#[because you’re fucking 26 and that’s troubling you more and more as time passes]

[propertyoftoru]

Tag game: Get to know me!

Thank you @abiaswreck for the tag! :] 🖤

1. Birthday?

8/11 (me and binnie are birthday twins)

2. Favorite color?

I'll say black but i dont really have a favorite!

3. How tall are you?

5’5 (and 3/4 thank you very much)

4. How many pair of shoes to you own?

somewhere around 14 idk i gave up on counting

5. Favorite song?

for skz probably ssick or easy but not skz probably ohio is for lovers by hawthorne heights

6. Favorite movie?

oh probably either the scream movies or unironically the twilight movies (theyre my childhood comfort movies)

7. Who would be your ideal partner?

Someone who makes me laugh and takes the time to understand me.

8. Do you want children?

I've said no for a really long time but i think if i met the right person and the circumstances were ideal then maybe.

9. Have you gotten in trouble with the law?

Not really other than a few times of being a stupid teenager nothing serious though. Watching my parents screw up a lot when i was young probably had a lot to do with that.

10. What color socks are you wearing?

oh god i hate socks so much. i only wear them when i have to and not a second longer.

11. Favorite type of music?

this is such a cliché but i really do listen to everything. edm, pop, pop punk, metal, sad songs, happy songs, hell on occasion even a tiny bit of country (only carrie underwood lets not get carried away)

12. How many pillows do you sleep with?

2! One horizontal and one vertical. Kinda like a half body pillow i guess? idk i have to be hugging something to fall asleep.

13. What position do you sleep in?

im a diagnosed insomniac so really whatever position my body finally passes out in... there's a lot of tossing and turning most nights.

14. What don’t you like when you’re sleeping?

Bright lights (a tv or any sort of light on an appliance) or dead silence i need a fan or rain or SOMETHING.

15. Have you tried archery?

Yeah actually my grandfather used to take me hunting when i was younger. I never actually killed anything but i got pretty good at hitting cans and targets :]

16. Favorite fruit?

ohhhhh either strawberries or blackberries or pineapple... idk i love fruit so much.

17. Are you a good liar?

I can be when I have to be. I hate lying though it always brings drama and negative energy.

18. What’s your personality type?

INFP-T

19. Innie or outie?

Innie

20. Left or right handed?

Both! but I mostly use my right!

21. Favorite food?

Pineapple pizza (fight me Christopher Bang)

22. Favorite foreign food?

Oh my grandmother makes Jag on special occasions and its one of my favorites. Other than that as of recently ive been eating japchae so much i literally have a craving for it like every other day.

23. Are you clean or messy?

sigh. my room? depression disaster area. Everything else in my life? Severe OCD neat freak (im talking labels, sorted by color and size, the whole nine yards)

24. Most used phrase?

buh. it really has no meaning its just a sound i make about 200 times a day. i also swear like a sailor so if not buh then probably cunt or fuck.

25. How long does it take you to get ready?

Depends on where im going and whos gonna be there. anywhere from 10 minutes to 45 minutes.

26. Do you talk to yourself?

Of course, im the funniest and smartest person i know. (on a real note my hyperactive imagination goes crazy so i spend most days rambling to myself about nonsense.)

27. Do you sing to yourself?

All day everyday like im in a fucking musical or something.

28. Are you a good singer?

Eh. ive been told i am but i think i could be decent if i took lessons.

29. Biggest fear?

Sharks/The ocean (its more a fear of the unknown because what the fuck even lives down there)

30. Are you a gossip?

Absolutely not. I learned my lesson in middle/high school that shit brings nothing but bad vibes and negative energy.

31. Long or short hair?

I wish i could say short because my hair drives me crazy most days but i also hate how i look with short hair so long i suppose.

32. Favorite school subject?

English or Criminal Justice/Forensics

33. Extrovert or introvert?

introvert but situational extrovert (ill be extroverted if theres someone more introverted than me solely because i cannot stand awkward tension) not quite an ambivert but somewhere close to one.

34. What make you nervous?

Groups of super outgoing people. I always get too afraid to talk in fear of ruining the flow of conversation or being talked over.

35. Who was your first crush?

idk probably justin bieber or nick jonas

36. How many piercings do you have?

4. Both of my ears and both of my nipples. i want to get my bellybutton done soon though.

37. How many tattoos do you have?

9 but im hoping to work on my leg sleeve again soon.

38. How fast can you run?

Depends on whos chasing me.

39. What color is your hair?

Brown right now. It was half black half blonde but i wanted to focus on getting my hair healthy for a while.

40. What color are your eyes?

Blue/Green/Gray depends on who you ask and the lighting in the room.

41. What makes you angry?

Not much im a pretty calm person but when im playing video games thats a different story.

42. Do you like your name?

No. My father chose it and i dont speak to him.

43. Do you want a boy to girl as a child?

IF i had a kid i would want a boy 100%. As someone whos mother had 3 babies when i was 16/17/18 i can confidently say little girls are the spawns of the devil and little boys are rays of sunshine.

44. What are your strengths?

Mental fortitude and my empathy for others.

45. What are your weaknesses?

I give second (and third and fourth) chances to people that do not deserve it.

46. What’s the color of your bedspread?

Light gray but i keep lots and lots of blankets around too.

47. What’s the color of your room?

Gray and dark blue.

Tagging for fun! Ignore if you don’t want it do it! Or ignore if you don’t feel comfortable!: @bbyquokka @lino-ppang @alphadisaster @aspenwritesstuff +anyone that wants to do this.

[ryik-the-writer]

CHAPTER 31: Alone

A03

      Chapter 1: Pan meets a Wendy

·         Chapter 2: Scars (Felix’s Story)

·         Chapter 3: Day One

·         Chapter 4: Revenge and Fireflies

·         Chapter 5: Brighter than Stars

·         Chapter 6: filler: The Tigress

·         Chapter 7: Operation Spotless!

·         Chapter 8: Operation Spotless: Reporters Down

·         Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil

·         Chapter 10: filler: Felix and the Pancake

·         Chapter 11: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 1

·         Chapter 12: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 2

·         Chapter 13: The Girl With Blue Eyes: Underground

·         Chapter 14. Recovery

·         Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more

·         Chapter 15: Trapped

    Chapter 16: Filth

    Chapter 17: Fairydust pt. 1

    Chapter 18: Fairydust pt. 2

    Chapter 19: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 3

    Chapter 20: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 2

    Chapter 21: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 3

    Chapter 22: Reflections pt. 1

    Chapter 23: Reflections pt. 2

    Chapter 24: Closing

    Chapter 25: Felix is helping Pan

    Chapter 26: Temporary Fix

    Chapter 27: The Search Begins

     Chapter 28: The Missing Pan

     Chapter 29: Instincts

     Chapter 30: Temperance

    Chapter 30.5: Circuits

------

Life's weird, you know? I'm 26 years old and I'm essentially trying to start over.

I've quit my most recent job – and possible career—as a journalist. It was from a combination of exhaustion and a disagreement with management, but the job was leaving me no time or energy to pursue my personal writing. I've been very depressed the past few years and am making some adjustments in my life to try to ease it. I don't know what's happening next, but I want to be me again, and that may take a while. But, in the meantime, I think the best place to start is here.

P.S. I've been working on this chapter since February. It's good to finally get it out.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"We're almost there, okay?" Graham said to the shaking girl beside him, keeping his eyes on the road. If he looked at her, he'd go back to the docks and tear that damned ship apart with his own hands. He'd prefer its owner.

Wendy didn't respond, her bloodshot eyes trained on the passing town, the icy window cooling her burnt cheek.

She was so drained following her confrontation with Jones, but she was angrier at herself than anything else.

She let him go. She let him go and she didn't know why.

He was right there in front of her and she had distracted him long enough that if she had sent the call to Graham he would have been there in moments, gun drawn and handcuffs awaiting Pan's kidnapper.

But she let him go!

"Stupid, fucking stupid!" Wendy husked, fresh tears starting to flow.

"No you're not," Graham soothed.

"I let him go I let him go…" Wendy yelled before breaking down all over again.

Graham gripped the steering wheel hard, trying desperately to contain his firm composure.

Wendy was in trouble and he had no choice but to bring her into custody. As the sheriff, it was his duty, as the man who'd gotten to know her, who'd helped as many times that he had, he was devastated for her.

His fingers twisted into the rough leather, years of police work helping him ease into an impassive state so that her cries wouldn't affect him.

Almost.

He turned down the road to get her to the hospital. He'd have to have Whale look her over for legality sake, but then it'd be off to the station.

He was half-hoping Jones had threatened her, forcibly coerced her into letting him go. At least then she'd be innocent on that level.

After all…Jones did have valuable information on her…

Before he could muse on that subject any further, they arrived at the hospital, and Graham decided to let the matter rest for now. He had a lot of calls to make and Wendy couldn't do much more harm in a secure hospital room.

They sat in the car a moment longer, each musing on their own thoughts.

Wendy had let go of a madman and she couldn't pinpoint why. If it had been de Vil or Jekyll they'd be in a jail cell by now, but why not Jones?

Because she was too close, she realized, and she still hadn't accepted that he had used her. That he lied to her face while Pan was dying just under her feet.

But he was going to let her go! Hell, he'd promised her twice.

And in the end he had…

"I can't kill you, Wendy, you've grown on me too much."

Wendy leaned her head back into the leather seat, groaning. Maybe he did have some shred of humility, fine, but he was still a kidnapper and most likely a murderer.

She'd messed up, Gods had she.

The shrill of a cellphone caused them both to bolt, Graham grabbing the device in his cup holder to silence it.

"Damn it," he cursed when he saw the number, shooting a look to Wendy. "Stay here."

His voice more cold than he'd wanted it to be. But he had to harden his heart now.

Back at the car, Wendy watched the exchange between Graham and whoever was on the other line blankly, her latest outburst having drained her.

The sheriff looked tense and his eyes would cut to her momentarily. Finally he ended the call and made a quick line to her door.

"Let's go," he sighed.

"Where—"

"Back to your room for now," Graham responded, not meeting her eyes.

Wendy allowed him to lead her back to the hospital.

A cold gust of air hit them when they entered the lobby, the very place Wendy had snuck from not even an hour before.

She glanced at the chairs Felix, Tink and August had been in and found them to be empty, but more yelling caused her to turn to the circulatory desk.

"We just want to make sure they're alright!" Tink yelled at the nurse.

"And I've told you unless you're family—"

"We are family!" Tink shot back.

"Enough!" Graham yelled, all but shoving Wendy into the open elevator. "Visiting hours are over. I want you all to go home and I don't want to see you again tonight or so help me I will throw you all in a cell!"

The trio stiffened. Graham had never been this firm before, this…angry.

Tink's eyes met Wendy's. There were so many things they knew they wanted to say, and Wendy was desperate for some kind of comfort.

"I'll bring you some things," Tink said with an uneasy smile.

"Bring them to the station," Graham muttered as he closed the elevator, leaving the trio and Wendy stunned.

The sheriff said nothing to his charge as they traveled to their destination. Wendy knew she was in dire trouble, but she couldn't muster enough fear to truly care. Her mind was too otherwise occupied.

They made to their floor and Wendy stepped out without instruction.

"Just get cleaned up and stay put," he sighed as he opened the door, pausing when he saw that the other occupant was wide awake…

And going through the file he'd left behind.

Wendy gasped at the site of Pan sitting upright in his bed. Just an hour ago she hadn't even been sure he'd ever open his eyes again.

But his eyes were wildly searching through the contents of the file, tearing at the pages with strength he shouldn't have.

"Pan…"

His eyebrows were drawn down in a way that made him confused. He blinked once and finally looked up at her and his expression was utterly unreadable.

That is until he turned to Graham and fire arose in his eyes.

"Is he locked up? Have you told her?" His voice was a bare croak..

Graham came around her and snatched the file from Pan's hands, papers flying about the room.

"You are always…" Graham began with a growl, stopping as his nails tore into the papers in his fingers.

Pan looked between them and at the paper that had flown on the floor. Jekyll's blank face was staring up at her and it was making her nauseous.

But there was something else.

"Have. You. Told. Her!" Pan yelled, his voice breaking from exhaustion.

Graham kept his jaw clenched, is eyes cutting to another series of photos that his officers and pulled from Jones's ship.

Wendy followed his gaze and met the sheriff's, who seemed to beg her not to move, not to think about the situation going on around her.

But she was shaking at this point, terrified and so very confused.

She darted to the photos Graham was staring at, feeling the ghost of his hand grasp at her to stop her, but to no avail.

"Wendy wait—"

But she had one photo turned over, and her blood ran cold.

The faces staring back at her were friendly. Their authentic smile should have comforted her.

But instead they filled her with the most gut-wrenching horror she'd felt to date.

They were the smiles of her parents, her dear mother who never had an unkind word for anyone. Who braved cancer so that her only daughter could seek her own adventure without guilt or burden. Her firm father, who wasn't unkind, but had no patience to try to understand his daughter. Wendy wanted to fix that one day. Her brothers, so young, still coming into their own.

And her. At least, Wendy thought it was. She could barely recognize the girl in the photo, bright eyes and unscarred skin.

It was a picture that, to her knowledge, only existed on her hallway table in her apartment and her parents' mantle at home.

Why was it in one of the boxes that had been on Jones' ship?

"Miss Darling?"

Wendy blinked, the motion slow. The act of lifting her head to look at the Sherriff's face was nearly impossible to do. Her life had been sucked from every cell in her body.

What had she done?

"Miss Darling," Graham repeated. He sounded so far away. Wendy could almost believe he wasn't in the room.

In the distance, a deep grunted cough. And then another until the sound was a constant, frightening hum.

Graham vanished from her view in a flash and she heard his voice burst.

"Pan! Nurse, get in here!"

Wendy found the strength to turn her head.

Pan was bouncing up and down on the bed, mouth agaped, gasping for air that wouldn't come.

"Whale!" Graham screamed as he tried to stabilize Pan.

A broken sound left her throat. Not Pan. Not now.

"Don't …" she croaked, collapsing miserably as struggled to lift herself to her knees.

Don't go.

"Get her—"

What had she done?

"Away!"

Then…

Shifting.

She couldn't see Pan any more. She'd been pulled into a separate part of the room, a thick curtain drawn to obscure him from her view.

But the noise was all too clear.

"P—P—"

"Get Whale in here now!"

Wendy's voice cracked and she has to use both hands to block out her sobbing.

What had she done?

A shift.

Like waves.

The light had changed both inside and outside the room. It must be night now.

On a ship.

Wendy sat up from her hard hospital bed, the curtain drawn around her making her feel more closed in. Suffocated.

The only relief was the thing line separating the curtain from the wall, giving her the barest glimpse of the rest of the room.

The sounds of the hospital's machines lulled her into an outward sense of calm. On the inside however, her blood was crawling.

Hours seemed to pass as she watched the minimum activity occur from that slit. Nurses checking Pan's vitals, checking his monitor. He didn't move once.

"He almost died," once nurse whispered.

"Him?" the other gasped, looking hurriedly back and forth between the comatose boy and her workmate. "Unbelievable! Of all the times he's been in this hospital…"

They blessedly left her alone.

Even if they had looked in to check on her, she wouldn't have been able to reply or cooperate. The shock of the last day had left her numb, incapable of feeling anything but the weight of her mistakes.

It was heavier each time she saw the tense rise and fall of Pan's chest as oxygen was manually pumped into his body by machines. In the way the tube down his throat shook on occasion.

This was the stillest she'd ever seen the wild boy. It was unnerving, like a lucid nightmare.

"Please, open your eyes."

Heal this scar on my heart.

His silence did allow her to think, however.

Her family was in some kind of apparent danger. Why would Jones have a photo of them? What had she or Pan done to make them targets?

She wondered if Graham had notified them or at least the authorities in London. Were they safe? Were they—

No. She couldn't think that. If Jones let her live, certainly he'd exchange the same curtesy to her parents and two underage boys, right?

Wendy slowly sat up, letting blood flow more evenly to her as she urged adrenaline to return. She couldn't just lie here. She couldn't risk her family not knowing they could be in danger.

She eased her legs off the side of the bed carefully, both for balance sake and caution. The nurses would very well tie her to the bed if they saw her walking around. And she had the suspicion that Graham was ready to throw her in a jail cell for the trouble she'd caused.

She was formulating a half-hazard plan in her groggy mind, and it would take someone more diabolical than she to help her optimize it.

She had to get to her family.

Her bag and clothes were laid out neatly on the counter between her and Pan's bed. She grabbed her bag and hugged it to her chest as she slid down to the foot of her bed, trying to stay out of sight from the roaming nurses outside. She breathed in relief as she found her cellphone. 20%. That was enough to make the call she needed.

She hands shook as she dialed the appropriate numbers to make a long-distance call to London and waited to hear her mother's gentle greeting or even her father's more gruff one.

A click.

"Mother?"

We're sorry, we cannot connect this call. Your service is out of bound. Hang up and –

"Damn it!" Wendy shouted, gaining just enough composure to quiet down before a nurse showed up.

Her mind raced like the wind during a sea storm, all her ideas scattered like the remains of a wrecked ship.

Then suddenly, a glimpse of clarity. The eye of the storm.

The eye of the devil himself.

Wendy readied her cell phone to make another call.

No, not to Tink or Felix, or even Lily or August. Too risky. They needed to be here for Pan.

No, she needed someone darker, someone who didn't have anyone else to lose.

She grimaced when she felt the crumpled up business card at the bottom of her bag. For a split second, she hoped it wasn't the one she was looking for, but of course it was.

She gripped it tightly in her clasped hands, hesitatingly heavily. She glanced at Pan's unconscious form, wishing desperately that he would open his eyes and talk her out of what she was about to do. Yell at her. Call her names. Anything.

But he was comatose because of her. She had no right to hurt him anymore.

She took a deep breath and checked once more that there wasn't a nurse coming dialed in the number on the card, hoping they wouldn't answer. It was late after all. Well past business hours—

"Gold's Pawnshop."

