbow and the dark haired girl looks at her with wide eyes as the boys continue to roll around, exchanging brutal blows while a stunned Pope watches from her other side.

"I don't even know, they just started wailing on each other!"

JJ stands silent to Sailor's right, jaw clenched and hands curled into fists as he stares at the brawl and she reaches over to wrap her fingers around his wrist, thumb calmly running circles on his skin.

"Top, seriously! Stop it!" Sarah Cameron stands in the sand just before the crashing waves, yelling furiously at her boyfriend and throwing her arms in the air when he ignores her. "What is wrong with you?"

The moment Topper lands three punches in a row on John B's battered face, Sailor decides she's seen enough. She rushes forward without thinking to grab the blond boy's arm, pulling as hard as she can in an attempt to get him off her friend and barely has time to register what's happening when the fist he was aiming at John B suddenly swings at her. It connects solidly with her left cheek and makes her stumble back, her hand flying to her throbbing face before she goes down hard onto her butt in the surf.

"What the fuck, Thornton?"

"Did you just punch a girl?"

"Ohhhh shit!"

A cacophony of voices yells from the shore as the kook boy stares down at her, momentarily stunned when he realizes who exactly he hit, and it gives John B an opening to wrestle him back into the water and land a solid punch right to his nose. Everything happens so fast after that that the redhead, still reeling in a wide-eyed daze, has a little trouble keeping up. First, Kiara and Pope splash through the waves to her side, kneeling down to help her to her feet with their arms around her waist. Second, Topper gains the upper hand and straight up tries to drown John B, holding his head under the water while Sarah screams at him to stop. And third, JJ -reckless, bold, protective JJ- pulls out that damn stolen gun, effectively bringing the whole mess to a grinding halt when he stalks forward and presses the barrel to the side of Topper's head.

"Your move, broski." He threatens and the beach is so quiet everyone can hear the click of the safety being switched off. The kook slowly raises his hands in the air and John B emerges from the water, stumbling forward onto his hands and knees with a horrible wet cough.

It's all too much for Sailor's poor tipsy self to take. The world spins beneath her feet as her head starts to pound and her shaking fingers fail to find purchase on Kiara's and Pope's shoulders.

"Guys, I don't feel so good," She manages to whisper and their looks of concern (the former) and panic (the latter) are the last thing she sees before her legs give out and everything goes black.

The first thing she registers is the pain that radiates from the left side of her face, her whole head throbbing with every beat of her heart and the sound of loud whispering right by her ear isn't helping at all.

"That's the best you can do, J? Seriously?"

"The power's out! I can't exactly pull ice out of my ass, Kie."

Something semi-cold gently rests against her cheek and she audibly sighs at the little bit of relief she feels, her hand sluggishly rising to hold it a little closer as she mumbles, "I wouldn't want your ass ice anyway." At least she tries to: her mouth feels like it's full of cotton and she's pretty sure the only thing that comes out is unintelligible gibberish.

Sailor opens her eyes and finds herself lying on her back on the sleeper sofa at the Chateau, a passed out John B to her right. Pope sits on the edge of the mattress by his side, holding a beer bottle to his friend's black eye and he sends her a relieved smile when he notices she's awake.

"There she is," JJ says from her other side and she turns to face him, not at all surprised to find him already looking at her, and the unabashed concern in his eyes sends a golden warmth through her whole body. Her fingers slip down the hand that's still holding the bottle to her cheek so she can run her thumb over the delicate bones in his wrist in a silent thank you.

A different, softer hand rests on her knee and she tears her gaze away from his face to smile at Kiara as she says, "Good to see you're okay, Sail."

The redhead sinks back into the pillow in embarrassment and covers her eyes with her free hand. God, she really passed out, didn't she? She passed out after taking one lousy punch to the face by a fucking kook, no less. How completely mortifying. She swallows thickly and sounds like a chain smoker when she says, "I'm so sorry, guys. I'm a total idiot."

The other three conscious pogues start protesting all at once -apparently there's many, many, different ways to say she's not an idiot- and the resulting volume of their combined voices is enough to make her headache even worse. She sits up and scoots back until she's propped against the couch and sets the now warm beer on the side table before massaging both of her temples.

"Will you please shut up, I can feel my brain beating in my skull."

For a second, there's wonderful, blissful silence and then:

"Holy shit, thank you," A groggy voice says to her right and she turns to watch a bleary-eyed John B claw his way back to consciousness. "You guys are fucking loud."

"He lives!" JJ shouts, ignoring the four glares sent his way and reaching over to clap his hand against the brunet boy's shoulder. "Welcome back, dude."

"Ugh," He suddenly rolls onto his stomach -Pope deftly catching the bottle when it nearly falls from the bed- and his muffled voice floats out from the pillow he shoves his head under like an ostrich in the sand. "Knock me back out."

"Aww, poor baby." Sailor gives his back a sympathetic pat and chuckles softly when he blindly feels around for her arm, pushing it away with another deep groan and a 'fuck off, Sail' that lacks any type of venom.