Wendy closed her eyes, feeling a nauseous sense of regret hit her.

"Hello?" The voice on the other line inquired more aggressively.

"M-Mr. Gold," Wendy finally spoke just when she thought he would hung up. "It's…It's Wendy Darling."

The pause that followed sounded like the silence after a car crash, when a survivor was still trying to determine if they had survived or not.

When Wendy heard the haunting chuckle that followed her greeting, she was more than certain that at one point in the last few days she must have died.

She was entering the lowest level of hell.

"Miss Darling," Gold spoke. Wendy could picture the large grin spreading over his sharp face. "What can I do for you?"

Wendy fussed with the card in her hand, the silky cardstock a scalding coal in palm.

"I need your assistance getting out of Storybrooke, preferably in the next hour,"

"Does the Mirror not pay you vacation time, Miss Darling?"

Wendy clenched her teeth. "Please, stop."

She hadn't meant the words to come out as a choked sob, but the stress from the last few days were weighing her down fast and she no longer had the ability to hold up her control.

Gold seemed to sense her distress and cut to the chase.

"What's happened?"

"I…I…I can't…" Wendy slipped down the wall, clutching the phone for dear life. "It's complicated, but I got involved with someone who has put everyone I care about in danger."

"Is this about Pan's disappearance?" Gold questioned evenly, even the barest hint of concern absent from his voice.

Wendy decided not to focus on that, knew she'd say something that would end their conversation abruptly is she did.

"It's more about the person who caused his disappearance, partially I mean," she tugged on the edges of her hair nervously. "Bottom line, he's done with Pan and Storybrooke, I think, but my family in London might be next on his list."

Gold remained quiet as Wendy summed up the details from the last few hours, not pressing for any unnecessary details.

"I know it's asking for a lot very quickly, but …" Wendy allowed herself to trail off, not having the strength or the mentality to press on. He knew what she needed, he didn't need the sob story.

"It's quite the request indeed," he commented. Wendy could heard the wickedness rise once more in his voice. "But I accept, but I need something from you first."

"I have every intention of paying you back."

"Not's hardly a concern of mine, Miss Darling," he said. "What I need from you is something a bit more personal."

Wendy gripped the phone tightly. Wendy hadn't thought she'd underestimated him this entire time. She'd seen the darkness in his eyes, saw it in his cold, calculating smile.

She thought briefly of Belle, recalled the gentle way she heard him speak to her at the hospital. Had that been a farce, or had he simply pulled down his mask long enough to appear human. At the time of the young woman's rescue, Wendy wondered if perhaps Gold would recall Wendy's part in saving her and call them even.

"What is it?" she asked, accepting her fate.

He was quite for a moment, but the words he spoke next chilled her.

"I need you to tell me how much you need my help,"

Wendy blinked, generally unsure just what he meant.

"Pardon?"

His cold chuckle followed.

"I know how to recognize a desperate soul, and you are by far the most desperate one I've met to date."

Wendy shook her head, unable to fully comprehend what he was asking of her.

"What…I…I…"

"And I want you ask yourself why that is," he continued.

Those final words hit her like a bucket of ice. Every faux decision she'd made in the last few weeks.

She hadn't meant to hurt anyone. Hadn't ever wanted to. It just happened, and she inadvertently isolated herself from anyone who cared for her.

She looked at Pan's unconscious form once more. It was easy to blame him. He'd twisted every decent thing she'd tried to accomplish. He burned everything he touched.

But she'd made her own choices. She chose to allow him in her life and kept him too close. He'd gotten hurt in the process.

In a way, he would have been better off if she had cut him out.

"This is my price, Miss Darling," he said. "You may take it, or we can part, and we'll speak nothing more of this conversation.

"Fine. I need your help. I…I really need your help."

"Because?"

A hot tear ran down her cheek. It felt like the barest of defeat.

"I'm…"

All.

Alone.

"I'm desperate."

She heard the lightest hum as his response. It was almost a gluttonal sound. She wasn't sure how she would have reacted if she'd heard him laugh.

"Very good, Miss Darling," he said at last. Wendy managed to keep her chin from wobbling.

"Now, I need you to follow my next instructions very carefully. Are you able to leave the hospital?"

Wendy straightened up. Her family. She had to leave.

"I can try, but there's nurses everywhere. I think Sheriff Graham has me on some kind of unspoken lockdown."

Gold hummed once more, this one more calculating than gratified.

"I'll handle him. Now Miss Darling, I want you to dress and gather what you have with you and be ready to leave. When I hang up, I need you to wait exactly 15 minutes. Exactly that, do you understand?"

"Yes." Wendy replied half-heartedly.

"Good. When you're 15 minutes start, you'll make your way down the hospital stairs. Under no circumstances are you to go near the elevators."

"Cameras." Wendy concluded.

"Very good," he praised, though the comment had the weight of an insult.

"Then, when you come out on the first floor, you're going to take a left until you get to the west wing, the one adjacent to the children's ward, do you recall?"

Wendy felt her entire body tense.

The darkness. The smell of mold. Belle's wile, blue eyes.

That horrid man's hands around her neck.

"No." she said definitively. "I can't go through there. I won't."

"Yes you will." Gold said firmly.

"There's another way, there has to be," Wendy pled. How was it that she'd been in this hospital so many damn times but hadn't learned the exit routes?

"Just maybe there is, but do you really want to waste time exploring those options?"

Wendy seethed. "You're doing this on purpose. You're sick!"

She was greeted with a humorless chuckle. "I'm many things, Miss Darling, but right now I'm the one person in the world who could help you."

That's not so, Wendy wanted to say, but she dared not bring Felix or Tink or even August into this. This man seemed to gain power over anyone who gave him their name.

"Then what?" She croaked.

Why are you doing this? I helped you.

"You'll vacate the ward and you'll continue along the wall of the west wing until you come across an overgrown parking lot about a quarter of mile past the hospital. There's an overgrown courtyard you must go through. A man by the name of Mr. Dove will be there waiting for you with a car. You'll go with him and he'll escort you to Boston. By the time you reach there, a one-way ticket should be awaiting you."

The term 'one-way' perked Wendy's attention. Did he think she made no plans to return? Did she at this point?

"Is all that agreeable?"

Wendy hesitated. What was waiting for her if she returned? Scorned friends who were better off without her? An unstable job she was more than certain she was fired from at this point? A jail sentence?

She glanced at Pan, unconscious and oddly peaceful-looking.

"Yes," Wendy answered. "I'll meet him there."

"Very good," Gold said. "Fifteen minutes, Miss Darling."

"Yes." Wendy agreed, ready to hang up.

"Oh, and Miss Darling?"

Wendy flinched, begrudgingly lifting the phone to her ear.

"Yes?"

"Such a pleasure hearing from you again."

He hung up before she could respond, leaving her in blessedly silent quiet.

She sat there for a moment more, trying to decide exactly what consequences she'd see for making a deal with a shark like Mr. Gold. It couldn't be any worse than the rawness in her soul.

She wiped her face. She couldn't think about that now, couldn't focus on anything but getting to her family.

Fifteen minutes. Exactly fifteen minutes.

She began to move, gathering what little she had with her and changing, her stomach lurching at every sound. She eyed the door as she finished, hearing the distance taps of nurses shoes go back and forth.

She silenced her phone, ready to leave, but the site of Pan's still form from the corner of her eye caused her to pause.

She lowered her head in a sense of shame, each beep of his heart monitor stabbing at her.

He didn't respond when she stood over him, her hand's hovering above his form, unsure of where to go.

Ten minutes.

Wasn't there evidence that comatose patience could sense the outward world? Hear, smell and even imagine everything around them?

Looking at him, Wendy had to doubt that theory. He was so still. So unlike the every-moving wild boy who brought so much chaos in and out of her life.

Wendy grazed her fingers over his hand where the IV pumped life into his veins.

The nurses said his dehydration had led to a severe kidney infection. He had just narrowly missed full organ failure by a day.

"Pan," she whispered. "I…I'm sorry for everything. For my part in hurting you. For not seeing Jones for what he was."

Of course she received no reply. In a way she was thankful for that. If he was awake, would he talk her out of this? Try to be some sort of voice of reason? Or would he encourage this dangerous and wayward idea?

Five minutes left.

She continued to graze his skin, counting every second until she could move.

Why did Gold give her such a specific time limit?

"You never really told me about him." she said to Pan. "You didn't tell me how dark he really was."

Wendy found the gal to turn her hand and grip his hand.

"What else did he do to you Pan? Why do you hate him so much?"

Pan's hand flinched under hers.

She would have thought the scream that followed next was his if it wasn't for the flashing lights above her head.

Times up.

Wendy stilled as chaos erupted outside, nurses yelling, running back and forth trying to make sense of what was going on.

But she knew. It was time to go.

"I'm sorry," she said hastily to Pan, missing how his fingers curled inward—trying to stop her.

Wendy stuck her head carefully from the room, having to squint through the flashing red light that bathed the upper level of Storybrooke Hospital. The alarm had summoned all the nurses and the security guards to it, giving her a chance to escape unseen.

She took a deep breath and made a beeline for the stairs that would get her on the first floor.

Her ears were ringing and her vision was blurring from the aggressive lights. Coupled with her exhaustion, it was almost enough to make her pass out. She kept losing her grip on the stair railing and had to claw at the wall to keep from barreling down.

She paused when she saw the dingy, dented door that led to the forbidden ward. It was her only exit, the quickest way to get to her family and ensure their safety.

It was ridiculous to be afraid. Sheriff Graham had looked the place up and down. There was no one in there now. It was empty and dead.

But in Wendy's mind, they were still in there.

Suddenly, the alarm stopped, the agonizing red siren paused, bathing the hospital in the sickening white light. It was now or never. She inhaled sharply and ripped open the door, the dank air sucking her in. Trapping her in as she slammed the door behind her.

Wendy squinted into the dark gray hallway, trying to control her breathing, listening intently to every sound the dank ward had to offer.

She had a ride waiting for her, that's what Mr. Gold said. They'd leave, and then she'd truly be lost. She had to move. She had to move.

She kept her palms on the wall, her hands shaking as she crept carefully down the hall.

"There's nothing here," Wendy whispered to herself. "I'm alone here, I just need to get to the exit…I just need to get out."

Her grip on the wall became more frantic as she ventured further, the hallway advancing into a darkness she'd only see in the depths of her dreams.

The space around was beginning to feel more dream-like, as if she were walking through an inky cloud, surrounded by thick air that threatened to evaporate at any moment.

Dropping her to a slow, expected death.

As the pressure changed, so did Wendy's vision. Burst of reds and greens flashed before her, overstimulating her shaken mind. She began to get disoriented, fearful that she'd gotten lost and she would never find the exit. There was no light, nothing to lead her out.

But then, a shift. A flicker of icy wind licked her cheek.

And something swiped at her hair.

Wendy shot forward, the scream stuck in the depths of her throat shooting upwards to her brain.

No no no no no no no no.

She had to leave, whether out a new exit or to her death she didn't care.

She kept running into the darkness, anemic lines of right becoming more prominent, revealing she was closer to freedom.

Or perhaps it was her own mind singing its desperation for escape.

There was no door, no natural means of escape. The hallway only seemed to get longer.

As full-blown panic began to morph into sheer delusion, instinct kicked in. Wendy searched for the source of the scarce light until she found a filthy window. She used her sleeves to wipe it frantically, her fingers outlining the trees she could just see in the distant.

She pushed at it, trying frantically to get it open as her desperation rose.

A long bead of sweat dove down her spine, her arms shaking from excursion.

"Let me out!" she yelled, slamming her hand on the window until it was caked with a thick layer of dirt and dust.

"Please," she gasped as she began to beat on the glass again. Her only escape. "NOW!"

Wendy's palm burst through the glass, the crisp icy air embodying her freedom. She felt the blood before she felt the sting of the shards breaking into her skin but she continued to push and punch to get out of the forbidden wing.

With a final burst of adrenaline, she grabbed the edges of the window and pulled herself through the narrow space, the surrounding shrubbery scratching at her skin.

Her hips were just barely able to get through, and Wendy was certain she could feel something pulling at her ankles, trying to pull her back into the dark.

She clawed at the out wall for extra leverage, giving her just what she need to squeeze out of the window and hit the hard ground.

Wendy crawled as quickly as she could from the building, flipping onto her back to defend herself against the thing that had been lurking in the ward.

But she was met with nothing but darkness and blissful quiet. Whatever phantom that had plagued her has simply vanished.

Wendy took in a shaky breath, piecing her thoughts together bit by bit.

She had escaped the hospital, though the commotion she just made would no doubt garner unwanted attention. She had to keep moving. She had to get to her family.

She sighed and began to stand, shrieking when a piercing pain erupted though her right hand, arm and hip. She looked down in horror and saw flakes of glass sticking out of her limbs, the testament to her escape. She couldn't even flex her fingers. Each time the glass would stab at her damaged hands.

Wendy's frustration finally boiled over and she let out a great scream, one worthy of a cryptid.

"FUCK!" she yelled as loud as she could, a sharp sob breaking through her throat. For several moments she couldn't stop sobbing, couldn't be brave any more.

The last few months had been pure Hell and she had taken all the hits, numbed herself to the consequences in an attempt to move forward. But it wasn't just her psyche that took a dive this time. It was her heart and her spirit. Killian Jones had shown her the first bout of affection she's truly felt in weeks, made her feel more human that the soulless heap she'd felt like. Pan had long damaged her spirit, but she'd nearly lost her heart completely when she saw him in that hospital room. On death's door because of her.

Now her family—her parents and dear brothers—could be in the same state because she didn't have the gall to pull the trigger on Jones. What if he was there already? Could she do it this time?

She'd never find out if she stayed here sobbing in the dirt, she decided. She wiped her eyes, taking in several calming breaths. Yeah, she'd made some misguided decisions lately, but she had the chance to at least amend one. She'd made a deal with the devil to get to London and she had to go through with it, even if she had to face Graham's wrath when she returned.

She stood with a grimace, hissing as blood ran down her arms and legs, and began limping towards the aforementioned courtyard that modeled yet another maze of horrors. But, with the thought that she was yet another step closer to getting to her family before Jones did, she limped bravely into the weave of dead vines and branches.

She began to look back at the space she just left – wanted to catch a glimpse of the monsters who forced her through that beacon of hell—but decided against it as tears began to well into her eyes.

She'd had enough of that place.

The moon acted as Wendy's only guide and only light source save a few illegally dimmed streetlights. She pulled and fought of dead thorns as she moved closer to what she could make out as a black sea.

Wendy stumbled through the rest of the shrubbery. A glance behind her proved she's put in a good half mile from the hospital—which had otherwise been silent following her escape.

Knowing her time was still extremely limited, she search around quickly to spot an older-fashioned car and a notably tall man standing at its rear.

Wendy approached the two cautiously, both throbbing limbs and paranoid suspicion bubbling through her. This could easily be a trap from Gold—a diabolical and brutally cruel scenario to tease her exhausted mind. It would surely incriminate her to a tee. She's be sitting in Sheriff Graham's jail for the rest of her life.

But she had everything to lose, so she paused at the car, several feet from the large man.

Wendy cleared her dry throat—vaguely tasting dust—and coughed out a greeting to the man. He turned around effortlessly, his eyes evaluating her with a calm and potently disinterested scowl.

"Mr…bird?" Wendy coughed.

"Dove, actually," the man returned with a curt nod, his tone more softer than his appearance had previewed. "Miss Darling, I presume."

Wendy felt a twinge of relief, nodding.

Mr. Dove nodded and stepped around the car—oddly seeming smaller not that he was closer to Wendy. He opened the back passenger door and waved Wendy to it.

"We haven't much time, so I'm afraid we'll have to go straight to the Boston Airport,"

Wendy tensed. "We can't stop by my apartment quickly? I'm sorry, but I have to grab my cellphone charger, not to mention my passport—"

Mr. Dove moved slightly, holding out a shoulder bag thick with items.

"Mr. Gold had me gather the proper documentation. I'm afraid you'll have to figure out your toiletries in your own time."

Wendy's face paled, an unfortunate image of this perfect stranger filtering through her intimate belongings but accepted the bag quickly.

"I guess this is it," Wendy sighed, feeling a strange emptiness weigh her.

"Yes," Dove answered. "If you'll please—"

The irritating sound of a revved engine spearing towards them caused Wendy and Mr. Dove both to pause. Both shot towards the reverberating sound as a pair of headlights beamed closer to them.

Wendy sucked in a breath. If it was Graham, she was done for!

Mr. Dove tensed beside him and Wendy gasped when his hand drew into his oversized coat for what must have been a weapon.

The car – a pea green Voltzwagon Bug – came to a screeching halt in front of them, its owner stepping out with a growl.

"Tink!" Wendy gasped.

"Miss Le Bell?"

Tink burst out of her pea-green bug, the door slamming so hard behind her Wendy feared the sound echoed into the hospital.

The blond woman glared back before her Wendy and the excessively tall man who seemed to know her.

She stopped in front of them, hands on her hips, and they both seemed to shrink under her sharp gaze.

"I knew it," Tink said, the words like acid. "I felt it in my bones. Something is wrong and you're working with…"

"It's not what you think!" Wendy jumped in.

Tink gave her an incredulous look and turned her ire back towards the excessively tall man before them.

"Mr. Dove," Tink said as a form of greeting. "Please?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Le Bell," Dove spoke evenly. "This is between Miss Darling and Mr. Gold."

"Well now it's between her and me," Tink said, stepping around to the passenger side of her car. She opened her door, begging Wendy's cooperation with her eyes.

"Wendy, please get in."

"I can't," Wendy said, though she was itching to get into Tink's warm and familiar BMW than Gold's cold and ominous Cadillac.

"Wendy, whatever's going on, whatever you did or what you're running from, associating with Mr. Gold is not the way to fix your problem," Tink said.

"I don't have a choice," Wendy said simply. "I don't have time to explain, and I know I have no right asking you for anything…" she swallowed guiltily. "Please Tink, don't say anything and don't try to stop me."

Tink shook her head. "Wendy, let me help you. Gold is the last person you can trust. The second you accept something from him, your deal never ends. Whatever's happened to you, it's not worth chaining yourself to him."

"It is if it keeps my friends and family safe," Wendy countered before frowning. "Family, I mean."

Tink sighed. "Wendy, what happened between me and Mother Superior, that had nothing to do with you."

"Of course it is!" Wendy said.

"No," Tink said as she shook her head. She bowed it next as the next thought came to her. "It's kind of like Pan said, she had it coming. I hate her lies were exposed the way they were, but in the end, I'm glad it's all over with. Yes, I'm angry, but I'm ready to move on, and I am so sorry you got hurt and mixed up with this."

Wendy struggled not to cave. Tink wouldn't dare try to use mental manipulation with her, but this still stalling her even if her words seemed sincere.

"I…" Wendy gulped, too many thoughts swarming her senses.

"I…I can't do this now," Wendy cried. "I have to go."

"Where are you going? What's going on Wendy, let me help you!"

"I can't let anyone else get hurt because of me! Please Tink, let me handle this."

"Not like this," Tink said firmly, turning her sharp gaze to Dove. "Where are you taking her? I'll take her there."

"Tink, no—" Wendy begged.

"Don't be like Pan, Wendy," Tink yelled. Wendy stiffened. "Don't push everyone away when things become too much! You have people who care about you! Let them help you. Whatever's happened, don't go at it alone."

Wendy stared at her former friend. How could one person be so sure when everything was falling around them? Was Tink right? Was she doing what Pan would do and push people away? He did do that, but there were moments when she could feel that all he wanted was to reach out. However, he disguised this need with cruelty, either due to a lack of compassion or a fear of intimacy she had yet to discover..

And now Wendy was doing the same thing.

You're just as filthy and selfish as he is.

Even though she wanted to protect Tink, she also didn't want to leave Storybrooke with a complete stranger.

Wendy turned to Dove, who was still watching their interaction quietly.

"I'd like to go with her, please,"

Dove nodded. "I can't stop you, but I will have to alert Mr. Gold of this change."

"You may do so," Wendy said, slinging the bag with her passport protectively over her shoulder.

Dove looked down at his watch. "I'd suggest you move quickly then. You're flight for London leave at 4 a.m."

Tink stiffened. "London?"

Wendy looked at her helplessly and Tink didn't press the subject further.

"Boston Airport it is."

Wendy nodded and got into Tink's warm car, putting on her seatbelt as Tink typed the directions in her phone.

Wendy looked at Dove through the rearview mirror as they drove off. He was a still as a statute, and she truly hoped he was more friend than foe. Still, she wondered what the repercussions of her decision would be with Gold. But she couldn't think of that right now. She couldn't think of anything but getting to London.

"Check the glove compartment." Tink said suddenly.

"What?"

Tink took her eyes off the road for a moment to nod at Wendy's hands and legs.

"You're bleeding. I think I have some antiseptic and gauze in my first aid kit. It's in the glove compartment."

"Oh!" Wendy said, the pain creeping back into her limbs. Her hands were blood and dirty as were her jeans. A thick, dry gash stained her entire thigh. Wendy viciously rubbed at the area with Tink's provided wet wipes, biting her lip to keep from hissing at the pain. No doubt she'd need to clean it properly when she reached London. She parents may insist she see a doctor.

Tink remained quiet as they drove but Wendy could sense her tension. Her hands gripped the steering wheel firmly, a hint of white spreading across her knuckles.

"I can't tell you much right now," Wendy said, looking out the window so she wouldn't meet Tink's eyes.

"I figured," she returned. "But…I'm willing to listen. You know that, right?"

Wendy did. And she was more than grateful. But she didn't want her to taint her with her sins. Tink deserved so much better than that.

Thankfully, Tink didn't breach the subject any further and they soon arrived at the airport with ample time to spare.

"Do you want me to walk in with you?" Tink inquired.

"I'm fine, thank you," Wendy said as she opened the door.

"Hold on," Tink said, undoing her seatbelt and turning to search through her back seat. Wendy was surprised when she pulled out one of Wendy's tote back, her cellphone charger poised at the overflowing bag's contents.

"I…"

"Told you I'd bring you some things," Tink finished, giving her a half smile. "I got you Wendy, no matter what."

Wendy hugged the bag closely to her, the familiar scent of her clothing causing tears to well in her eyes. And try as Wendy did, she couldn't stop them from flowing. She was sobbing before she could stop herself, harder than she had even at the hospital.

Tink allowed her a few moments to get started before she leaned in and wrapped her arms around her, allowing her to sob into her shoulder.

"It's okay," Tink said.

As she continued to release her anguish, Wendy thought perhaps she was right. She survived so much so far and Tink's compassion inspired her that she would survive this whole horror story.

She calmed finally, though Tink's comfort did not cease.

It was this comfort that allowed Wendy to belive—truly, truly believe—

She was not alone.

Felix never really knew what to make of August. He knew of his doomed relationship with Pan, knew it was just a bit more serious than some of his other trysts, but ultimately didn't survive Pan's chaotic mood and lifestyle.

Frankly, he wasn't fond of August. He hated how he'd hurt his father over and over again. Hated how casually he lived with the things he did.

But, he decided as they walked to Pan and Wendy's shared room, he had to have some decency if he went through all they had the last few days for Pan's sake. Pity his fondness was one-sided.

They entered the room the nurse below gave them, squinting in the black to see two empty and unmade beds.

"Maybe we're in the wrong room?"

Felix knew good and well they weren't. August knew it as well, but admitting to the sight before them would lead to a whole new wave of trouble.

Pan's bed was empty, his IVs thrown carelessly to the floor.

His window—fully opened—had let in a strangely warm and terrifying breeze in his absence.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Geez, I finally got Pan off that ship … but where is he now?

Life's weird, you know? I'm 26 years old and I'm essentially trying to start over.

I've quit my most recent job – and possible career—as a journalist. It was from a combination of exhaustion and a disagreement with management, but the job was leaving me no time or energy to pursue my personal writing. I've been very depressed the past few years and am making some adjustments in my life to try to ease it. I don't know what's happening next, but I want to be me again, and that may take a while. But, in the meantime, I think the best place to start is here.

P.S. I've been working on this chapter since February. It's good to finally get it out.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"We're almost there, okay?" Graham said to the shaking girl beside him, keeping his eyes on the road. If he looked at her, he'd go back to the docks and tear that damned ship apart with his own hands. He'd prefer its owner.

Wendy didn't respond, her bloodshot eyes trained on the passing town, the icy window cooling her burnt cheek.

She was so drained following her confrontation with Jones, but she was angrier at herself than anything else.

She let him go. She let him go and she didn't know why.

He was right there in front of her and she had distracted him long enough that if she had sent the call to Graham he would have been there in moments, gun drawn and handcuffs awaiting Pan's kidnapper.

But she let him go!

"Stupid, fucking stupid!" Wendy husked, fresh tears starting to flow.

"No you're not," Graham soothed.

"I let him go I let him go…" Wendy yelled before breaking down all over again.

Graham gripped the steering wheel hard, trying desperately to contain his firm composure.

Wendy was in trouble and he had no choice but to bring her into custody. As the sheriff, it was his duty, as the man who'd gotten to know her, who'd helped as many times that he had, he was devastated for her.

His fingers twisted into the rough leather, years of police work helping him ease into an impassive state so that her cries wouldn't affect him.

Almost.

He turned down the road to get her to the hospital. He'd have to have Whale look her over for legality sake, but then it'd be off to the station.

He was half-hoping Jones had threatened her, forcibly coerced her into letting him go. At least then she'd be innocent on that level.

After all…Jones did have valuable information on her…

Before he could muse on that subject any further, they arrived at the hospital, and Graham decided to let the matter rest for now. He had a lot of calls to make and Wendy couldn't do much more harm in a secure hospital room.

They sat in the car a moment longer, each musing on their own thoughts.

Wendy had let go of a madman and she couldn't pinpoint why. If it had been de Vil or Jekyll they'd be in a jail cell by now, but why not Jones?

Because she was too close, she realized, and she still hadn't accepted that he had used her. That he lied to her face while Pan was dying just under her feet.

But he was going to let her go! Hell, he'd promised her twice.

And in the end he had…

"I can't kill you, Wendy, you've grown on me too much."

Wendy leaned her head back into the leather seat, groaning. Maybe he did have some shred of humility, fine, but he was still a kidnapper and most likely a murderer.

She'd messed up, Gods had she.

The shrill of a cellphone caused them both to bolt, Graham grabbing the device in his cup holder to silence it.

"Damn it," he cursed when he saw the number, shooting a look to Wendy. "Stay here."

His voice more cold than he'd wanted it to be. But he had to harden his heart now.

Back at the car, Wendy watched the exchange between Graham and whoever was on the other line blankly, her latest outburst having drained her.

The sheriff looked tense and his eyes would cut to her momentarily. Finally he ended the call and made a quick line to her door.

"Let's go," he sighed.

"Where—"

"Back to your room for now," Graham responded, not meeting her eyes.

Wendy allowed him to lead her back to the hospital.

A cold gust of air hit them when they entered the lobby, the very place Wendy had snuck from not even an hour before.

She glanced at the chairs Felix, Tink and August had been in and found them to be empty, but more yelling caused her to turn to the circulatory desk.

"We just want to make sure they're alright!" Tink yelled at the nurse.

"And I've told you unless you're family—"

"We are family!" Tink shot back.

"Enough!" Graham yelled, all but shoving Wendy into the open elevator. "Visiting hours are over. I want you all to go home and I don't want to see you again tonight or so help me I will throw you all in a cell!"

The trio stiffened. Graham had never been this firm before, this…angry.

Tink's eyes met Wendy's. There were so many things they knew they wanted to say, and Wendy was desperate for some kind of comfort.

"I'll bring you some things," Tink said with an uneasy smile.

"Bring them to the station," Graham muttered as he closed the elevator, leaving the trio and Wendy stunned.

The sheriff said nothing to his charge as they traveled to their destination. Wendy knew she was in dire trouble, but she couldn't muster enough fear to truly care. Her mind was too otherwise occupied.

They made to their floor and Wendy stepped out without instruction.

"Just get cleaned up and stay put," he sighed as he opened the door, pausing when he saw that the other occupant was wide awake…

And going through the file he'd left behind.

Wendy gasped at the site of Pan sitting upright in his bed. Just an hour ago she hadn't even been sure he'd ever open his eyes again.

But his eyes were wildly searching through the contents of the file, tearing at the pages with strength he shouldn't have.

"Pan…"

His eyebrows were drawn down in a way that made him confused. He blinked once and finally looked up at her and his expression was utterly unreadable.

That is until he turned to Graham and fire arose in his eyes.

"Is he locked up? Have you told her?" His voice was a bare croak..

Graham came around her and snatched the file from Pan's hands, papers flying about the room.

"You are always…" Graham began with a growl, stopping as his nails tore into the papers in his fingers.

Pan looked between them and at the paper that had flown on the floor. Jekyll's blank face was staring up at her and it was making her nauseous.

But there was something else.

"Have. You. Told. Her!" Pan yelled, his voice breaking from exhaustion.

Graham kept his jaw clenched, is eyes cutting to another series of photos that his officers and pulled from Jones's ship.

Wendy followed his gaze and met the sheriff's, who seemed to beg her not to move, not to think about the situation going on around her.

But she was shaking at this point, terrified and so very confused.

She darted to the photos Graham was staring at, feeling the ghost of his hand grasp at her to stop her, but to no avail.

"Wendy wait—"

But she had one photo turned over, and her blood ran cold.

The faces staring back at her were friendly. Their authentic smile should have comforted her.

But instead they filled her with the most gut-wrenching horror she'd felt to date.

They were the smiles of her parents, her dear mother who never had an unkind word for anyone. Who braved cancer so that her only daughter could seek her own adventure without guilt or burden. Her firm father, who wasn't unkind, but had no patience to try to understand his daughter. Wendy wanted to fix that one day. Her brothers, so young, still coming into their own.

And her. At least, Wendy thought it was. She could barely recognize the girl in the photo, bright eyes and unscarred skin.

It was a picture that, to her knowledge, only existed on her hallway table in her apartment and her parents' mantle at home.

Why was it in one of the boxes that had been on Jones' ship?

"Miss Darling?"

Wendy blinked, the motion slow. The act of lifting her head to look at the Sherriff's face was nearly impossible to do. Her life had been sucked from every cell in her body.

What had she done?

"Miss Darling," Graham repeated. He sounded so far away. Wendy could almost believe he wasn't in the room.

In the distance, a deep grunted cough. And then another until the sound was a constant, frightening hum.

Graham vanished from her view in a flash and she heard his voice burst.

"Pan! Nurse, get in here!"

Wendy found the strength to turn her head.

Pan was bouncing up and down on the bed, mouth agaped, gasping for air that wouldn't come.

"Whale!" Graham screamed as he tried to stabilize Pan.

A broken sound left her throat. Not Pan. Not now.

"Don't …" she croaked, collapsing miserably as struggled to lift herself to her knees.

Don't go.

"Get her—"

What had she done?

"Away!"

Then…

Shifting.

She couldn't see Pan any more. She'd been pulled into a separate part of the room, a thick curtain drawn to obscure him from her view.

But the noise was all too clear.

"P—P—"

"Get Whale in here now!"

Wendy's voice cracked and she has to use both hands to block out her sobbing.

What had she done?

A shift.

Like waves.

The light had changed both inside and outside the room. It must be night now.

On a ship.

Wendy sat up from her hard hospital bed, the curtain drawn around her making her feel more closed in. Suffocated.

The only relief was the thing line separating the curtain from the wall, giving her the barest glimpse of the rest of the room.

The sounds of the hospital's machines lulled her into an outward sense of calm. On the inside however, her blood was crawling.

Hours seemed to pass as she watched the minimum activity occur from that slit. Nurses checking Pan's vitals, checking his monitor. He didn't move once.

"He almost died," once nurse whispered.

"Him?" the other gasped, looking hurriedly back and forth between the comatose boy and her workmate. "Unbelievable! Of all the times he's been in this hospital…"

They blessedly left her alone.

Even if they had looked in to check on her, she wouldn't have been able to reply or cooperate. The shock of the last day had left her numb, incapable of feeling anything but the weight of her mistakes.

It was heavier each time she saw the tense rise and fall of Pan's chest as oxygen was manually pumped into his body by machines. In the way the tube down his throat shook on occasion.

This was the stillest she'd ever seen the wild boy. It was unnerving, like a lucid nightmare.

"Please, open your eyes."

Heal this scar on my heart.

His silence did allow her to think, however.

Her family was in some kind of apparent danger. Why would Jones have a photo of them? What had she or Pan done to make them targets?

She wondered if Graham had notified them or at least the authorities in London. Were they safe? Were they—

No. She couldn't think that. If Jones let her live, certainly he'd exchange the same curtesy to her parents and two underage boys, right?

Wendy slowly sat up, letting blood flow more evenly to her as she urged adrenaline to return. She couldn't just lie here. She couldn't risk her family not knowing they could be in danger.

She eased her legs off the side of the bed carefully, both for balance sake and caution. The nurses would very well tie her to the bed if they saw her walking around. And she had the suspicion that Graham was ready to throw her in a jail cell for the trouble she'd caused.

She was formulating a half-hazard plan in her groggy mind, and it would take someone more diabolical than she to help her optimize it.

She had to get to her family.

Her bag and clothes were laid out neatly on the counter between her and Pan's bed. She grabbed her bag and hugged it to her chest as she slid down to the foot of her bed, trying to stay out of sight from the roaming nurses outside. She breathed in relief as she found her cellphone. 20%. That was enough to make the call she needed.

She hands shook as she dialed the appropriate numbers to make a long-distance call to London and waited to hear her mother's gentle greeting or even her father's more gruff one.

A click.

"Mother?"

We're sorry, we cannot connect this call. Your service is out of bound. Hang up and –

"Damn it!" Wendy shouted, gaining just enough composure to quiet down before a nurse showed up.

Her mind raced like the wind during a sea storm, all her ideas scattered like the remains of a wrecked ship.

Then suddenly, a glimpse of clarity. The eye of the storm.

The eye of the devil himself.

Wendy readied her cell phone to make another call.

No, not to Tink or Felix, or even Lily or August. Too risky. They needed to be here for Pan.

No, she needed someone darker, someone who didn't have anyone else to lose.

She grimaced when she felt the crumpled up business card at the bottom of her bag. For a split second, she hoped it wasn't the one she was looking for, but of course it was.

She gripped it tightly in her clasped hands, hesitatingly heavily. She glanced at Pan's unconscious form, wishing desperately that he would open his eyes and talk her out of what she was about to do. Yell at her. Call her names. Anything.

But he was comatose because of her. She had no right to hurt him anymore.

She took a deep breath and checked once more that there wasn't a nurse coming dialed in the number on the card, hoping they wouldn't answer. It was late after all. Well past business hours—

"Gold's Pawnshop."

Wendy closed her eyes, feeling a nauseous sense of regret hit her.

"Hello?" The voice on the other line inquired more aggressively.

"M-Mr. Gold," Wendy finally spoke just when she thought he would hung up. "It's…It's Wendy Darling."

The pause that followed sounded like the silence after a car crash, when a survivor was still trying to determine if they had survived or not.

When Wendy heard the haunting chuckle that followed her greeting, she was more than certain that at one point in the last few days she must have died.

She was entering the lowest level of hell.

"Miss Darling," Gold spoke. Wendy could picture the large grin spreading over his sharp face. "What can I do for you?"

Wendy fussed with the card in her hand, the silky cardstock a scalding coal in palm.

"I need your assistance getting out of Storybrooke, preferably in the next hour,"

"Does the Mirror not pay you vacation time, Miss Darling?"

Wendy clenched her teeth. "Please, stop."