"Okay, now that you're both kind of conscious, let's agree that neither of you will ever fucking do that again. Got it?" Kiara addresses John B and Sailor as she stands from the bed and crosses her arms, fixing the latter with a piercing look that makes her feel like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar; she opens her mouth to defend herself but before she can say anything, Kiara turns her furious gaze to JJ and points an accusing finger at his face. "And you! What the hell were you thinking pulling that damn gun out, huh?"

"Jesus Christ, Kie!" He suddenly rockets to his feet and throws his hands in the air. "Sail got socked in the face and JB was getting fucking drowned, I wasn't really thinking much at all!”

The dark haired girl can't seemed to think of a response to that and looks away, staring at the floor with her jaw clenched as Pope, ever the mediator, rises to his feet, too, and rounds the bed to step between them placatingly.

"Let's just drop it for tonight, okay? They need to rest." He says, nodding toward the two still on the bed before wrapping his hand around Kiara's elbow and turning her toward the front door. She immediately pulls her arm from his grasp but still nods in agreement, the hard look in her eyes softening when she glances at her injured friends.

"Yeah, okay." She says and glances down at her watch, wincing when she catches sight of the time. "My parents'll kill me if I'm not home soon, anyway."

"Come on, I'll take you guys home." JJ says with a conciliatory look in her direction as Pope tosses him the Volkswagen's keys from his pocket and when she nods back, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, Sailor knows that all is forgiven, at least for now.

"Are you sure you're good to drive?" She asks and immediately rolls her eyes at his sarcastic reply of "Yes, Mom," and the obnoxious wink he shoots her.

The trio leaves after a quick round of goodbyes and John B waits until he hears the sound of his van driving away before finally emerging from under the pillow and rolling onto his back.

"Sensing the immediate danger has passed, the ostrich cautiously pulls its head out from the sand..." She says in her best David Attenborough impression, laughing when he tosses the pillow at her head with an amused grin.

"Ha ha. I was trying to avoid getting a Kie lecture," He explains, running both hands down his face with a heavy sigh. "It feels like my head's gonna explode."

"You and me both, dude." She carefully probes at her swollen cheek and is more than a little surprised to feel the beginnings of a scab forming near her eye. She knew Topper landed a solid punch but she didn't realize how solid that hit was until now as she catches sight of the tiny bit of drying blood left behind on her fingertips.

"That looks like it hurts. You okay?" John B asks and she looks up from wiping her hand clean on her shorts, stiff from dried saltwater, with a wrinkle of her freckled nose.

"I'm alright. How about you? No offense but your eye looks like shit."

"I'll live." He answers with a shrug as he pulls himself upright on the mattress and leans his head against the back of the couch. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

He sluggishly turns his head to look Sailor in the eye and shrugs again. "For trying to help me out. Sorry I got you punched."

She smirks and reaches over to give his hand a brief, friendly squeeze as she replies, "It's not your fault I got myself punched. I'm sorry your ass almost drowned."

He snorts at that and she's relieved to hear it, knowing that he can still joke around and he's not, like, completely traumatized or something. Poor guy's already got enough to deal with without adding a mental breakdown to the list. She swings her legs over the edge of the mattress and slowly stands before taking a tentative step forward; when her knees hold and she doesn't fall flat on her face, she makes her way to his side and holds both hands out to him with a small, lighthearted smile.

"Yeah, you're delirious. Near death experiences do that to you." She says, helping him to his feet and, after looping his arm over her shoulders and sliding hers around his waist, the two teenagers carefully shuffle down the hall in the dim light of the emergency lantern on the kitchen table to his room, where she unceremoniously dumps him onto his bed. "Sleep it off. And for the love of God, please change. You smell terrible."

She goes to leave as he laughs again, tugging his shirt off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes near the closet before saying, "Hey, Sailor?"

The redhead pauses with one foot in the hall and leans against the doorframe. "Yeah?"

"You know you're a badass, right?"

She laughs and sends him a wink but her heart is oh so light as she turns and heads to the spare room, calling back over her shoulder, "Nice to see someone acknowledge it. Now go to bed!"

The sound of the Chateau's front door opening and closing startles Sailor awake and she blinks heavily, wondering when exactly she'd fallen asleep. Last thing she remembers she was staring out at the fireflies through the open window as she steadily ran her hand down the length of Binx's back and their ethereal glow, combined with the breeze dancing around her shoulders, must've pulled her right under. Down the hall, she hears a loud thump, followed by JJ cursing as he runs into something and she giggles to herself, rolling onto her side to face the hall. He appears in the darkened doorway a minute later, rubbing his knee with a scowl on his face and she laughs louder at his quiet, venomous hiss of "fuck that fucking chair."

"Rude. It's not the chair's fault you always run into it." She teases and he shoots her a flat, unamused look before turning to glance down the hall toward John B's room, his fingers holding tight to the door frame.