She hadn't meant the words to come out as a choked sob, but the stress from the last few days were weighing her down fast and she no longer had the ability to hold up her control.

Gold seemed to sense her distress and cut to the chase.

"What's happened?"

"I…I…I can't…" Wendy slipped down the wall, clutching the phone for dear life. "It's complicated, but I got involved with someone who has put everyone I care about in danger."

"Is this about Pan's disappearance?" Gold questioned evenly, even the barest hint of concern absent from his voice.

Wendy decided not to focus on that, knew she'd say something that would end their conversation abruptly is she did.

"It's more about the person who caused his disappearance, partially I mean," she tugged on the edges of her hair nervously. "Bottom line, he's done with Pan and Storybrooke, I think, but my family in London might be next on his list."

Gold remained quiet as Wendy summed up the details from the last few hours, not pressing for any unnecessary details.

"I know it's asking for a lot very quickly, but …" Wendy allowed herself to trail off, not having the strength or the mentality to press on. He knew what she needed, he didn't need the sob story.

"It's quite the request indeed," he commented. Wendy could heard the wickedness rise once more in his voice. "But I accept, but I need something from you first."

"I have every intention of paying you back."

"Not's hardly a concern of mine, Miss Darling," he said. "What I need from you is something a bit more personal."

Wendy gripped the phone tightly. Wendy hadn't thought she'd underestimated him this entire time. She'd seen the darkness in his eyes, saw it in his cold, calculating smile.

She thought briefly of Belle, recalled the gentle way she heard him speak to her at the hospital. Had that been a farce, or had he simply pulled down his mask long enough to appear human. At the time of the young woman's rescue, Wendy wondered if perhaps Gold would recall Wendy's part in saving her and call them even.

"What is it?" she asked, accepting her fate.

He was quite for a moment, but the words he spoke next chilled her.

"I need you to tell me how much you need my help,"

Wendy blinked, generally unsure just what he meant.

"Pardon?"

His cold chuckle followed.

"I know how to recognize a desperate soul, and you are by far the most desperate one I've met to date."

Wendy shook her head, unable to fully comprehend what he was asking of her.

"What…I…I…"

"And I want you ask yourself why that is," he continued.

Those final words hit her like a bucket of ice. Every faux decision she'd made in the last few weeks.

She hadn't meant to hurt anyone. Hadn't ever wanted to. It just happened, and she inadvertently isolated herself from anyone who cared for her.

She looked at Pan's unconscious form once more. It was easy to blame him. He'd twisted every decent thing she'd tried to accomplish. He burned everything he touched.

But she'd made her own choices. She chose to allow him in her life and kept him too close. He'd gotten hurt in the process.

In a way, he would have been better off if she had cut him out.

"This is my price, Miss Darling," he said. "You may take it, or we can part, and we'll speak nothing more of this conversation.

"Fine. I need your help. I…I really need your help."

"Because?"

A hot tear ran down her cheek. It felt like the barest of defeat.

"I'm…"

All.

Alone.

"I'm desperate."

She heard the lightest hum as his response. It was almost a gluttonal sound. She wasn't sure how she would have reacted if she'd heard him laugh.

"Very good, Miss Darling," he said at last. Wendy managed to keep her chin from wobbling.

"Now, I need you to follow my next instructions very carefully. Are you able to leave the hospital?"

Wendy straightened up. Her family. She had to leave.

"I can try, but there's nurses everywhere. I think Sheriff Graham has me on some kind of unspoken lockdown."

Gold hummed once more, this one more calculating than gratified.

"I'll handle him. Now Miss Darling, I want you to dress and gather what you have with you and be ready to leave. When I hang up, I need you to wait exactly 15 minutes. Exactly that, do you understand?"

"Yes." Wendy replied half-heartedly.

"Good. When you're 15 minutes start, you'll make your way down the hospital stairs. Under no circumstances are you to go near the elevators."

"Cameras." Wendy concluded.

"Very good," he praised, though the comment had the weight of an insult.

"Then, when you come out on the first floor, you're going to take a left until you get to the west wing, the one adjacent to the children's ward, do you recall?"

Wendy felt her entire body tense.

The darkness. The smell of mold. Belle's wile, blue eyes.

That horrid man's hands around her neck.

"No." she said definitively. "I can't go through there. I won't."

"Yes you will." Gold said firmly.

"There's another way, there has to be," Wendy pled. How was it that she'd been in this hospital so many damn times but hadn't learned the exit routes?

"Just maybe there is, but do you really want to waste time exploring those options?"

Wendy seethed. "You're doing this on purpose. You're sick!"

She was greeted with a humorless chuckle. "I'm many things, Miss Darling, but right now I'm the one person in the world who could help you."

That's not so, Wendy wanted to say, but she dared not bring Felix or Tink or even August into this. This man seemed to gain power over anyone who gave him their name.

"Then what?" She croaked.

Why are you doing this? I helped you.

"You'll vacate the ward and you'll continue along the wall of the west wing until you come across an overgrown parking lot about a quarter of mile past the hospital. There's an overgrown courtyard you must go through. A man by the name of Mr. Dove will be there waiting for you with a car. You'll go with him and he'll escort you to Boston. By the time you reach there, a one-way ticket should be awaiting you."

The term 'one-way' perked Wendy's attention. Did he think she made no plans to return? Did she at this point?

"Is all that agreeable?"

Wendy hesitated. What was waiting for her if she returned? Scorned friends who were better off without her? An unstable job she was more than certain she was fired from at this point? A jail sentence?

She glanced at Pan, unconscious and oddly peaceful-looking.

"Yes," Wendy answered. "I'll meet him there."

"Very good," Gold said. "Fifteen minutes, Miss Darling."

"Yes." Wendy agreed, ready to hang up.

"Oh, and Miss Darling?"

Wendy flinched, begrudgingly lifting the phone to her ear.

"Yes?"

"Such a pleasure hearing from you again."

He hung up before she could respond, leaving her in blessedly silent quiet.

She sat there for a moment more, trying to decide exactly what consequences she'd see for making a deal with a shark like Mr. Gold. It couldn't be any worse than the rawness in her soul.

She wiped her face. She couldn't think about that now, couldn't focus on anything but getting to her family.

Fifteen minutes. Exactly fifteen minutes.

She began to move, gathering what little she had with her and changing, her stomach lurching at every sound. She eyed the door as she finished, hearing the distance taps of nurses shoes go back and forth.

She silenced her phone, ready to leave, but the site of Pan's still form from the corner of her eye caused her to pause.

She lowered her head in a sense of shame, each beep of his heart monitor stabbing at her.

He didn't respond when she stood over him, her hand's hovering above his form, unsure of where to go.

Ten minutes.

Wasn't there evidence that comatose patience could sense the outward world? Hear, smell and even imagine everything around them?

Looking at him, Wendy had to doubt that theory. He was so still. So unlike the every-moving wild boy who brought so much chaos in and out of her life.

Wendy grazed her fingers over his hand where the IV pumped life into his veins.

The nurses said his dehydration had led to a severe kidney infection. He had just narrowly missed full organ failure by a day.

"Pan," she whispered. "I…I'm sorry for everything. For my part in hurting you. For not seeing Jones for what he was."

Of course she received no reply. In a way she was thankful for that. If he was awake, would he talk her out of this? Try to be some sort of voice of reason? Or would he encourage this dangerous and wayward idea?

Five minutes left.

She continued to graze his skin, counting every second until she could move.

Why did Gold give her such a specific time limit?

"You never really told me about him." she said to Pan. "You didn't tell me how dark he really was."

Wendy found the gal to turn her hand and grip his hand.

"What else did he do to you Pan? Why do you hate him so much?"

Pan's hand flinched under hers.

She would have thought the scream that followed next was his if it wasn't for the flashing lights above her head.

Times up.

Wendy stilled as chaos erupted outside, nurses yelling, running back and forth trying to make sense of what was going on.

But she knew. It was time to go.

"I'm sorry," she said hastily to Pan, missing how his fingers curled inward—trying to stop her.

Wendy stuck her head carefully from the room, having to squint through the flashing red light that bathed the upper level of Storybrooke Hospital. The alarm had summoned all the nurses and the security guards to it, giving her a chance to escape unseen.

She took a deep breath and made a beeline for the stairs that would get her on the first floor.

Her ears were ringing and her vision was blurring from the aggressive lights. Coupled with her exhaustion, it was almost enough to make her pass out. She kept losing her grip on the stair railing and had to claw at the wall to keep from barreling down.

She paused when she saw the dingy, dented door that led to the forbidden ward. It was her only exit, the quickest way to get to her family and ensure their safety.

It was ridiculous to be afraid. Sheriff Graham had looked the place up and down. There was no one in there now. It was empty and dead.

But in Wendy's mind, they were still in there.

Suddenly, the alarm stopped, the agonizing red siren paused, bathing the hospital in the sickening white light. It was now or never. She inhaled sharply and ripped open the door, the dank air sucking her in. Trapping her in as she slammed the door behind her.

Wendy squinted into the dark gray hallway, trying to control her breathing, listening intently to every sound the dank ward had to offer.

She had a ride waiting for her, that's what Mr. Gold said. They'd leave, and then she'd truly be lost. She had to move. She had to move.

She kept her palms on the wall, her hands shaking as she crept carefully down the hall.

"There's nothing here," Wendy whispered to herself. "I'm alone here, I just need to get to the exit…I just need to get out."

Her grip on the wall became more frantic as she ventured further, the hallway advancing into a darkness she'd only see in the depths of her dreams.

The space around was beginning to feel more dream-like, as if she were walking through an inky cloud, surrounded by thick air that threatened to evaporate at any moment.

Dropping her to a slow, expected death.

As the pressure changed, so did Wendy's vision. Burst of reds and greens flashed before her, overstimulating her shaken mind. She began to get disoriented, fearful that she'd gotten lost and she would never find the exit. There was no light, nothing to lead her out.

But then, a shift. A flicker of icy wind licked her cheek.

And something swiped at her hair.

Wendy shot forward, the scream stuck in the depths of her throat shooting upwards to her brain.

No no no no no no no no.

She had to leave, whether out a new exit or to her death she didn't care.

She kept running into the darkness, anemic lines of right becoming more prominent, revealing she was closer to freedom.

Or perhaps it was her own mind singing its desperation for escape.

There was no door, no natural means of escape. The hallway only seemed to get longer.

As full-blown panic began to morph into sheer delusion, instinct kicked in. Wendy searched for the source of the scarce light until she found a filthy window. She used her sleeves to wipe it frantically, her fingers outlining the trees she could just see in the distance.

She pushed at it, trying frantically to get it open as her desperation rose.

A long bead of sweat dove down her spine, her arms shaking from the excursion.

"Let me out!" she yelled, slamming her hand on the window until it was caked with a thick layer of dirt and dust.

"Please," she gasped as she began to beat on the glass again. Her only escape. "NOW!"

Wendy's palm burst through the glass, the crisp icy air embodying her freedom. She felt the blood before she felt the sting of the shards breaking into her skin but she continued to push and punch to get out of the forbidden wing.

With a final burst of adrenaline, she grabbed the edges of the window and pulled herself through the narrow space, the surrounding shrubbery scratching at her skin.

Her hips were just barely able to get through, and Wendy was certain she could feel something pulling at her ankles, trying to pull her back into the dark.

She clawed at the out wall for extra leverage, giving her just what she need to squeeze out of the window and hit the hard ground.

Wendy crawled as quickly as she could from the building, flipping onto her back to defend herself against the thing that had been lurking in the ward.

But she was met with nothing but darkness and blissful quiet. Whatever phantom that had plagued her has simply vanished.

Wendy took in a shaky breath, piecing her thoughts together bit by bit.

She had escaped the hospital, though the commotion she just made would no doubt garner unwanted attention. She had to keep moving. She had to get to her family.

She sighed and began to stand, shrieking when a piercing pain erupted though her right hand, arm and hip. She looked down in horror and saw flakes of glass sticking out of her limbs, the testament to her escape. She couldn't even flex her fingers. Each time the glass would stab at her damaged hands.

Wendy's frustration finally boiled over and she let out a great scream, one worthy of a cryptid.

"FUCK!" she yelled as loud as she could, a sharp sob breaking through her throat. For several moments she couldn't stop sobbing, couldn't be brave anymore.

The last few months had been pure Hell and she had taken all the hits, numbed herself to the consequences in an attempt to move forward. But it wasn't just her psyche that took a dive this time. It was her heart and her spirit. Killian Jones had shown her the first bout of affection she's truly felt in weeks, made her feel more human that the soulless heap she'd felt like. Pan had long damaged her spirit, but she'd nearly lost her heart completely when she saw him in that hospital room. On death's door because of her.

Now her family—her parents and dear brothers—could be in the same state because she didn't have the gall to pull the trigger on Jones. What if he was there already? Could she do it this time?

She'd never find out if she stayed here sobbing in the dirt, she decided. She wiped her eyes, taking in several calming breaths. Yeah, she'd made some misguided decisions lately, but she had the chance to at least amend one. She'd made a deal with the devil to get to London and she had to go through with it, even if she had to face Graham's wrath when she returned.

She stood with a grimace, hissing as blood ran down her arms and legs, and began limping towards the aforementioned courtyard that modeled yet another maze of horrors. But, with the thought that she was yet another step closer to getting to her family before Jones did, she limped bravely into the weave of dead vines and branches.

She began to look back at the space she just left – wanted to catch a glimpse of the monsters who forced her through that beacon of hell—but decided against it as tears began to well into her eyes.

She'd had enough of that place.

The moon acted as Wendy's only guide and only light source save a few illegally dimmed streetlights. She pulled and fought of dead thorns as she moved closer to what she could make out as a black sea.

Wendy stumbled through the rest of the shrubbery. A glance behind her proved she's put in a good half mile from the hospital—which had otherwise been silent following her escape.

Knowing her time was still extremely limited, she search around quickly to spot an older-fashioned car and a notably tall man standing at its rear.

Wendy approached the two cautiously, both throbbing limbs and paranoid suspicion bubbling through her. This could easily be a trap from Gold—a diabolical and brutally cruel scenario to tease her exhausted mind. It would surely incriminate her to a tee. She'd be sitting in Sheriff Graham's jail for the rest of her life.

But she had everything to lose, so she paused at the car, several feet from the large man.

Wendy cleared her dry throat—vaguely tasting dust—and coughed out a greeting to the man. He turned around effortlessly, his eyes evaluating her with a calm and potently disinterested scowl.

"Mr…bird?" Wendy coughed.

"Dove, actually," the man returned with a curt nod, his tone more softer than his appearance had previewed. "Miss Darling, I presume."

Wendy felt a twinge of relief, nodding.

Mr. Dove nodded and stepped around the car—oddly seeming smaller not that he was closer to Wendy. He opened the back passenger door and waved Wendy to it.

"We haven't much time, so I'm afraid we'll have to go straight to the Boston Airport,"

Wendy tensed. "We can't stop by my apartment quickly? I'm sorry, but I have to grab my cellphone charger, not to mention my passport—"

Mr. Dove moved slightly, holding out a shoulder bag thick with items.

"Mr. Gold had me gather the proper documentation. I'm afraid you'll have to figure out your toiletries in your own time."

Wendy's face paled, an unfortunate image of this perfect stranger filtering through her intimate belongings but accepted the bag quickly.

"I guess this is it," Wendy sighed, feeling a strange emptiness weigh her.

"Yes," Dove answered. "If you'll please—"

The irritating sound of a revved engine spearing towards them caused Wendy and Mr. Dove both to pause. Both shot towards the reverberating sound as a pair of headlights beamed closer to them.

Wendy sucked in a breath. If it was Graham, she was done for!

Mr. Dove tensed beside him and Wendy gasped when his hand drew into his oversized coat for what must have been a weapon.

The car – a pea-green Voltzwagon Bug – came to a screeching halt in front of them, its owner stepping out with a growl.

"Tink!" Wendy gasped.

"Miss Le Bell?"

Tink burst out of her pea-green bug, the door slamming so hard behind her Wendy feared the sound echoed into the hospital.

The blond woman glared back before her Wendy and the excessively tall man who seemed to know her.

She stopped in front of them, hands on her hips, and they both seemed to shrink under her sharp gaze.

"I knew it," Tink said, the words like acid. "I felt it in my bones. Something is wrong and you're working with…"

"It's not what you think!" Wendy jumped in.

Tink gave her an incredulous look and turned her ire back towards the excessively tall man before them.

"Mr. Dove," Tink said as a form of greeting. "Please?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Le Bell," Dove spoke evenly. "This is between Miss Darling and Mr. Gold."

"Well now it's between her and me," Tink said, stepping around to the passenger side of her car. She opened her door, begging Wendy's cooperation with her eyes.

"Wendy, please get in."

"I can't," Wendy said, though she was itching to get into Tink's warm and familiar BMW than Gold's cold and ominous Cadillac.

"Wendy, whatever's going on, whatever you did or what you're running from, associating with Mr. Gold is not the way to fix your problem," Tink said.

"I don't have a choice," Wendy said simply. "I don't have time to explain, and I know I have no right asking you for anything…" she swallowed guiltily. "Please Tink, don't say anything and don't try to stop me."

Tink shook her head. "Wendy, let me help you. Gold is the last person you can trust. The second you accept something from him, your deal never ends. Whatever's happened to you, it's not worth chaining yourself to him."

"It is if it keeps my friends and family safe," Wendy countered before frowning. "Family, I mean."

Tink sighed. "Wendy, what happened between me and Mother Superior, that had nothing to do with you."

"Of course it is!" Wendy said.

"No," Tink said as she shook her head. She bowed it next as the next thought came to her. "It's kind of like Pan said, she had it coming. I hate her lies were exposed the way they were, but in the end, I'm glad it's all over with. Yes, I'm angry, but I'm ready to move on, and I am so sorry you got hurt and mixed up with this."

Wendy struggled not to cave. Tink wouldn't dare try to use mental manipulation with her, but this still stalled her even if her words seemed sincere.

"I…" Wendy gulped, too many thoughts swarming her senses.