"He's okay, you know. Told him to get some sleep." His head swings to face her when she speaks with soft words and even in the dark, she can see the way his tense shoulders slowly relax and his hand loosens, falling back to his side as he nods, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"And you?" He asks, his eyes never wavering from hers as he kicks his boots off and pulls his shirt over his head; the sight of his messy hair and the muscles in his arms make it a little hard for Sailor to breathe, the gentle wind she once thought of as cool now doing nothing to help calm her flushed skin when she scoots over in bed to give him room to lie down next to her. Binx looks as disgruntled as a cat can look as he loses his comfy spot and jumps down from the bed, only to immediately leap onto the windowsill and stretch out.

"What about me?"

JJ rolls over to face her, reaching one hand up to cup her injured face and runs his calloused thumb under the cut on her cheekbone. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, she shifts closer and lays her head on his outstretched arm, covering his hand with her own and effortlessly fitting her fingers into the spaces between his. "I'm fine. Even better, now."

He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Good, 'cause I don't know what I'd do if you weren't."

When those pesky butterflies come raging back with a vengeance, she realizes she's fighting a battle she hopes to lose.

The sound of a conversation in the kitchen, low voices drifting through the closed door of the guest room wakes Sailor early the next morning. Sunlight filters in through the windows and she squeezes one eye shut against the painful brightness, the other still squished into JJ's shoulder. His arm is a welcome weight slung over her hip and his deep, even breaths are soft against her forehead as he sleeps on, dead to the voices down the hall. With the corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile, she smooths his fine blond hair away from his face and runs her fingers along his jawline before carefully sliding out from under his arm and quietly heading toward the kitchen.

Pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, she rounds the corner and stops short when she catches sight of the person standing by the table, her cheerful 'good morning' getting stuck on her tongue; she was expecting Pope and Kiara, not the goddamn sheriff! Shooting John B a wide-eyed look that makes him shake his head (what the fuck did that even mean?!), the redhead forces a smile and hastily offers her a wave.

"Uh, good morning, Sheriff. Sorry to interrupt, just, uh, grabbing some water."

She just nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the brunet boy and Sailor breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. Holy shit, is that woman scary. She heads to the sink and keeps one ear on the conversation as she quickly fills a glass with water and pops two aspirin, the headache from last night made even worse by the addition of a whiskey hangover.

"I didn't realize you had company, John B. Wild night?" The sheriff asks and Sailor meets her friend's eyes again, her anxiety rising when she sees his thinly veiled panic. Her back to Peterkin, she silently implores him to say something, anything -hell, she even tries to subtly mime surfing with her hands to help him out- but he stays silent, so she gathers her courage, plasters a smile on her face, and twirls to face her.

"Busy day, actually. We went surfing all day after cleaning up the yard." She says, jerking her thumb toward the heap of broken branches piled by the fire pit visible through the living room window; when the sheriff turns to look, she quickly elbows John B in the side, ignoring his huff of surprise as she nods her head in her direction.

"Yeah, surfing! All day." He blurts out, sending Sailor a lukewarm glare when she quickly mouths 'what the fuck was that?' before they both straighten up and spin back to the older woman just as she turns to face them again.

"Right." Peterkin hums and arches one eyebrow as she glances back and forth between the two teenagers. "Now tell me, how'd you both get those bruises? They look pretty painful."

"Oh, this?" Sailor asks, pointing at her cheek with a casual shrug, "I tried to hang ten and bit it pretty hard. My board caught me right in the face."

Peterkin looks at her for a beat longer than normal and the redhead does her best to keep her expression neutral as her palms start to sweat. "Surfing, really? Thought you were pretty experienced in that department."

John B adds, offering some much needed back up, "Even the pros wipe out every once in awhile, you know?" He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. "My board got me good, too."

"Yeah, it just was not our day," She says with a nervous chuckle, refilling her water and slowly starting to back out of the kitchen, pretending she doesn't see the dismayed look her friend sends her way; her anxiety can't take another second of the sheriff's piercing gaze and she needs to get away fast, lest she start recounting every single second of their activities both legal and not so legal- from yesterday in explicit detail. "And I'm still pretty tired so I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit. Nice talking to you, Sheriff."

After disappearing around the corner before either of them can reply, she creeps down the hallway, keeping her footfalls as light as she can, and she's so focused on trying to listen in on what Peterkin's saying that she runs smack into JJ, standing in the doorway of the spare room. His arm instantly darts out to wrap around her waist and pull her close, keeping her from falling right on her butt as he says, "There you are-"

"Shhh!" Sailor hisses quietly, covering his mouth with her hand, "The damn sheriff is here!"

He mumbles something into her palm but she she holds a finger to her lips, pushing him back into the room and softly closing the door behind them before pressing her ear against it and dropping her hand from his face. He mirrors her position with a question clear as day in his wide eyes, 'what the fuck?', arm still looped around her lower back.

"She's grilling him about yesterday," She says simply, then turns her attention back to the faint voices floating through the door. The duo listens in silence, trying and failing to discern what's being said until they hear the sound of the sheriff's boots on the front porch and her squad car tires crunching through the gravel as she drives away and they exchange a worried look. JJ had it right: what the fuck, indeed.