"I…I can't do this now," Wendy cried. "I have to go."

"Where are you going? What's going on Wendy, let me help you!"

"I can't let anyone else get hurt because of me! Please Tink, let me handle this."

"Not like this," Tink said firmly, turning her sharp gaze to Dove. "Where are you taking her? I'll take her there."

"Tink, no—" Wendy begged.

"Don't be like Pan, Wendy," Tink yelled. Wendy stiffened. "Don't push everyone away when things become too much! You have people who care about you! Let them help you. Whatever's happened, don't go at it alone."

Wendy stared at her former friend. How could one person be so sure when everything was falling around them? Was Tink right? Was she doing what Pan would do and push people away? He did do that, but there were moments when she could feel that all he wanted was to reach out. However, he disguised this need with cruelty, either due to a lack of compassion or a fear of intimacy she had yet to discover..

And now Wendy was doing the same thing.

You're just as filthy and selfish as he is.

Even though she wanted to protect Tink, she also didn't want to leave Storybrooke with a complete stranger.

Wendy turned to Dove, who was still watching their interaction quietly.

"I'd like to go with her, please,"

Dove nodded. "I can't stop you, but I will have to alert Mr. Gold of this change."

"You may do so," Wendy said, slinging the bag with her passport protectively over her shoulder.

Dove looked down at his watch. "I'd suggest you move quickly then. You're flight for London leave at 4 a.m."

Tink stiffened. "London?"

Wendy looked at her helplessly and Tink didn't press the subject further.

"Boston Airport it is."

Wendy nodded and got into Tink's warm car, putting on her seatbelt as Tink typed the directions in her phone.

Wendy looked at Dove through the rearview mirror as they drove off. He was a still as a statute, and she truly hoped he was more friend than foe. Still, she wondered what the repercussions of her decision would be with Gold. But she couldn't think of that right now. She couldn't think of anything but getting to London.

"Check the glove compartment," Tink said suddenly.

"What?"

Tink took her eyes off the road for a moment to nod at Wendy's hands and legs.

"You're bleeding. I think I have some antiseptic and gauze in my first aid kit. It's in the glove compartment."

"Oh!" Wendy said, the pain creeping back into her limbs. Her hands were blood and dirty as were her jeans. A thick, dry gash stained her entire thigh. Wendy viciously rubbed at the area with Tink's provided wet wipes, biting her lip to keep from hissing at the pain. No doubt she'd need to clean it properly when she reached London. She parents may insist she see a doctor.

Tink remained quiet as they drove but Wendy could sense her tension. Her hands gripped the steering wheel firmly, a hint of white spreading across her knuckles.

"I can't tell you much right now," Wendy said, looking out the window so she wouldn't meet Tink's eyes.

"I figured," she returned. "But…I'm willing to listen. You know that, right?"

Wendy did. And she was more than grateful. But she didn't want her to taint her with her sins. Tink deserved so much better than that.

Thankfully, Tink didn't breach the subject any further and they soon arrived at the airport with ample time to spare.

"Do you want me to walk in with you?" Tink inquired.

"I'm fine, thank you," Wendy said as she opened the door.

"Hold on," Tink said, undoing her seatbelt and turning to search through her back seat. Wendy was surprised when she pulled out one of Wendy's tote back, her cellphone charger poised at the overflowing bag's contents.

"I…"

"Told you I'd bring you some things," Tink finished, giving her a half smile. "I got you Wendy, no matter what."

Wendy hugged the bag closely to her, the familiar scent of her clothing causing tears to well in her eyes. And try as Wendy did, she couldn't stop them from flowing. She was sobbing before she could stop herself, harder than she had even at the hospital.

Tink allowed her a few moments to get started before she leaned in and wrapped her arms around her, allowing her to sob into her shoulder.

"It's okay," Tink said.

As she continued to release her anguish, Wendy thought perhaps she was right. She survived so much so far and Tink's compassion inspired her that she would survive this whole horror story.

She calmed finally, though Tink's comfort did not cease.

It was this comfort that allowed Wendy to believe—truly, truly believe—

She was not alone.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Felix never really knew what to make of August. He knew of his doomed relationship with Pan, knew it was just a bit more serious than some of his other trysts, but ultimately didn't survive Pan's chaotic mood and lifestyle.

Frankly, he wasn't fond of August. He hated how he'd hurt his father over and over again. Hated how casually he lived with the things he did.

But, he decided as they walked to Pan and Wendy's shared room, he had to have some decency if he went through all they had the last few days for Pan's sake. Pity his fondness was one-sided.

They entered the room the nurse below gave them, squinting in the black to see two empty and unmade beds.

"Maybe we're in the wrong room?"

Felix knew good and well they weren't. August knew it as well, but admitting to the sight before them would lead to a whole new wave of trouble.

Pan's bed was empty, his IVs thrown carelessly to the floor.

His window—fully opened—had let in a strangely warm and terrifying breeze in his absence.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Geez, I finally got Pan off that ship … but where is he now?

[lareinawrites]

“YOU CAN STILL LAY BY ME” 

Location: Dublin, Ireland 

Year: January 26, 2022

Click. Click. Click. 

That’s all Thomas could hear walking down the hallway of the hospital. The lady in front of him was wearing heels that filled the silent hallways of the psych ward. It was the last place that Thomas ever thought he’d be again, the white walls bringing him back to a time in his life when he was on the other side of this situation. It had only been a week after he had ended things with Lucius that he got the call, Joseph needed him. 

Some would call it a co-dependence, and Thomas would be the first to agree with them. Ever since they met on that fateful day back in 2010, their connection had been unwavering. His marriage to Archie did change things a bit, and Joe had decided he needed to get away. Ever since Thomas would get a letter in the mail, never knowing exactly when they would come. It was an unspoken promise between the two that they’d come if a call was made, no questions asked. 

With his life feeling like it was falling apart, Thomas had no trouble jumping on a plane and flying to Ireland. With everything he knew about Joseph’s past, he knew that this wasn’t a good sign the way the dark haired male would also feel the same if it was Thomas making the call. The nurse had pointed towards a closed door, pulling Thomas out of his daze. He gently shook out his hands, the nerves finally getting the best of him. It had been years since they last saw each other, though deep down Thomas knew that nothing would change between them. 

“Hey cowboy.” he gently spoke, pushing the door closed behind him. The room was similar to one he had been in before ever knowing Joseph. Hazel eyes glanced up at him and Thomas couldn’t stop the smile from appearing. “You’re here.” the raspiness of Joe’s voice catches him a bit off guard as he makes his way further into the room. “A promise is a promise.” It’s all Thomas can say as he pulls up a chair next to the bed. Their hands interlock almost out of pure habit, never far from each other in the past they’d somehow always end up holding hands. 

“Talk to me, how the fuck did you end up here again?” He doesn’t want to sound accusatory, but Thomas knows how Joe operates when he’s not doing well. Hazel eyes shut and the room fills with only the sound of the two breathing. Thomas waits as Joe collects his thoughts, knowing to not push the dark haired male because then he’d only shut down. “Everything is always so fucked, I was on the balcony of the hotel I normally stay at. I didn’t mean it, Lucky.” Thomas can feel his breath catch, it had been so long since he heard that nickname. 

Lucky.  

It was a nickname that Joseph had given to him after a fight had broken out at a bar, and Thomas had somehow made it out without a single hit to his face. A nickname proven to be right with other situations that he had somehow made his way out of danger just in time. He finds himself going quiet, trying to keep himself from falling into the memories of the past. “I know you didn’t, don’t ever think I’d blame you.” 

He loves him, and he always will. It pains him to admit that his love was often never enough to get Joseph to stick around. The two had been on different paths for so long, years later it was still hard to see those paths ever forging together. “I missed you though, Tommy.” Hearing that causes him to smile, giving Joe’s hand a squeeze. “Of course you missed me, I’m only the best person you’ve ever met.” Their first interaction is something that he often thinks about, and how different his life would be if they had never met. 

“Listen JoeJoe, you can’t be thinking that no one wants you around. I mean I get it, I really do cause you and I are the same. But I’m gonna tell you what you told me all those years ago, i fucking need you more than i probably need air. Life has quickly passed us by Joe, and there were moments since we last saw each other that I needed you.” he takes a breath, trying to manage all of the thoughts he has. “So anytime those dark thoughts are telling you that you’re worthless or that the world would be better off, I’m gonna need you to remember that next time those dark thoughts try to quiet the good ones.” 

Thomas leaned over to wipe the tears away that had fallen from Joe’s eyes. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be crying.” He would always lighten the mood by mentioning how pretty he thought Joe was. “Shut up you fool.” Was all he got in return, making him laugh softly. Before he could sit back down, he felt a stronger tug on his arm which pulled him down to the bed. “You know you can still lay with me.” 

This had always been true intimacy in Thomas’ eyes. It’s the only place he had ever bared his soul, and Joseph held him while he cried. Have they kissed before? Sure, but nothing physical ever felt as great as those moments in bed with Joe. It was in a shitty apartment in New York where he spoke about his sister for the first time, talked about the abuse he endured while in foster care. The words falling from his lips so easily, Joseph giving him a sense of safety that Thomas had never felt up until then. 

He knows it’s unfair of him to compare his relationship with Lucius to whatever it is he’s always had with Joseph. Lucius didn’t know about Joseph until that letter came, which is on Thomas for not opening himself up to Lucius sooner. Since the ending of his marriage to Archie, he had always kept Joseph close to his chest like if he spoke his name then it was real. 

The looks, smiles, tears. All of it would be real if Thomas spoke about him, and that would also make the heartbreak real. It’s something he’s always locked away in a box, never to be touched. Sitting there in front of Joe, it’s hard not to fall into old habits. A relationship is the last thing he needs right now, Thomas quickly reminds himself. 

“Yeah, like old times?” He questions, moving to lay next to Joe. Arms quickly wrapping around the shorter male. “I think after they let you out of here, we pack all of your shit and you come live with me. I don’t think we’re any good to anyone else without the other around. I’ll even let you pick the movies, and show me better bands to listen to.” He laughs through teary eyes, tightening his hold. “God Joe, it’s been so long. I need my best friend right now.” 

“You don’t have to say anything, I got you.” Thomas pressed a kiss to the top of Joseph’s head. The emotions were high for both of them, that much was evident when Thomas felt Joseph crying, clinging to his shirt. “Love you, Thomas.” With the room being so silent, he could hear the whispered words. 

“I love you too, Joseph.” 

[deathshallbenomore]

not me never (so far) explicitly coming out to my parents not because of fear of a potential hurtful/homophobic reaction (bless them, e grazie al cazzo because it’s the year of our lord 2022) but because I’m deeply convinced they’d react in a nice but cringe way and I don’t want to witness That. i am probably Deeply Wrong, but I am also deeply strange so

[hrwinter]

Lena placing a pair of glasses on a pillow and making out with it pretending it’s Kara

Lena’s not always this drunk. Well. Lena hasn’t historically imbibed this much after the age of 26, but her mother’s been arrested and her best friend is a liar, so what else is there to do other than look for an answer at the bottom of a very large bottle of scotch.

She’s been to three upscale bars and restaurants with Andrea, both of them reverting to their messy boarding school days almost instantaneously after the third glass, giggling in the corner and overtly hitting on men and women by sending them pretentious $24 cocktails.

But there’s still a dark streak in all the buffoonery. Lena can’t stop searching for blue eyes on the face of every blonde or broad shoulders under the lapels of every Armani jacket. She hates herself for it. And she hates Kara Danvers. Or Kara Zor-El, whatever the fuck.

Lena is pissed.

She takes another moody sip of scotch while some stock broker continues to shoot his shot (why do they all talk the same? why do they all feel the need to explain how money works to her, a billionaire?) and Andrea’s laughing and laughing at a woman far too loudly, her finger tips sloshing the edge of a martini she absolutely doesn’t need. While the man goes on about blue chip stocks, earnings per share, dividends (kill her), Lena’s eyeing the restroom.

No one would miss her if she ducked out. She could have a car here in minutes. Hell, Andrea would probably appreciate the attention of both parties at the same time. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d finagled a twosome into a threesome.

But that means going home. It means gazing at the dark sky from the cold enclave of her penthouse balcony. It means seeing the downturned photo frame, glass smashed, but still not thrown away.

God damn Kara. She stays.

She doesn’t go home with the man, and Andrea doesn’t go home with the woman. They don’t all go home together. But she and Andrea do go to another bar, and after that, an after hours bar. Then, by some misfortune of a higher power, they end up at a bratwurst stand at 4 AM with a horde of college kids. College children.

“Someone threw up just there,” Lena points at the pavement.

“Oh, don’t be such a snob!” Andrea shrieks into the night, grasping at Lena’s elbow and toying with a necklace Lena knows to cost more than a tricked out Vespa. Lena may be glassy-eyed, there may even be two of Andrea, but she can still spot irony.

“I’m starving. And I haven’t had one of these in yeaaarrrsss,” Andrea elongates as they move up a few paces in line. “Remember when we’d sneak into town and grift old men for drinks? That hot dog stand just outside of Hawthorne’s? I’ve been desperate for one.”

Lena wants to complain more, but it does smell good. And by the time they have bratwursts fisted in hand and are leaning against a nearby brick wall with the rest of the infants, Lena’s not feeling all that bad. It might be the best thing she’s ever tasted in her life. God, this might be the best she’s ever felt in her life. Numb, blitzed out of her mind, somewhere closer to nineteen sheets to the wind than three, she’s no longer a Luthor, no longer a simpering fool to a Super’s lies, not a CEO or a disappointment or even a person. She’s just a presence existing on this curb, eating a bratwurst.

“I’m having an out of body experience,” she tells Andrea with half her mouth full and still swallowing.

“That good, huh?” Andrea has mustard on her chin.

“I want another.”

Lena glances up, and her visions tunnels. Her existence is whittled down even further, to its basest instinct. She’s become the singular pursuit of a thousand more calories, of another bratwurst. Lena surges into the street, the stand a beacon of light in the darkness.

But several things happen at once. There’s a screech of tires, the smash of metal, what feels like getting hit with a brick wall and then being shot out of a circus canon.

Lena finds herself throwing up on the pavement on the other side of the road, and Kara fucking Danvers yelling at a motorist. The guy has gotten out of his car, hood dented and engine smoking.

“You smashed my car!”

“You almost hit a woman! You could’ve killed her!”

“She just bolted into the street, that’s not my fault!”

“PEDESTRIANS HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY!” Kara shouts back.

“Hey!” Lena slurs, having regained her dignity by wiping her mouth clean of vomit. It’s called class.

Both the guy and Kara turn to look at her, but her eyes are trained on Kara.

“I don’t need your help,” she tells her with a point of her finger.

This feels very witty. The pinnacle of sass. So what if she’s lost a heel at some point and may have missed a bit of vomit in her hair. She’s the one in control.

The guy’s eyes narrow.

“Are you blind or something? Didn’t your mom teach you to look both ways before you walk into the street?”

At the mention of Lena’s mother, her eyes narrow, she sways dangerously.

“You’re fired.”

“What?” the guy rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time for this.” He whips out his cell phone. “You’ve got insurance right?”

“Um, yeah,” Kara hands him a card, but she’s quick to come to Lena’s side, to place a steadying hand on her shoulder. Lena tries to wiggle away from it like a petulant child.

“Stop it!”

Kara ignores her.

“Lena, I didn’t want to say it around him,” Kara cups a blocking hand over her mouth and points at the guy so he can’t see.

It’s so adorable and infuriating.

She stage whispers, “But you were jaywalking! And you could’ve been hit by a car. What’re you even doing out here?”

Lena rolls her eyes so hard, she might’ve just incurred permanent damage.

“I’m an adult, Supergirl, and I don’t need an escort--”

Lena’s very mature tirade is interrupted by Andrea crossing the street, mouth still wide open and staring. The look she’s giving Kara is distinctly not platonic, and the look she’s giving Lena is one of deepest intrigue. Her eyes scan the pair of them, their body language, the way Kara’s hand is still on Lena’s shoulder (hadn’t she shaken that off?), and smirks.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Lena could kill her.

“Be quiet, Drea!”

Andrea dissolves into snorts, and Kara glances between the two of them, a look of recognition passing over her face. Now Lena wants to hurl herself into traffic for real.

Kara opens her mouth to speak, but Lena waves a hand in front of her nose.

“Just--everyone shut up and take me home.”

And the route Lena wants to be taken home is clear when she swats at Kara’s (firm) bicep (to push her away, of course), and that swat accidentally turns into a posessive squeeze.

“Oh, can I come, too?” Andrea purrs, and Kara’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“No!” Lena barks at her.

“Fine, fine! Call me tomorrow!” Andrea waves, and like some sort of rich superpower, she’s already getting into the back of a sleek black car.

“Okay, Lena,” Kara hushes against her head. It’s too soft and caring, and Lena wants to push her away. But she doesn’t. (Mainly because standing is feeling like quite a complex task, and she doesn’t have the balance for it.)

“This’ll only take a second.” 

Then, Lena’s wrapped in a warm and solid embrace. It’s nice... before everything blurs, and she has the distinct desire to vomit again.

She never wants another bratwurst.

In the very next moment, she’s being gingerly placed on her balcony, and Lena’s surging out of Kara’s grasp and pressing her face against the cold glass of her balcony sliding door. It feels amazing, calming her stomach down by degrees.

“What’re you doing?”

“Oh,” Lena says. Maybe she’d been doing that for a bit too long.

She runs her hands over the glass in an attempt to open the door, heavily petting various keypads and biometric scanners. Nothing happens. She scratches at the glass like a raccoon desperate to be inside.

“Um, isn’t it over there?” Kara indicates a different keypad to the left.

“I don’t need your help!” Lena shouts before following her instructions exactly. The door opens. She grumbles inside.

Unaware and uncaring, Lena starts undressing in her living room the very moment she’s crossed the threshhold, discarding her shirt, her skirt this way and that. There’s a gasp behind her and another suspicious super speeding sound, but she ignores Kara. She paces into her bedroom to strip off her bra and grab an oversized shirt. After, she spread eagles on her bed.

“I, um, brought you a glass of water.”

Lena cracks an eye open, takes in the sight of Kara standing at her bedside, nervous and uncertain, glass of water extended between them like some sort of peace offering.

She groans loudly and sits up to snatch it from her, water sloshing onto her bare legs. She doesn’t register it, draining it dry, glaring at Kara over the edge of the glass the entire time.

The Super pulls at her fingers.

“What’re you doing here?” Lena rasps, rolling the empty glass onto her exquisite and overpriced comforter.

“You were in trouble, Lena.”

“You don’t care about me.”

“Yes, I do.”

Lena scoffs, completely undignified, a sound appropriate for an elementary school playground. She does it again because it feels good. Kara’s eyebrows pinch.

Lena swivels at the waist and plucks her reading glasses off her bedside table. She places them over one of her giant, California King-sized pillows.

“Oh, Kara, there you are!” she says, squeezing it’s sides together like she’s cupping its cheeks. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you in a pair of glasses!”

Kara’s brows furrow deeper, not amused.

“How did I not see that the kindness, the sincerity, the insistence that I was not just another Luthor was a total act!” she continues to talk to it.

“It wasn’t an act--”

Lena brings the pillow close in her arms.

“Stopping by to bring me lunch, complimentary puff pieces, spin class, game nights. You’re so sweeeeeet,” she elongates, squeezing the pillow tight. “And beautiful. You know what you deserve? A kiss.”

Surely, this bit has spiraled out of Lena’s control. This entire night has. And were she sober enough to realize it, she’d catch herself before this next part. But she’s not and she’s wasted. And this pillow is the Kara she used to know, the Kara Lena used to pine for unconditionally, fantasizing what it might be like to just, lean over and...

She loses her balance as she places a wet one just under the glasses of her pillowcase and falls over on top of it. Incidentally, it’s the perfect size for snuggling, just like Kara herself, and her eyes flutter closed, warm and content.

“I’ll--I’ll go,” she hears a voice say.

“Kara?” Lena mumbles, face down in her pillow and not long for this world.

“Yeah?”

“I lo--I mean, I hate you.”

Kara sighs.

“I love you too, Lena.”

[froggie-recs-fics]

Fic Roundup (up to 9/26/21)

I'm gonna start collecting fics I've read recently to recommend them, because making trope lists takes too long and many fics fall by the wayside. Let me know if you like this new format!

The fandoms in this list are as follows: Marvel (SamBucky, HTP, SpideyPool, WinterHawk, WinterIron, Stony, Stucky, SpiderShield), DCU (Bane/Blake), Inception (Arthur/Eames), Teen Wolf (Sterek).

A * signifies a particular favorite (though I love all these fics)

Marvel

Sam/Bucky

double back by flowermasters (E, 12K, Post-Endgame, Time Loop, Time Travel)

Sam gets stuck in a time loop. In 1943.

Things could be worse, but they could certainly be better.

Companion piece here: quick time

I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot (Post-Endgame, E, 50K, Sam can talk to birds)

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Rumlow/Bucky

**blueprints for a better world series by itallstartedwithdefenestration @astralhux (CATWS, Post-CATWS, Noncon, E, 115K, Dark Main Character)

When Pierce discovers the asset is no longer capable of getting himself hard during recreational use, he tells Rumlow to figure out what the problem is, and to fix it. The solution turns out to be more complicated than anyone expected.

I can't recommend this series enough

Peter/Wade

*Dead Men Walking series by doctorestranged @lazystrawberrymilkshakes (E, 235K, Identity Porn, Slow Burn)

When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.

All About Chemistry by TwiceBakedPotato @sedatedkoala (No Powers AU, M, CNTW, 74K, Teacher-Student Relationship, Slow Build)

After serving his 20 years in the Marine Corps, Wade Wilson is cashing in his GI Bill and going back to college. He feels like the old man on campus, but that doesn't matter. He likes his classes. He likes learning. And he especially likes his Chemistry professor with the messy brown hair.

Clint/Bucky

Making Me A Habit by Kangofu_CB @kangofu-cb (No Powers AU, T, 20K, Pet Store, Slow Burn, Pining, Misunderstandings)

Bucky is a disabled vet struggling with reintegrating into civilian life. He has a routine and a rhythm, and he doesn't like to let anything - big or small - disrupt it. That all changes the day Bucky finds himself inside CATastrophe, the local pet rescue, recovering from a panic attack in the back room of the shop.

He’s used to walking by the place, not visiting, but the next thing Bucky knows, he’s hanging signs and being used as a climbing tree for a bunch of freshly-acquired kittens. And he just...keeps going back. First for the kittens, then for the disaster shop owner who rescues actual kittens from actual trees and teaches archery as a side-gig, and eventually because he’s hopelessly in love.

(Clint was in love before Bucky ever walked in the door.)

*Nameless by AvaKelly (Post-CATWS, M, 101K, Time Travel, Time Loop, Slow Burn)

A gun is pointed at him before he can even move from his position, the Soldier's metal arm steady in its aim. Clint sighs.

"Nemo," Clint says. "It's tattooed on your wrist, right here," he lifts his right hand and taps his left index finger where his palm ends.

The Soldier's eyes widen. "How do you know this?"

"I put it there."

Glitter, G-Strings and Other Mission Hazards by flawedamythyst @flawedamythyst (T, 16K, Undercover, Stripper Clint)

“Which is why you need me to shake my booty for cash,” said Clint.

“Precisely,” said Coulson. “You’re the only agent we have who wouldn’t need additional training in the skills of an exotic dancer to take on the mission, and we want to get someone in there as soon as possible.”

Clint nodded, shutting the file. “Okay, awesome. I’ll dig out my sequined g-string.”

“You’ll have full access to requisition any costumes you might need,” said Coulson.

A mission requires Bucky to be Clint's back-up as he goes undercover as a stripper, which gets more difficult with every new costume he comes out in.

Paternal Error by EVVS @skylarkevanson (Post-CATWS, T, 33K, Kid Fic, Established Relationship)

Bucky has never once thought of being a parent. Not since the Winter Solider happened.

Until he falls in love with Clint Barton. And that idiot just keeps collecting children for his flock.

Now Bucky has to pretend like he's good at parenting.

Bucky/Tony

Forms of Love by bear_bell (Post-CACW, E, 33K, Split Personalities)

Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Steve/Tony

While You Were Sleeping by betheflame @betheflame (No Powers AU, M, 65K, While You Were Sleeping AU)

It's been years since Steve Grant Rogers Drysdale has spoken to his twin, Ransom. So it was quite a shock when he was summoned to a hospital and found out that Ransom was in a coma.

Even more shocking? That Ransom is engaged. To Tony Stark.

Steve/Bucky

The Road Goes Ever On And On by PipGraham (Omegaverse AU, M, Noncon, Graphic Violence, 20K, Road Trip, Pre-Serum Steve, Past Domestic Violence)

When Brock's continued domestic abuse puts not only Steve's life in danger, but also that of his unborn pup, he flees into the night with just a small backpack of clothes and almost no money to his name.

Steve quickly runs into trouble as he tries to embark on a 3-day cross-country bus journey back home to New York City.

He meets a kind veteran when he most needs a helping hand.

Just Words by LadyRazzle (crimegimp) @ladyrazzle (Pre-CATFA, Soulmate AU, T, 2K, Fluff)

Inspired by that now legendary post: "soulmate AU where you wake up on your 18th birthday with the first words your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body so you’ll know them when you meet them." Well what if they appear the moment you turn 18, rather than just the day? And what if by the time you turn 18, you'd already fallen in love?

Bucky wasn’t eager to discover what the words said. He already knew what he wanted them to say. He always had.

Peter/Steve

Forgetting It's There by spinstitcher (stygian) (NR, 8K, Crack, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn)

“You’re Captain America,” he blurts out.

“What?” says Captain America, looking a little wide-eyed. He casts a nervous glance at the girl at the counter – he has nothing to worry about there, she’s rocking out to her iPod and could care less what they’re talking about – and says, “No, uh, Steve, it’s just, I’m Steve.”

“Right,” says Peter, and then because his brain-to-mouth filter had apparently been completely destroyed in the fight on Oscorp Tower: “Hey, your butt really is as tight as it looks on TV.”

DCU

Bane/Blake

7 Deadly Ass(as)sins by teacuphuman @teacuphuman09 (AU, E, 23K, BDSM)

Bane and Barsad own a sex shop and John needs a job.

Straws by Menirva (Bane/Blake/Barsad, AU, E, 38K, BDSM)

John works in a smoothie shop.

He has a knack, a second sense if you will, for being able to look at a person and know what they're going to order. It's not the most spectacular gift in the world but he likes being able to figure people out and he's never wrong.

Except for this scruffy asshole who is clearly just ordering the wrong thing to fuck with him.

How is he even finishing an extra-large?

Inception

Aurthur/Eames

Rough Trade by Whisky (whiskyrunner) @whiskyrunner (AU, E, 23K, Internalized Homophobia)

Arthur is an investment banker. He is professional and efficient. He's a halfway decent cook. He's totally independent and has been since the age of eighteen. Maybe he's tired all the time because he works about ninety hours a week which is twice what normal people do, but he's rich and he's competent at his job. He's almost thirty, and already a success.

And there are some things Arthur is not. For instance: Arthur is not gay.

Lucky by earlgreytea68 @earlgreytea68 (M, 37K, Kid fic)

Arthur finds a baby.

Teen Wolf

Stiles/Derek

Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress (Omegaverse AU, E, 112K, Secret Relationship, Enemies to Lovers kinda)

“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”

The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”

Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”

Cornerstone by Vendelin (Human AU, E, 83K, Marine Derek, Blind Stiles, Friends to Lovers)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach (AU, Graphic Violence, E, 76K, Captivity, Feral Derek)

"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope (Sports AU, E, 83K, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers)

Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.

But then he meets Stiles.

[shredsfists]

my favorite lyrics from every song in the mitski mix on spotify

1. nobody by mitski: did its people want too much too?

2. skate witches by teen suicide: and i can’t be someone else

3. class of 2013 by mitski: and then we can forget

4. looking out for you by joy again: when we should be talking about ourselves

5. washing machine heart by mitski: why not me?

6. dylan thomas by better oblivion community center: the truth is anybody’s guess

7. last words of a shooting star by mitski: they’ll think of me kindly when they get my things

8. new flash by current joys: gonna stay right here until i die

9. strawberry blond by mitski: i love it when you look my way

10. hayloft by mother mother: young lovers with their legs tied up in knots

11. shame by mitski: and they don’t know how it feels so good

12. doing all the things i used to do with people, part 2 by teen suicide: this is not a song about sleep or death

13. francis forever by mitski: i don’t know where to put my hands

14. couldn’t by joy again: stretch my arms so wide that i can’t hardly breathe

15. me and my husband by mitski: in the corner taking up space

16. sleepwalkin’ by better oblivion community center: but fight until the death keeps us alive

17. pink in the night by mitski: can i try again?

18. blondie by current joys: you’re not a person, you’re my friend

19. liquid smooth by mitski: come touch me too

20. arms tonite by mother mother: i cry hard because i have died

21. eric by mitski: it cries a soft weep like mine

22. falling in love by teen suicide: i could have fallen down in the yard

23. brand new city by mitski: i think my blood is passing me by

24. kim by joy again: you will find me all the time i’m lonely

25. i want you by mitski: ‘cause i just need a quiet place

26. didn’t know what i was in for by better oblivion community center: we get burned for being honest

27. your best american girl by mitski: your mother wouldn’t approve of how my mother raised me

28. kids by curent joys: i only use my heart

29. townie by mitski: i am not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be

30. burning pile by mother mother: if i, catch fire then i’ll take my turn

31. a pearl by mitski: nobody told me it ended

32. im so fucking bored by teen suicide: i won’t matter now

33. real men by mitski: and oh, i’m gonna be a real man

34. sorry you didn’t get to kiss that boy you wanted to kiss by joy again: i’m not expensive, i’m worthless

35. goodbye, my danish sweetheart by mitski: i’m not the girl i ought to be

36. service road by better oblivion community center: don’t state your name, that doesn’t count

37. first love / late spring by mitski: please don’t say you love me

38. american honey by current joys: but it burns in your stomach

39. a burning hill by mitski: and you are not there at all

40: wrecking ball by mother mother: it takes a dedicated hand to put it through the wall

41. two slow dancers by mitski: we get a few years and then it wants us back

42. worthless by teen suicide: i wanna be happy, i want you to be happy too

43. humpty by mitski: and i’m sorry for taking but i keep wanting

44. necromancer by joy again: you can call me and tell me if you’re ok

45. once more to see you by mitski: if you would let me give you pinky promise kisses

46. little trouble by better oblivion community center: your heartbreak’s not your own anymore

47. cop car by mitski: i don’t think about the past, it’s always there anyway

48. become the warm jets by current joys: or just enough so i can go to sleep

49. crack baby by mitski: went to your room thinking maybe you’ll feel something

50. sick of the silence by mother mother: it says look at your life, sucker, you’re just floating

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 26 – A Bird is Never Late

Chapter 1     Chapter 25

“Two sentries at the door, reporting in regularly. As soon as they miss a check in, they’re going to know we’re here,” Red Robin observed quietly.

“Uncanny, can you record their check ins?” Chat asked.

“I can next time they do it and play it back when it is time if I have their radios,” Uncanny confirmed.

“Perfect,” Spoiler grinned.

“Are you in their security?” Snowflake asked.

“Yes.  Everything is looped.  We can sneak in without them seeing on the cameras.  I can’t break into the radios though,” Uncanny reported.

“We’ll just have to try to get them before they are able to send out an alert,” Signal shrugged.  

“Have you located Marinette?” Nightwing asked.  The anxiety in his voice and tightness in his stance was clear even if everyone present hadn’t had training in observation.

“I haven’t.  I don’t think they have her on security camera,” Uncanny shook her head in confusion.

Snowflake tapped Uncanny to let her know it was time to record the sentries, then signaled the rest when Uncanny confirmed she had it.

As soon as they got the signal, the group went into action.  Red Robin and Red Hood dropped behind the sentries and knocked them out quickly.  They grabbed their radios and passed them off to Uncanny.  “Everyone split up in groups of two.  Chat, you’re with me.  Everyone goes in a different direction.  Snowflake and Uncanny, you stay here until we call you.  I need Uncanny focusing on security, see if there’s another video system that might have Marinette.  Snowflake, I want you with her and available when we face a talon.  Anyone finds Marinette, report in immediately,” Batman instructed.  “Anyone gets into trouble, report it.  Anyone finds a talon, call in Snowflake immediately.  Let’s go.”

Everyone looked to one another and gave a determined nod.  This was for family, both Marinette and the twins were family.  They were not going to allow anything to happen to any of them and they were willing to do whatever they had to do in order to protect them. They paired off and went in separate directions without another word.

Somehow, they were extremely lucky and they seemed to miss all the guards doing their rounds, not that there were many.  As Batman had predicted, they hadn’t been expecting anyone to find them so quickly and their guard wasn’t fully up yet. They were able to make it deeply into the building with only having faced a few owls.

After about thirty minutes, Red Hood’s voice finally broke the silence over the coms.  “Fuck… Take a look at this Oracle.  What do you think is in the capsules?”

“Scanning now,” Oracle reported.  It only took a few minutes to come back with an answer. “People, or people shaped figures.”

Red Hood grimaced at the answer.  It was exactly what he feared.  “Talons?”

“Could be,” Oracle hedged.  “There does appear to be a lot of electrum in the bodies. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

“There’s hundreds…” Red Hood trailed off aghast at the idea.  If they woke these guys up, his team wouldn’t stand a chance.  They’d be dead in seconds.  Not to mention, even if they saved Marinette and the babies, the Court of Owls didn’t take failure well, they would retaliate.  Marinette and the twins would never be safe.  “Snowflake, can you make your way to my location?  I think it would be a good idea to blast this room before they activate any of these guys.”

“Affirmative.  On my way with Uncanny,” she answered quickly.

<><><><><> 

Robin opened the door to the next hallway carefully. With the door made of solid metal, there was no way to see if anyone was in the hallway except to actually enter it.  He froze when he saw partially concealed movement on the far side of the hallway. His eyes flicked up as a blur of red appeared and disappeared.  He studied the scene to try to ascertain if the movement was Marinette or a threat, easing into a fighting stance.  

But with his focus entirely on the movement ahead, the missed the thick, wooden plank heading for him from the other side until he heard wood shattering above him.  He jumped up into a flip to escape the attack.  Unfortunately, the attacker threw the remainder of the plank at him, hitting him mid flip, knocking him off balance, and gouging his skin.  He landed in a crouch ready to launch into a counter attack, but paused at finally being able to see the attacker.

“Shit!  Robin. Sorry!  I keep hurting you guys.  But, thank God you’re so short or that first swing would have caught you full in the face.” Her eyes bugged out when she realized she had just insulted him. “I mean…”

“Marinette…” he looked at her amazed for a moment before touching the blood running down his face and examining it in surprise.  He shook his head and tapped the com in his ear. “I have her.  I have Marinette.”

“How is she?” Nightwing asked in a frantic tone.

“She looks in good health and well trained.  I see three owls knocked out on the ground in the hallway behind her.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m pregnant not incapacitated,” she gave him an insulted look.  “I may not be able to run but I can stab someone or swing a bat, or batlike object in this case.  In fact, I have more mass behind my swing now.”

“Stab someone?” Robin asked with a raised eyebrow. That was not an answer he would have expected from her.

“They had knives.  Now they don’t.  I wanted something in case I got taken,” she shrugged.  “And I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave them with weapons they could use if they woke up.”

Robin nodded in approval.  “Smart.  Of course since they were looking for Grayson’s children, you could have always just informed them that yours are not in fact Grayson’s.