"Holy shit, guys," John B's voice suddenly says from the hallway. The door opens before they have time to back away and it sends them sprawling to the floor in a twisted pile of limbs; the brunet boy -who'd usually find something like that hilarious- barely reacts to their position and sends them both a tense frown, his next words dropping like a damn anchor in the marsh.

"We need to go check out that Grady-White again, and fast."

Sailor groans and lets her head fall back onto the floor with a thunk. "Here we go."

let me know what you think! fun fact: ostriches actually do put their heads in the sand, but it's not because they sense danger. female ostriches bury their eggs to keep them safe from predators and they'll occasionally stick their head into the sand to check on them and give 'em a lil turn 😊

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @jiaraendgame @hmsjiara @maysbanks @alexa-playafricabytoto @sunflowerbecca @obxlife @obx-adventures @sexualparkour @coltonparayyko @miawantsapuppy

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reality-warp · 5 years

Text

A/N: So I finished Jedi: Fallen Order and sweet God it was way better and more emotional than I was prepared for. And then before I knew it my mind starting rolling out this idea before I could slam on the brakes. What else is new?

With work stress, difficult physiotherapy, and seasonal affective disorder all kicking my butt right now, theres no way in hell I’m going to have the time or enegry to turn this idea into an acctual polished fic. But after the idea refusing to leave me alone several weeks I decided I just needed to sit down and get the beginning out of my system.

Not my best work by a long shot, but it’s been so good to finally get writing again after a year of struggling.

Set post-game, this follows crew of the Mantis as they start their search for others who survived Order 66, and opens with the POV of one ex-Jedi Healers padawan (alien OC) hiding out in a hospital on Lothal...

Remedial Biomancy - Part 1/5 Auri

The first thing all padawans learned when they apprenticed as healers in the Jedi Temple was that your hands were always going to be the bloodiest.

Bloodier than any knights. Bloodier than any murderer. And if you chose the path of healing, you were going to be living up close and personal with suffering, pain, and not always be able to help. It was not a job for the faint of heart, or for the thin-skinned. But Auri Madraan doubted even Master Sayf, the man who’d taught her everything she knew about the horrors and wonders of being a Jedi Healer, would have been able to remain stoic in the face of all this.

Bodybags lined the room.

Dozens of them lined up in neat rows stretching from one end of the cold storeroom to the other. Twenty-six men. Fifteen women. Forty-one in total. She knew because it had been her job to count, scan and evaluate each one of them. She’d already finished the details of the last entry on her datapad, and now she just found herself staring into the cold room, struck hollow by the stark emptiness of it against her senses.

The absolute silence of life in a room so crowded.

“Medic Rinna,” The tinny voice of her droid assistant using her fake name broke through her daze, floating over from after making his final scan. “I believe that was the last one. Shall I transmit the results directly to Head Medic Jorran?”

Auri shook her head, both in reply and attempting to pull herself together, rubbing her tired eyes and tapping the save function on her datapad. She’d been awake for well over thirty-two hours and desperately needed to sleep. But this was something she always made herself do every time there was a death.

Master Sayf had always said one should never let lost life become something that felt normal…

“No, that’s ok PANN. I’ll deliver it myself,” she answered, her voice a bit crackly from hours of not speaking.

Her Prognosis Analytic Neural Network droid—more commonly referred to as PANN—bobbed in the air where he hovered, amber optical sensors flickering over her face. She could feel him resisting the urge to share how high her cortisol levels were, and that she would start to become dangerously inefficient if she stayed awake much longer. But even if she were already tucked up in her tiny room in the hospital staff quarters, she doubted she would have been able to shut her eyes for the thoughts and images burning through her mind.

There had been another tunnel collapse in the Lothal mines a day ago, and the men and women now lined up on the floor of the hospital basement were the only ones lucky enough to have been close to the entrance for their bodies to be dug out. The initial evaluations of the first-aiders and Auri’s reports both read suffocation and crush syndrome as the cause of death—no need for full autopsies or further investigation. That was what Head Medic Jorran had made clear what he expected to see, and consequences to anyone who thought otherwise.

But Auri knew differently.

She knew the truth of what had killed these people. She’d known the moment she’d touched a hand to the brow of one of the young men, the story of his broken body unfolding out before her like a story in black bruises and shattered bone.

They hadn’t died from lack of oxygen, they’d been killed when a toxin in the earth they’d been mining had been released as a gas. The Imperial mining operation running the dig had realised what had happened as their workers began dropping, and they had quickly collapsed one of the tunnels in an effort to both cover it up and stop the gas from escaping.

No one else knew. And if her Imperial loyalist boss had his way, no one else ever would.

Only her.

The thought made her want to be sick. She might have done just that were it not for the whooshing sound of the elevator doors opening just behind her, the sounds of footfalls on the metal floor.

“Hey Rinna, I hoped I’d find you down here—” Lyle, her co-worker and fellow junior medic broke off halfway through his sentence behind her, clearly noticing the contents of the room for the first time. She heard the air leave him in a single stunned rush, like someone had jabbed him in the solar plexus. “Maker, I’d heard it was bad, but this…”

Auri didn’t answer or turn to look at him.