Marinette nodded at him, keeping her eyes on the hallway behind them.  “I considered that.  But it seemed like there were only two likely outcomes to that.  First, they believe me and kill me immediately, also killing the babies.  Or, second, they decide to make sure and take a blood sample before they’re born and confirm that they are in fact Dick’s.  So all that would have bought me was death or endangering the babies, because I don’t believe they would have been all that careful in taking the blood.”

Robin stared at her analytically for a few seconds as if seeing her for the first time.  “Less talking more moving,” Batman instructed gruffly over the coms.  “Snowflake, if you could make your way to my location, Chat and I could use your help, immediately.”

“I’m making my way to you, Robin,” Nightwing reported.

“Let’s get you out of here before you go into labor,” Robin told her.  “I’m not delivering any babies.”

“What?  Not looking forward to an upfront introduction to reproductive organs?” Red Robin laughed.

“I have had an extensive education on reproduction. I’m just not looking forward to seeing my… I’m just not looking to put my education into action.” Robin corrected quickly.

“Stay behind me,” Robin directed Marinette already moving back into the hallway he came from.  Marinette nodded and rushed to catch up, keeping an eye behind them, knowing Robin couldn’t.

They reached a corner and Robin motioned for her to stop. She pushed herself against the wall behind him as he listened for signs of movement in the other corridor.  He motioned to her that he heard two people coming and to stay back.  She nodded in understanding and tried to press even further into the wall as though there was any way to hide with her belly bulging as far out as it was.

The two figures passed their hallway, barely glancing in their direction before doing a double take, clearly not having expected to see anyone there.  Robin took advantage of their momentary hesitation, attacking both at the same time. He sent a flying kick to the first owl, sending him into the wall.  He quickly pivoted to the second owl.  He sent a series of jabs to his side.  The owl bent over in pain.  Robin roundhouse kicked him in the face, sending him into the wall.  The first owl tried to sneak up on him but Robin ducked at the last second.  He spun quickly knocking his legs out from under him.

Marinette watched in awe for a few seconds.  Robin was a whirlwind of punches and kicks. Fast and effective.  She turned to check behind them while he punched the second owl and let out a surprised gasp.  Three more had snuck up on them while Robin had been fighting.  The third owl grabbed her, holding her by the neck while the other two moved to attack Robin.  Marinette stopped struggling against him.  She wasn’t going to win a battle of strength or speed right now. But she didn’t need strength.  She had steel.

She slipped one of the knives she’d taken from the owls earlier and stabbed behind her catching the owl in the side.  He immediately let go falling as he grabbed his side, gasping for wet sounding breaths.  Marinette kicked him in the face and turned back to the other two owls who hadn’t noticed she was free yet.  She pulled the next two knives out of her boots.  The fourth owl was about to strike Robin.  Marinette threw the knife hitting him in the head with the hilt of the knife.  The owl held his head and spun toward her.

She gave him a strained smile.  “Need to work on that,” she offered weakly.

The owl shook his head and moved toward her while the fifth owl attacked Robin.  Robin got into a fighting stance, eyes darting to the owl moving toward Marinette. He snapped his eyes back to the owl advancing on him.  Marinette groaned and curled over grabbing her stomach.  “You have got to be kidding!” she groaned breathing heavily.

“Oh, come on!” Robin exclaimed almost losing his focus on the owl in front of him.

The owl moving toward her grinned and reached for her. When he was next to her, closer than an arm’s length away, Marinette shot up, driving the knife into the owl. The owl gasped, looking at her confused. Marinette punched his face, sending him sideways.  Robin, having already dispatched his owl, followed her punch with a kick, knocking him out.

“Are you okay?  Was that a contraction?”  A look of fear that hadn’t been there while fighting the owls, had now settled on his face.

“No, thankfully.  Hopefully I didn’t tempt fate though.” She grimaced at the thought. Their doctor actually thought it was extremely likely she would deliver any time now and this was not where she wanted to go into labor.

“Oh thank God!” He let out a relieved sigh.  “So you used your precarious situation to feign weakness?”

“Yes… I wanted him to lower his guard,” she said like it was obvious.

Robin stared at her for a few seconds again before nodding in approval.  “Adequate.” They both spun in the other direction when a figure ran into the hallway.

“Marinette!” Nightwing yelled running to her.  He ran up and hugged her tightly before pulling away just enough to check her for injuries.  “Are you okay?  How are the babies?  Are you sure that wasn’t a contraction?  The doctor said five weeks early wasn’t unlikely.”

Marinette stood stock straight.  “Um… fine.  I’m fine. Uh… Nightwing, right?” she asked awkwardly.

Dick immediately backed away.  “Yes.  Nightwing. That’s me.  Right.”  He forgot he hadn’t told her yet because Jason had called it from the beginning, he was a fucking dumbass.  His eyes caught on a large patch of red on her sweater.  “You’re bleeding!”  He moved closer again to examine her.

Marinette gave him a confused look and examined her sweater for what he was seeing.  Finally she saw the blood.  “Oh, that’s not mine.”  She gave him a sheepish look.  “There’s a few people that could belong to and none of them are me or Robin.”

Nightwing blinked at her a few times, unsure how to respond to that.  “Less talking, more moving,” Batman reminded him over the coms.

“Right.  Let’s get going.”  He took her hand and gently pulled her behind him as he moved.  Robin naturally fell into position behind her, watching their rear.

They seem to have had luck on their side once more. They made it to the lobby of the building with only a few more owls finding them, but that is where their luck ran out.  They could see the exit doors when a talon stepped in their way, standing between them and the doors.  Other owls entered the room, surrounding them.  The three took in the scene apprehensively.  “I estimate fifty owls and a talon,” Robin said conversationally, informing the rest of their team what was happening.

“Odd to only have one talon on call,” Nightwing agreed with a forced casualness.

“I’ve already taken care of one,” Batman rasped into the coms.

“Robin, you’re on protection duty,” Nightwing said quietly enough that only he and Marinette could hear.

“Of course,” Damian scoffed.

“We’re coming.  Black Bat and I should be there in a few minutes,” Red Robin reported.

“We cannot let you take the Gray Son,” the talon spoke gravely.

“The Gray Son?” Nightwing asked, face scrunching in confusion.

“The prophesied one.  Her child will be the perfect talon.  He is the true heir,” the talon continued.  Robin stiffened at his words, his stern expression tightening further. “The Gray Son of Gotham.”

Nightwing narrowed his eyes at the talon.  They were after his children?  They were going to try to turn his children into one of them?  How dare they?  Maybe the children should take Marinette’s last name.  There is the slightest possibility that might deter them.  He mentally shook his head.  That was unlikely and there was something else strange about the situation.  “The Court usually waits to take children until they’re older.  Why take these before they were born?”

“The recent failure forced us to ramp up our plan. The Court decided to start training the Gray Son in our ways as soon as he was born, to bring him to his destiny as early as possible,” the talon explained calmly, tightening his grip on his knives and subtly assessing the group.

“And what about the Gray Daughter?” Nightwing asked with a hostile edge in his voice, taking note of the number of weapons the talon appeared to have.  Likely he had more, but the ones on display would give him an insight into what else he might have.  He also took in how the other owls acted, their stances, their sense of hierarchy, their weapons.

“Of no consequence.  We likely would have killed her along with her mother.  You may keep them if that satisfies you,” the talon offered with a flippant tone.

“Sexist assholes,” Spoiler muttered over the coms.

Nightwing hummed in consideration, discretely looking around the room as he did.  “I think we’ll leave with all three.”

“Then you’ll leave with none!” The talon launched at Nightwing.  Robin pulled Marinette out of the way as Nightwing leapt toward him to block his way to Marinette.

Marinette tried to watch Nightwing fight the talon but couldn’t focus on him.  Robin was pulling and pushing her around so she was out of the way of punches and kicks that might have connected with her.  Luckily or not, they were aided by the deference the owls showed to the talon, giving him wide berth to attack and kill Nightwing.  That left the space behind Robin and Marinette open, but it also meant that every time the owls pushed them back, it pushed Marinette closer to the talon.

Robin and Marinette kept an eye behind them. Marinette stayed as close to Robin as she could without infringing on his fighting too much.  She had to stay away from the owls so they couldn’t grab her and take her to a different stronghold.  She grabbed one owl’s arm when he tried to pull her, twisting to trap his arm and ramming her elbow into it with enough force to break his arm. The owl recoiled and Robin finished her attack.  Unfortunately, that left her other side open, an opening that the other owls didn’t hesitate to take.  Marinette screamed when the owl took her, alerting Robin to the new threat.

However, the scream also attracted Nightwing’s attention, distracting him from his fight with the talon.  The talon launched at him, ripping into his skin with his claws. Nightwing let out a muffled cry, but pushed down the pain.  He didn’t have time for pain right now.  He had to protect Marinette.  The talon would take advantage of any distraction, as he already had.  He had to focus entirely on taking down the talon and trust his team to protect Marinette and his twins.

Marinette struggled against the owl that was pulling her away, but Robin just smirked at him and punched the owl next to him without looking.  Marinette furrowed her brow in confusion until she felt the arms around her loosen and heard the owl fall to the ground.  She turned to see Red Robin pick up the owl and throw him at the other owls.

“You’re late,” Robin snarked, turning back to fight more owls.  

“A Red Robin is never late.  He always arrives precisely when he means to,” Red Robin answered lightly.

“Nerd,” Stephanie scoffed into the coms.

“Well, he should have meant to arrive a while ago,” Robin growled.

“Eh.  You were holding your own.  And Marinette’s been covering for your mistakes.  You were fine,” Red Robin answered with a smirk as he hit several owls in one swing of his Bo staff.

“Besides,” Spoiler added, flying over the heads of a few more owls to land on the other side of Robin.  “This isn’t the only part of the building with owls.”  She punctuated her comment with a few well-placed kicks and swipes with her Bo staff.  

There was quite a bit of jostling, but Marinette had mostly been isolated from the attacks.  The few owls that made it through the line were off balance, just barely making it through and making them an easy target.  It was easy enough for Marinette to punch or kick them hard enough to make them fall and vulnerable to one of the other heroes.  

Signal worked from the side of the room to take down more owls, moving quickly and efficiently from one to the next and back again, using each as leverage to push harder against the other, adding power to his hits with his Eskrima sticks.  Black Bat arrived in the room from another direction and made quick work of taking down the owls in front of her.

Marinette looked up when she heard a yell from Signal to ice the room.  She did a double take seeing Snowflake blow into the room, making it freezing.  She gaped at the sight.  What was Snowflake doing in Gotham?  Her eyes caught back on the fight between Nightwing and the talon. It seemed like the frost was affecting them both.  She quickly glanced around the room and noticed the movements from the rest of the room slowing down slightly as well.  Reaction times reducing little by little, but it especially seemed to have an impact on the talon.  His entire fighting style changed.  He was more guarded now, more protected, more afraid of getting hurt, giving Nightwing an advantage.

Marinette jumped when a body landed next to her.  She had been so distracted by Nightwing’s fight, she hadn’t even seen him approach.  She lunged to punch him, but the figure twisted along her arm.  “My Lady!” He exclaimed loudly, holding up his arms in a placating manner.  

“Chat!” Marinette gave a relieved cry and pulled him down into a quick hug.  She pulled back to notice he was wearing his ice form, which made sense if he was the one to bring in Snowflake.  He had anticipated the change.

“You’re here!  And you brought friends.”  She grinned at him, pulling her back into a hug.

“Could have been a lot more too if someone hadn’t hid the glasses.” He gave her a playfully scornful look that quickly turned into an analytical one.  “You seem a bit less affected by the cold than I would have anticipated, Bug.”

She gave a devious look.  “Wayne Enterprises tech fabric.  Can’t even feel the cold except on my face, honestly.  Plus,” she added innocently, “it’s impervious to fire. That seemed valuable in Gotham. Wouldn’t save me from the blast force from the explosion but would save me from any fires created… like if a cult’s building got blown up.”  She gave him a serious look.  “Not that I’m suggesting you cataclysm an entire building, of course.”

“Of course,” he gave her a conspiratorial grin.

“Plagg on the other hand…” she trailed off, letting him finish the sentence himself.

Chat nodded in understanding and looked around them, calculatingly.  “Okay, this party has been fun, but honestly, not my scene.  Ready to take our leave?”  He looked at her again, focusing on her stomach.  “This is going to be a bit more awkward than it used to be but… need a ride?” he grinned at her opening his arms.

Marinette smiled and let him pick her up.  He was right.  It was a lot more difficult than it used to be due to her belly bur they made it work.  She could hold on if it meant the difference between her babies living and dying.  She held onto his shoulders while he extended his baton taking them in a high arc, well above the owls, to the doors.

The talon growled and pulled out darts that could incapacitate them.  Before he could use them Nightwing twisted in front of him, slamming an Eskrima stick into his hand hard enough to break it followed by his other Eskrima stick hitting him in the face.  The talon hid his groan of pain and launched at him again with his good hand and his arm. His hand may be useless right now, but the rest of him could fight.  He swung at Nightwing in a series of calculated punches that forced him back closer to the crowd of owls.  Nightwing caught a glimpse of Marinette and Chat making it through the door and felt a new surge of strength.  He looked back at the talon and launched into a volley of kicks and hits with the Eskrima sticks.

He pushed the talon back until he was on his knees, hitting him one final time to knock him out.  He turned back toward the front doors and took off running to find Marinette. With the talon taken care of, there were only a few more owls standing and his family could handle them.  He could trust his team.  He had to focus on his family.  But, with his focus on Marinette, he missed the talon sit up and aim a knife at him with his good hand.

A flash of light bathed the room in red for a moment. The talon seemed to be frozen for a moment until he moved in slow motion looking down at his chest and back up again just in time to see Nightwing run through the doors.  His strength left him a second later, as he collapsed on the floor, unable to regenerate.  

Uncanny Valley watched impassively as he fell.  Batman looked at her in shock.  She looked back with a questioning look.  “He was like the others wasn’t he?  Like the ones in the capsules I destroyed?  He wasn’t human.  He doesn’t have blood.  He was designed to destroy.”

Snowflake came up next to her and patted her on the shoulder as Signal knocked out the last owl standing.  “You did good,” she whispered to Uncanny.  She looked back at the bats.  “Do you need us for anything else?  I think I should get Uncanny back to her mom.  I think she’ll need to talk.”

Batman stepped forward with a kind smile.  “I think we can handle it from here.  Thank you for your help.  I don’t know if we would have been able to do it without you.”

Uncanny gave him a bright smile.  “You’re welcome.”  Snowflake nodded to them and guided Uncanny out the door with her.

“What did she mean he was like the others,” Red Robin wondered still watching the door they left through.

“She meant the room of talons waiting to be activated. I had Elsa freeze the room and Uncanny destroy each of the caskets and the talons inside with her beam thing,” Jason answered.  “I confirmed the things inside won’t ever come back no matter how much electrum they give them.”

They all snapped to attention when Chat walked back through the doors.  “Where is Marinette?  Are she and the babies safe?” Spoiler asked.

“Of course they’re safe, idiot.  Chat wouldn’t have left her unless she was safe and Nightwing had her,” Damian scoffed.

Chat gave a quick nod of agreement.  “Like the little man said.  She’s safe and with Nightwing.”  He looked around with a practiced nonchalance.  “So… how do bats feel about demolition with a single touch?” He asked waggling his eyebrows.

Chapter 27

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop

[anthropwashere]

thank u for the tags yelling at us youths to sit up straight. im only 23 but disabled and my back is about the only part of me that ISNT fucked up yet, so i will attempt to not destroy my spinal cord in your honor (•̀ᴗ•́)و

Gonna take this as an opportunity to go off on a tangent and emphasize how out of nowhere your health can 180 in ways that will have a lasting impact for the rest of your life, and that this can happen at any moment no matter how careful or healthy you try to be

-I grew up poor enough to not have regular access to medical/dental/etc. for years at a time, avoided serious issues by sheer fucking luck and an extended family that did not sign up to raise another kid but thank christ they stepped up for me.

-managed to stay healthy enough to join the Air Force at 18. this was good news because the alternative was being homeless (again), which gosh got old fast. free medical? fuck yeah, uncle sam! my teeth are a mess and it sure would be nice to have glasses again!

-knees started acting up in BMT. slowly got worse as the years passed. haven't needed surgery yet but they make some wild gristly sounds when I go up stairs these days and anything more than a casual running regimen is immediately vetoed

-deployed when I was 22. wearing body armor was Not Great for my upper back. lost ability to pop anything in my spine from the shoulder blades up, gained some truly unsexy shooting pains in exchange

-several years of severe headaches i ignored because lmao childhood trauma and also not wanting to be seen as weak due to being just about the only enlisted woman in almost every unit/office i worked in.

-marriage imploded at 26 which gosh, did NOT do good things for the mild anxiety/depression i'd been staunchly ignoring for like a decade at that point. i used to think commercials for anti-depressants were like, rude satire. nope. that really is just how shitty a brain can get!

-apropos of FUCKALL I woke up one morning just before I turned 27 with a headache that has varied in intensity and location but has never gone away. latest diagnosis is a type of headache that's so persistent and resistant to treatment that there are known cases of people having this type for 30+ years. i could be one of those unlucky fucks! or it could go away tomorrow! we just don't know!

-spent 2018-2021 making EXTENSIVE USE of that free medical trying to figure out what the hell was going on or to at least find literally anything that will help reduce/control it. I have at this moment within arm's reach something like $2k worth of medical devices I got for free to help with the migraines.

-they don't.

-one time i tried to do a tally of how much I would have had to be pay out of pocket for all the primary care visits, the specialty care visits, the physical therapy, the stupid fucking useless acupuncture, the Botox, the ~16 different medications, the ER visits from bad reactions to medications, etc. etc. etc. if i hadn't been in the AF and I decided to go lay down in a dark room with an ice pack and not think about it instead.

-i did spend thousands out of pocket on a chiropractor, massages, and gas to keep driving to all those fucking appointments.