Lyle was another recent emergency employee of the short-staffed Lothal capital hospital. He was human, blonde, good looking, and unfortunately just enough aware of it for it to be utterly confused by her disinterest. They’d been working the same shifts for the past two months, and Auri wasn’t sure why, but he had started developing what a charitable person would have called a fondness for her. An uncharitable person would have called it annoying. Her polite but repeated rejections only seemed to urge him on, and he always seemed to turn up when she most wanted to be alone…

This was definitely one of those times.

“You ok?” He asked her earnestly, coming up and placing a too-familiar hand on her shoulder, apparently completely unaware what a stupid question it was.

No, she wanted to say. To scream.

To yell that nothing about this was ok.

That she hadn’t been ok for the past five years.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied, clipping her datapad back onto her belt and turning past him towards the elevator. She refused to look back at him or the forty-one bodybags filled with people who would never have their truths heard.

Who would never get justice.

She stabbed the button for the top floor without waiting, and Lyle quickly dashed after her, slipping in just in time and almost getting his scrubs caught in the door. A significant part of her really wished they’d cut him off before he could get inside.

“Rinna,” he started, once again reaching to touch her shoulder, but clearly thought better of it this time when she shifted away. “You sure you’re alright? You covered a triple shift today, and you look kinda… well, paler than usual.”

Something halfway between a laugh and a snort escaped her before she could stop it.

Ex-Jedi padawan Auri Madraan was a haedrathi, an uncommon near-human species from the Haedra system whose only real biological difference to humans was that they’d evolved in underground caverns, which meant their bodies didn’t process vitamin D in the same way. The result was naturally pasty skin, snow-white hair, and eyes so sensitive to light that they had to be covered by protective black contact lenses near constantly to prevent blindness.

She was likely the palest being on this entire damned planet.

How this guy had managed to become a medic, she had to wonder sometimes…

“I’m fine, Lyle. Just tired. And doing autopsy scans of tunnel collapse victims isn’t high on my list of favourite things…” she trailed off into the silence of the elevator, the only noises breaking the tension the whooshing of the passing floors.

She sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes again. She had been working herself harder than normal, but focus and eventual exhaustion seemed to be the only way to keep her thoughts and nightmares at bay lately. It was clearly taking its toll on her temper—and for all his dogged determination to get her to swoon over him like the other nurses did, Lyle was only being kind.

“Sorry. Yes, I’m ok. Anyway, what are you doing down here? Didn’t you finish half an hour ago?” She asked more gently this time.

Lyle scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck as the elevator continued its rapid ascent, and even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel his gaze running over her.

“You’re going to deliver those reports in person, right? I thought I could keep you company on the way to Jorran’s office, if you like. Give you an excuse to get out of the quickly.” he offered, an almost painful note of hope in his voice. “Look, I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d like to spend more time together? Like, maybe… as a date?”

Auri only managed to restrain her sigh by virtue of the fact that at least he’d managed to wait until they were out of the room full of dead bodies before trying to officially ask her out. If he hadn’t, her training might have failed her entirely, and she’d have simply brained him with her datapad and left him down there.

She was saved from shooting him down by her droid rounding on her, a distinctly disapproving note in its metallic voice.

“Medic Rinna, I really must insist you engage in at least one REM sleep cycle as soon as possible. Your cortisol levels are impractically high, and—”

“Yes, thank you PANN,” she interrupted the fussing droid, cutting him off before he could launch into a full-blown lecture. “I’ll get some sleep as soon as I’ve delivered the reports. Why don’t you both go on to the dorms and get plugged in to charge for the night.”

“But—” PANN and Lyle started at the same time.

“I’ll be five minutes max. No need for an escort,” she cut them both off, deliberately not meeting Lyle gaze. The elevator came to a stop at their floor, the doors whooshed open and Auri quickly stepped out before either of them could try and stop her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lyle looked crestfallen, but PANN just grumbled, immediately floating away back towards the staff quarters at the other end of the building.

She’d tried tinkering with the little medical droids AI processor a few years ago before arriving on Lothal in an effort to improve his analytical speed, but it had somehow affected his personality algorithms too. Now instead of being a clinically detached medical encyclopaedia, he fussed when her stress levels got too high and chipped in with sarcastic commentary whenever she least needed it, and she had no idea how to fix it. It was like having a nagging metallic nursemaid following her around every day. She’d found herself cursing the fact that she’d never taken any programming courses back during her training; but metal, chips and circuit boards had never been her area of expertise…

Cal had always been way better with that stuff anyway.

The sound of his name, even inside her own head was enough to send a lance of pain through her chest. She buried it quickly before it could show on her face, forcing a small, weak smile into its place.

“Thanks for offering, Lyle. But I’d rather just get this done and go to bed. I’ll see you for the next shift,” she said over her shoulder.

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, failing to hide his disappointment as she strode off. “Night, Rinna.”

Auri started making her way towards the Head Medic’s office on the far side of the building, but instead of heading there directly, she turned down another hallway and made a detour towards the recovery wards.

There was someone more important she needed to see first…

Three minutes later she was swiping her ID card to enter the paediatric wing, the smallest but also most colourfully painted section of the hospital by far. The wards weren’t particularly big, only four beds to a room, and at this time of night, all the kids in them were fast asleep. The one Auri entered was at the end of the long, brightly painted hallway, and it was the only one with just a single kid curled up on his own inside.

“Rinna?” The boy mumbled, hearing the door sliding open as she entered, turning over to peer sleepily at her from under the blankets. It hadn’t been safe for Auri to use her real name in five years, but the smile the little boy gave her as he saw her was always just enough to ease the ache of missing it.

The kid coiled under the hospital blankets with bio-monitor patches all over his chest was human, small even for his years, with dark hair, coppery tanned skin, vivid blue eyes, and an infectious grin in the rare moments when he was feeling ok. His entire family had been living on Lothal since the days of the Republic, and the day he’d first come to the ward a week ago and met Auri, he’d excitedly told her that he loved haedrathi pop music, was a crack shot with a slingshot, and was going to be a pilot one day.

The name on the bed chart read: BRIDGER, EZRA.

“Hey little soldier,” she smiled at him, this time a genuine one, quietly shutting the door behind her. “I just came to check up on you before my shift ends. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Ezra lied, trying to sit up. “I don’t even think I’ll even need my meds tonight.”

Auri gave him a sceptical look, eyeing his shaky arms struggling to support him, and the low blood oxygen level reading on his bio-monitor.

It turned out the same toxins that had killed the workers in the mines had been leaking into the water supply a couple of weeks before, and Ezra had got a heaping dose before his parents realised what was wrong. Now it was wreaking havoc on his organs, the toxin fiendishly difficult to purge, especially for smaller children whose body mass was less than an adult. Ezra was barely six, short and skinny as a rail, and he was getting sicker by the day, even with the treatments and Auri’s regular help during their checkups.

Still, he was a fighter, and stubborn as a Loth-cat. Especially when it came to foul-tasting meds.

She placed a hand on one hip, trying not to smile.

“Oh really?”

Ezra scowled determinedly, but on his young round face, it was closer to a pout.

“Really!”

She raising a brow theatrically at him.

“Then I supposed you won't need this either?”

The kids face lit up as she pulled a little album stack out of her pocket and held it up—an innocent little palm-sized chip that stored sound data and could be plugged into any system or droid to play music. She’d managed to find one of the bands he’d mentioned while complaining how boring and quiet it was in the ward on his own, and she’d promised to bring it during her next visit.

She waved the album stack in front of him before setting it pointedly on the side table.

“Meds first, then music.”

Ezra pouted at her again, but dropped his little shoulders in defeat.

“Urgh, fine,” he grumbled.

Auri couldn’t help but smile sadly to herself as she opened the medication compartment on his bedside table, and began measuring out his prescribed dose of immune boosters. A nurse or med-droid would have been round later to give him his nightly meds, but they were so short-staffed at the moment that they likely wouldn’t have finally got to him until late at night. The kid was already struggling with his condition so much, she didn’t see any need to keep wake him once he finally managed to get some rest.

And she would have been lying if she said she hadn’t wanted to visit the one person in this hospital she actually enjoyed spending time with.

Once she’d double-checked the measurements, she pressed the little measuring cup into his hands and poured him a glass of water to wash it down with. Ezra took it without complaint but pulled a face as he gulped it down.

“Urgh! Why does it have to taste so bad?”

“That’s how you know it’s good for you,” she teased, setting the cup aside and handing the glass of water over. He took it gratefully as Auri pulled a pressure band out of the side table and wrapped it carefully around his skinny arm. “Just going to quickly check your blood pressure too, then you’re all done.”

In truth, she didn’t really need the band to check his blood pressure, but it gave the excuse she needed to get close enough to use her Biomancy.

She’d had the ability for as long as she could remember—a rare talent even among the Force sensitives that let her sense and read a persons life force through direct contact. It meant she’d effectively been able to tell when a person was healthy or sick since she was a child, and after years of training in the Jedi Houses of Healing she was now able to pinpoint and identify the cause of almost any pain or illness with a single touch.

Or in Ezra’s case, it allowed her to sense every part of his body that was struggling most against the poison in his system, and do what little she could during her checkup visits to help him. She’d added specific toxin absorbers into his daily meds to try and help take the pressure off his kidneys, used tiny amounts of Force biomanipulation to boost his white blood cell count, but to be honest there wasn’t an awful lot left she could do. Pretty soon the only thing she’d be able to do was numb his pain receptors so he could sleep comfortably. She hadn’t even been able to think about how she’d break the news to his parents that he was unlikely to ever fully recover…

Frustration and regret roiled deep in her chest as she read his bio-signs, seeing barely any improvement since she’d checked the day before. If only she could just do what she’d been trained for years by Master Sayf to do. To reach out with the Force and help heal the actual source of the problem, not just clumsily try to manage the symptoms. To be the healer she’d worked so hard to become since she’d first walked into the Jedi Temple at two years old.

But it was a different Galaxy now.

She’d only been on Lothal six months. If she cracked now, used her true power and took the risk of being found out, at best she’d have to flee. Start all over again.

At worst she’d be found by Purge Troopers and executed on the spot.

“Hey, Rinna,” Ezra asked abruptly, pulling her out of her morbid thoughts.

“Mmm?” She answered, pretending to check the pressure monitor before releasing the air and removing it from his arm. He pointed at a spot around her collarbone.

“What is that?”

For a second she didn’t know what he was looking at. Then she saw that he was pointing at the cord she wore around her throat. It must have crept up without her noticing, and was now barely peeking out over the neckline of her scrubs. She shrugged it back under the grey-green cloth a bit too quickly to be subtle.

“It’s nothing, little soldier. Nothing important.”

“I always see you wearing it, every time you visit,” he pressed, a tiny pout appearing again. “None of the other nurses or doctors ever wear any jewellery. How come you do?”

“Because this isn’t jewellery,” she answered automatically, then mentally kicked herself for it. Ezra just kept looking at her expectantly, and she knew instinctively he wasn’t going to let it go. So with a sigh, and against her better judgement, she pulled it out just enough for him to see the small jade green stone bound at the end. “It’s called a kyber crystal.”

Ezra’s vivid blue eyes went wide in wonder.

“Isn’t that what’d in Jedi lightsabers?” He breathed.

“They use to be. But not anymore,” she murmured, quickly tucking the cord back beneath her shirt. “It’s just a silly trinket. But one that you have to keep a real secret, ok? I’m not supposed to have it, and I’ll get in a lot of trouble if you tell anyone.”

He gave her a solemn look and a slow nod, his dark hair flopping adorably.

“I won’t tell.”

“Swear?”

He drew an X over his chest.

“Swear.”

Auri tried to regard him seriously but eventually smiled, unable to stop herself. He was a starry-eyed kid, but he was also the most honest and genuine person in this place.

“Good. Now let’s get you tucked in. Your folks will be in to visit tomorrow morning and you don’t want to sleep through it.”

He nodded, coughing a little as he pulled the covers up to his chin again, peeking out and giving her and the album stack on the side table another hopeful look.

“Can you put the music on?”

Auri rolled her eyes with a smile, but nodded, bopping him lightly on the nose with the stack.

“Ok, but only on the lowest volume.”

She got up from the cot and started plugging the stack into the small radio near the door. Ezra coughed again, a bit harder this time. And then a strange noise came from him; a kind of gasping wheeze that quickly became a throaty cough, like he was struggling to catch his breath. Auri turned instinctively, feeling the pull of something wrong through her senses, only to see the colour had suddenly drained almost from Ezra’s round cheeks, leaving him a sickly grey colour.

“Ezra? What’s wrong?” She asked, dread creeping into her chest.

“R-Rinna…” he mumbled, sitting up and swaying dangerously on his cot, “I d-don’t feel good…”

He slumped sideways, almost falling out of the bed entirely. Auri shot across the room and caught him by the shoulders just in time. She tried to sit him up again, but he’d gone almost entirely limp, eyes rolling back in his head.

“Ezra? Ezra!"

He didn’t respond. Only continued to wheeze out breaths that were far more laboured than they should be.

Not wasting a second Auri rolled up his sleeve and touched her entire hand to his upper arm. That one solid point of contact brought a fresh flood of sensations, and she instantly understood, the breath slipping out of her in horror.

“Oh no…”

She could feel the frantic flutter of his pulse through her senses like a hummingbirds wings. Feel the pain of his insides and every laboured breath as if it were her own. The toxin had finally found its way into his heart, and the shock of it was causing the organ to beat wildly out of control.

Not wasting a breath, she yanked back the sheet and laid him out flat on the cot, tilting his head back to open his airway. He was so small it barely took even her any effort to lift him, his little form not even taking up half the space on the cot.

“Keep fighting hard as you can, little soldier,” she whispered, pulling out a syringe and a vial of cardiac stabiliser from the nearby emergency cart. She didn’t realise her hands were trembling until it took her three tries to get it filled correctly.

If this didn’t work…

She returned to his side, sliding the needle into his bicep and depressed the plunger, keeping a hand firmly on his arm and letting her Biomancy monitor his response better than any of the equipment around her could.

But…

“No, no come on, please…” she cursed under her breath, dread beginning to turn to panic.

It wasn’t working. She’d managed to slow his pulse and calm his adrenaline with the stabilising drugs, but it wasn’t enough. His heart was still beating out of rhythm and getting quickly worse. If that poison stayed in his body any longer she knew it was going to destroy his heart beyond any hope of repair…

The sight of those bodybags filling the room downstairs invaded her mind again. The image of one more of them, slightly smaller than the others—

No.

The thought rang through her head with the long dead voice of her master, and the panic in her chest stilled into sudden, familiar calm as she looked down at Ezra again. This time with all the years of lessons and practice she’d gone through to get here rushing in to fill the void.

To heal a hurt, you must first understand the hurt, padawan.

To ease the pain, you must know that pain.

She could still feel the poison lingering in him through her senses, could feel the damage it was doing through the contact. She also knew it wasn’t going to be enough to just remove some of it. Every last drop he’d managed to accumulate by drinking that contaminated water had to be pulled out if she was going to save him now.

So, taking one of his small, tanned hands in her considerably paler ones, Auri reached a hand out to hover over his chest, stretching out with the Force. It was like flexing an aching muscle that had long gone unused, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to do it.

But then, her thoughts brushed up against a cluster of something cold and foreign. Something that wasn’t supposed to be there—a knot of wrongness caught up in the complex weave of life that made up all of Ezra.

She reached out further, and her mind stumbled over another. And another. And then another. Feeling the pressure building in her own head with the concentration, she forced herself to focus harder, latching her will onto all those knots of wrongness until she could feel every molecule of the poison scraping against her thoughts—a million pinpoints on a map laid out in the shape of the boy before her.

Then, as gentle as she could, Auri began to pull on all those pinpoints of wrongness.

If anyone had been watching, it might have looked at first like the young haedrathi medic was simply praying over the kid, one hand holding his while the other hovered over his chest. But then, ever so slowly, what looked like tiny beads of pale orange sweat began to appear all over the boy’s clammy skin. At first they were almost unnoticeable, but quickly they grew, forming together into bigger drops that began to slowly rise off him entirely, floating in dozens of perfect spheres up into the air.

She didn’t stop until all of those droplets had risen off Ezra’s clammy skin, and only when every last bit had left him did she shift her hand slightly, condensing them all into a single floating sphere the size of a large marble in the air.

Her head beginning to ache with the strain, Auri automatically reached a hand towards the side cart at the edge of the room, and a test tube flew into her grip as if pulled by a magnet. Sweat began to bead on her own brow as she guided the floating ball of poison into the glass before finally releasing her focus. The pale orange liquid fell straight into the container as if someone had finally turned the gravity back on, and Auri felt her hands trembling as she quickly stoppered it.

Her perception of the rest of the room flooded back in as she pulled in a few steadying breaths, if someone had turned the volume back on for the rest of the world…

Only then did she hear a noise come from directly behind her.

Auri whirled to face it, her head spinning and heart pounding as she automatically shoved the test-tube full of poison into her back pocket. Lyle was stood in the open doorway to the ward, a confused look on his face. For a horrible moment, she thought he’d seen everything, his gaze flickering in bewilderment between her, the boy on the cot, and the empty syringe of cardiac stabilisers on the side table. But the look softened to worry as he saw the expression on her face.

“Rinna, what happened? Is he ok?”

She was saved from trying to flat out lying when Ezra groaned. She turned back to him to see the boy’s vivid blue eyes flickering open as he began to regain consciousness.

“R-Rinna?” He rasped, and she immediately knelt next to him, gently stroking his messy hair back from his face.

“It’s ok. You’re ok, little soldier. You just had a bad spell,” she assured, calmly as she could despite her own racing heartbeat. He coughed a bit and she helped him take a few more gulps of water before gently laying him back down on the pillows. “Try to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise.”

He was out barely ten seconds later, the exhaustion of having the poison forcibly purged from his body taking its toll.

But at least now he would live.

Auri covered him in an extra blanket from one of the other beds, and set the bio-monitoring system to alert her if there was any change to his vitals. Then, once she was sure he was as comfortable and safe as she could possibly leave him, she turned back to face a concerned-looking Lyle. He was gazing at her like he was desperate to somehow comfort her, but had no idea what to do or say to help.

“What happened?” He asked quietly the moment they were both outside.

“His heart, it started going tachy right after I gave him his meds. I barely got the stabilisers into him in time…”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but she still hated the taste of it on her tongue. Lyle glanced down at her still trembling hands, and once again she could see him barely resisted the urge to try and take hold of one.

“You’ve done everything you can,” he told her, not realising the truth of those words. “But you really should sleep now too, Rinna.”

She nodded, glancing back at the door to Ezra’s room once more before turning back to Lyle.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she said quietly. He looked at her in confusion, and she gave an anaemic smile that she couldn’t quite make reach her eyes. “Would you mind walking me to Jorran’s office after all?”

It took him a second to process what she’d said, but once he did he nodded vigorously.

“S-sure! Yeah, of course.”

Auri followed her colleague down the hallway, falling into an exhausted step beside him. But not before quietly pulling the test tube of poison out of her back pocket and dropping it quietly into a nearby biohazard bin.

Much as she hated to admit it, PANN and Lyle were both right—she really did need all the sleep she could get tonight.

Tomorrow she was going to have to start planning her escape from Lothal.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

#mine #my writing #swjfo #star wars #star wars fic #auri madraan #star wars oc #ex-jedi padawan #jedi healer #5 part mini fic #My characters #alien oc #alien character #original alien race #young ezra bridger #finished Fallen Order for the third time #and now i need to get this idea out of my system #just for fun

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