-during all this the constant migraines wreaked havoc on my neck, jaw, and shoulders, which in turn contributed to a vicious cycle of pain where doing anything beyond boiling myself in a dark shower 1-2 times a day did not only seem more trouble than it was worth, but WAS more trouble than it was worth.

-i was also diagnosed with fibromyalgia at 28. the rheumatology clinic gave me a pamphlet that was less informative than a google search and a politely phrased 'you're young and you still have all your limbs, why are you complaining? go away.'

-fibromyalgia diagnosis was given despite more evidence pointing to Sjogren's syndrome, which is an actual autoimmune disorder that sure, won't kill me, but it WOULD explain why my teeth have only gotten worse despite extremely thorough annual workups. it can cause all sorts of fun organ dysfunctions too. i could also go blind! either way neither is curable and whatever i've got showed up a decade earlier than is typically expected for my demographic!

-it wasn't any of the squillion medical experts i saw but literally just some other woman in my squadron who suggested i put my name on the Airborne Hazards and Open Burn Pit Registry, because she developed all sorts of autoimmune fuckery after her deployment. all of That is still being researched and debated and such, and has been for decades. maybe breathing too much sand and burning garbage gave me brain damage! maybe not!

-also during all this i lost half my hair due to damage caused by using Devacurl products. if you use that brand there are currently multiple lawsuits going on! you or your loved ones may be entitled to compensation, etc.

-anyway i turned 30 this year and a month later the Air Force kicked me out with 90% disability pay, a couple anti-depressant/anxiety prescriptions, and 0 fanfare.

-things could have gone so much worse for me and STILL COULD AT ANY MOMENT. I never considered myself invincible when I was younger but my good fucking gracious chronic pain isn't something i'd wish on anybody. i am terrified of the state my body might be in when i'm 40, never mind when i'm actually old. i am terrified of tomorrow. this is probably the severe anxiety talking.

-at least i've managed to avoid the heart disease rampant in my family? so far????

IN CONCLUSION, TO THE YOUTHS:

sit up straight, do some stretches, go for walkies, eat a vegetable, turn the music down a little, clean linens are the best gift you can give yourself, however much water you typically drink in a day it isn't enough, therapy does actually help, it's okay to be mad sometimes but i'm begging you to find at least one thing to laugh about every day, please take care of yourselves, and most importantly ENJOY your bodies while the going's good. this meat is expiring fast and there are no refunds.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Tracing Time

This discusses the hate crime in s3 (and the homophobia plotline in sos).

Thursday, 02:26

Song: IAMX - Insomnia; Crywolf ft. EDEN - Stomach It

He’s going to break that clock.

It’s usually not something that bothers him. Sometimes he even finds it soothing, counts the ticks to help him sleep. Now it’s too loud, occupies too much space, and taunts him with how late it is and how much he’s going to regret this tomorrow. Even though it’s out of his control.

He stuffs his face further into his pillow and makes himself take a deep breath. When that doesn’t work, he takes another. Then one more. And another.

He gets up, climbs so that he’s standing on top of his bed, and takes the clock off the wall. He pulls out the batteries from the back, careful not to let them drop and roll away, and there. Peaceful, beautiful, blissful silence. This time his deep breath works, sending a wave of relaxation all the way through him before he climbs down again.

When he crawls back into bed, he’s got his phone in one hand and his key to Robbe’s in the other.

He doesn’t really do anything with either, just sets his phone next to him and lets his hand rest on it and rubs his thumb over the key in the habit he’s picked up. It’s most soothing, even as he feels apprehension and doubt swirl in his chest. Robbe had gone to sleep before Sander even went to bed, messaging him while Sander was still working on his assignment, trying to finish off just that one paragraph. He’d told himself that was enough to be satisfied with, that it would be more beneficial to sleep when he still has two days to work on it. He’d had to take his pills, anyway, and he’d hoped they’d pretty much knock him out, but he hardly even feels as sleepy as he usually does.

Now he just feels like he’s wasting his time. He’s not working or sleeping, and his brain has nowhere to go so it spins in circles.

He's thinking about his assignment, still. Worrying. He’s pretty sure he’ll get it done, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be a load of crap. He’s also thinking about Agathe, telling him he’s doing well. He’s thinking about the woman with the death stare from the cafe. He’s thinking about that talk with Jens, and moving on and doing better.

He rubs over the key too quickly and lets out a hiss as he scratches his thumb. Instead of putting it down, however, he holds it tight in his hand and picks up his phone.

He navigates to Robbe’s contact, first. He looks at their messages from earlier, the usual banter, the sweet goodnight, and he settles a little, allows it to warm him. He could text Robbe, but chances are that the boy is definitely asleep and Sander will wake him up. Robbe’s insomnia had returned with a weak sort of vengeance after the holidays as he stressed about his final ever semester, but he seems to have gotten it under control now. Sander will not disturb him.

He could go through and look at videos or photos or listen to voice notes, bring the remnants of Robbe close enough to feel his comfort. Or it might just strengthen the twinge in his heart.

He finds himself opening Instagram instead, maybe to bore him to sleep, and finds Lucas’s story waiting for him. He’s only shared a song, nothing unusual, but it was also only posted two minutes ago.

Sander’s calling him without even taking time to think about it, but Lucas picks up on the first ring.

“Hi,” he says, voice low and sleepy but curious, the concern thinly veiled. “Can’t sleep either?”

“No,” Sander whispers. “Hi.”

Lucas is silent for a moment, probably waiting for Sander to speak. Eventually, he gives up. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Sander pauses. “No? I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Lucas says. “I’ll wait.”

Well.

It’s not Robbe, but it’s the next best thing, maybe. It’s the perfect thing to say, to do. Because Lucas won’t push, but he won’t leave. He’ll breathe in Sander’s ear and wait. Sander takes the time, because he knows, is sure, that it really is allowed, and without the incessant ticking it doesn’t feel as long, anyway. Even when he’s silent for what must be a few minutes, Lucas stays silent, too. Keeps waiting.

“Are you scared of Jens’s house?” Sander finally asks.

The silence on the other end becomes total, and Sander checks to make sure Lucas hasn’t hung up. But no; it’s just his breaths that have stopped. Sander worries for a brief moment before a sigh emits. “I know you spoke to him.”

Sander takes it for the non-answer it is and points it out as one. “That wasn’t my question.”

“I know.” Their breaths pass to each other silently again. Then Lucas just says, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid. Even now. It doesn’t matter that I know it’s stupid. It doesn’t matter when he’s not there.” He takes a louder breath. “I think I’m just always a little afraid, anyway, though.”

Sander absorbs this. After a while, he just says, softly, “Yeah.”

It’s not that he hadn’t been, even before. Merely meeting Robbe was scary for a multitude of reasons, and kissing him for the first time had his heart pounding, but it was worth it, so worth it. Then he’d had Robbe turn him down, had seen Robbe so hurt and upset by what he’d done, and he’d felt the fear and the horror and the disgust at himself before he realised it was all the same things that had made Robbe so harsh in the first place. It hadn’t mattered, when Robbe came back to him, because Sander had him then and that was all he wanted and he had always understood. Even if he had never struggled with himself quite the way Robbe had, it was still part of his understanding. He’d never really needed Robbe to explain himself to him.

Then Sander had taken Robbe on what he thought would be a perfect first date, and his understanding grew to a whole new level.

And with it comes the fear.

Even though he knows, he knows, that Robbe has only been strengthened, has only grown braver, because of their relationship. Even though he never wishes or feels the need to hide Robbe, never, no matter where and when they might be. It’s still there.

It’s a valid fear, and that understanding fills Sander with such a burning fury that of course he has to fight back against it.

He’s already spent too much of his life fearing too much about himself. He will not fear this, not when it is what allows him his biggest source of happiness.

“Is this about the bar?” Lucas asks quietly. “I know you talked to Jens.”

Sander huffs.

“I’m sorry, if you didn’t want him to pass anything on to me, but he needed to tell me you were the one knocking sense into him. I’ve been meaning to say thanks.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he mumbles.

Lucas hums. “You did. You understood.”

“So I was right?”

“Of course you were,” Lucas laughs, derisively. “You knew you were. I mean, you’re also shockingly wrong, but that’s a whole different point.”

Sander frowns, furrowing his brows, even though Lucas can’t see him. “What does that mean?”

There’s silence for a moment, and then Lucas sighs. “You know it’s not the same. With you guys...it’s not just about Robbe.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either,” Sander says forcefully.

“That’s not what I meant. I know it’s not. I know enough about the guy to know he’s just a dick, and no matter what I did, that wouldn’t be any different. I don’t think you do.”

Sander has a denial ready, but it dies in his throat. He doesn’t have the energy to protest and argue, not with his medication finally feeling like it’s kicking in, and not when Lucas will just see right through him. “I know,” is all he manages to say, hoarsely.

“Do you?”

“I do. But don’t you also think...I don’t know. Maybe if I was thinking more clearly, I would have gotten us out of there sooner, or I could have fought them off—“

“But Robbe couldn’t?”

Sander swallows. This is precisely why he didn’t want to argue, because he knew Lucas would go for all his sense and logic and pick Sander’s points apart at the seams. Sander doesn’t have any retorts prepared.

“Sander, I get how you feel, but you know he wants to protect you too, right?” Lucas asks softly. He gets even quieter as he continues. “You know you were hurt, too.”

“This woman gave me a weird look today, when I was at the cafe with Robbe,” Sander tells him. “And I was just so relieved she didn’t actually say anything and he didn’t see.”

Lucas lets out another breath, and there’s a rustling of sheets. “I wouldn’t tell him, either.”

Sander lowers his voice to a whisper. “Why doesn’t it matter how long it’s been? Robbe and I go back to the bar all the time now, and it’s fine, it doesn’t bother us.”

“But you don’t have to be there to think about it, so it bothers you anyway, at the most random times.”

Sander closes his eyes.

“It’s okay, Sander,” Lucas murmurs.

“I told Robbe not to go to the police. That they’d never catch the guys, that shit just happens. Like it was nothing, like we just have to get over it.”

“I’m sure he knows that isn’t what you meant.”

“No, but he doesn’t know what I did mean. He doesn’t know that I didn’t want my dad to be taking our statement and know about another way that I fucked up. I didn’t want to have made another mistake, I didn’t want it to be my fault for finding trouble, I—“

“Sander, stop,” Lucas says sternly. “I can hear your voice cracking. You need to breathe, okay? Take a minute. It’s fine.”

Sander struggles to obey, abandoning his rant to take another deep breath, like he’d always been taught. Lucas doesn’t say anything, but his own breaths seem to get louder. The steady rhythm filters into Sander’s ears and eases its way towards his lungs. He closes his eyes, but his mind is still conjuring too many unpleasant images, so he opens them again and looks for something to focus on in the dim, moonlit room. He settles on the photographs framed on his nightstand. One from when he was a child, both his parents next to him, and the other much more recent. That first afternoon he’d spent in Robbe’s room, the two of them locked away in their bubble, talking about universes and films and thoughts. Well over a year ago, now, and he still remembers it so clearly. Robbe’s arms draped around his shoulders, kissing the top of Sander’s head while Sander pulls a stupid face. Robbe so caring, so indulgent, even then.

“That’s better,” Lucas speaks up again.

Sander lets out a shaky sigh. “Sorry.”

“You never talk to anyone about how much it affected you, do you? Aside from the first time you told me about it, you don’t let yourself be upset.”

“It’s Robbe,” Sander says, somewhat hopelessly, unsure that he’s making any sense at this point. “How could I not love him? What’s so bad about it?”

“Nothing,” Lucas says, sure and steady. “Nothing at all, Sander.”

A tear Sander hadn’t even noticed was building slips down his cheek, and he lets it, waits until it seeps into the pillow before wiping the dampness from his skin. They both stay quiet, but the simple presence of his friend is enough to be calming. He’s somewhat glad he hadn’t called Robbe, though he longs for nothing more than to go to him, and the key still tucked in his fist is enough permission. But he doesn’t want to talk to Robbe about this, not anymore, not again. Not when it could do harm rather than good, could bring sadness without any relief.

It’s a relief, to tell Lucas, who understands but won’t be hurt by it in the same way. Who knows Sander almost as well and has been in a similar position and who won’t cry just because he does.

“You never told your parents about it, did you?” Lucas asks. It’s not judgmental, but it’s clear he knows the answer already.

“Would you have, if you didn’t have to for Jens?”

He hears Lucas’s soft huff. “Probably not. But that doesn’t mean I’m not glad that they know.”

“It’s not the same, though. You didn’t lie to them about why you came home beat up. You didn’t have to.”

“No. I was lucky, I know that. But that could just mean I’m a lot more to blame for what happened to us than you are for such a random, hateful attack. I lied to my dad, too. He didn’t know Jens and I were together, and if I hadn’t been at his house, his dad would never have found out. Or at least, it might not have been as shockingly bad.”

“No,” Sander argues, again, but it’s difficult with Lucas using his own logic against him.

Lucas sighs; Sander can picture him shaking his head. “Maybe if I’d told dad earlier, Jens wouldn’t have had to run off, and I wouldn’t have felt so shitty. But I know even if I’d never brought it up, it would still feel like a relief to tell him today.”

Sander purses his lips, and doesn’t say anything.

“You can be upset, or angry, or hurt, or whatever you want. And you can talk about it. That’s how you move on, Sander.”

“Robbe and I have already talked about it so many times,” Sander sighs. Then he admits, “But never like this.”

Lucas hums. “He’ll understand, better than me. And he can handle it just as well. You know that. But thank you, for telling me. You always can.”

“I know,” Sander mumbles. Somewhere in the past couple of minutes, his eyelids have started drooping. “Thank you.”

“Did it help? At all?”

Sander presses into his pillow and lets out a breath. “Yeah. I actually think it did.” It hasn’t really changed anything, he knows, and it’ll come up again eventually no matter how much he tells himself it’s in the past and he’s moved on. The weight of the memory isn’t gone, but it feels lighter, somehow. Like admitting it’s not okay is starting to make it so.

“Good.” He can hear the smile in Lucas’s voice. “Are you falling asleep now?”

Sander can’t do much more than hum.

Lucas laughs quietly. “Okay. Get some rest, dumbass.”

“Are you okay?” Sander thinks to ask. “You were up, that’s why I called.”

“I’m going to sleep now, too,” Lucas promises. “I think you helped me as well.”

“Okay,” Sander sighs. “Night, Luc.”

“Bye, Sander.”

Sander waits a moment even after he hears the call run out, then lets his hand slip away from his ear slowly. He sets the phone aside, stretching his arm out to the nightstand, but keeps a hold of the key. He brings it closer to his chest and sucks a breath in, then lets it out, and finally relaxes. He doesn’t have to go to Robbe, he convinces himself. But he can—he really can, any time he wants to, and that’s more than enough.

He’s asleep in seconds.

~^~

previous/next

[zmayadw]

Evening to all :)

All right, so I finaly did it, the last chapter of my original story is finaly done :) It took me a while, what with the episode 8 being released at that time, and with some other stuff I wrote in the between then and now, but it is done. Well, one more part is left, basicly like an epilogue, wich will be posted in a couple of days, too, but the story itself ends with this one.

Anyway, enjoy, and I wish you all a nice evening :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 26

Jakes POV

„How is she?“ I asked Jessy as I entered the room. She got her head up from the book she was reading to look at me. „Still the same.“ She said. I sighed, walking to her bed. I took her hand, placing a soft kiss on her wrist. „The doctor was here earlier.“ Jessy informed me. „He said she is doing fine, that there's not any medical reason to be worried about.“ I just stared at her sleeping face. „Then why won't she wake up, Jessy?“ I asked her desperatly. „She will, Jake.“ she said to me, and I turned arround facing her. She smiled at me „When she's ready.“ Four days passed since they operated on her, and I was worried. Maybe Jessy was right, but her words didn't bring me any peace. She collected her stuff, and came to me. „Call me if you need anything. And if there's any change.“ She said hugging me. „Thanks, I will.“ I said, Jessy smiling once more at me before leaving. With Jessy gone, I moved myself lying next to her, leaning my forehead on the side of her head. „Please, Maya, you have to wake up.“ I whispered to her ear „ I can't do this alone, I need you with me.“

I felt a hand on my shoulder and flinched, turning my head. That nice nurse from before was smiling at me „Sorry, dear, didn't mean to fright you.“ I must have dozed off. „It's fine“ I said. „Is something wrong?“ I asked alarmed, and she smiled again „No, dear. I just need to change some things, so I have to ask you to leave for a while.“ I turned my head back to Maya, she looked so peaceful. „Dont worry, dear“ the nurse said „I'll take good care of her, just like I did before.“ I turned my look back to her. She smiled so heartedly at me, I got a feeling she had a special liking for Maya. And she did stick up for me when they brought Maya in here, and I refused to leave her and was almost dragged out by security. So I felt at peace to leave Maya with her. „Ofcourse, I'll let you do your thing.“ I said, getting up from the bed. I got to the doors when I turned back to her. „I'm sorry, but I don't know your name.“ I said and the nurse looked at me „It's Doris. Why do you ask, dear?“ „So I can properly thank you.“ I said. „So, thank you, Doris, for everything.“ She smiled wide at me „Oh, dear, you're sweet, and I knew I was right about you, but no need to thank me, really.“ She said and winked at me. I smiled back at her a bit confused before leaving the room.

I went outside, getting coffee and just sat at the bench in front of the hospital. I hated being here again. And seeing her back at that bed once more made me angry. And scared. More scared than the last time. All this uncertainty was driving me insane. If everything is fine like the doctor said, why isn't she awake yet? I was deep into my thoughts, that it took me a while to notice my phone was ringing. „Hey, Hannah.“ I answered the call. „Hi, Jake. How is she? Any change?“ she asked. I sighed „Nothing yet.“ „I'm sure everything will be fine soon, she's a fighter.“ She said reasuringly to me. „I hope so.“ I said. „I don't need to ask how you are“ she said „I can hear it in your voice. Did you eat anything today?“ I could hear the worry in her voice for me, and I could have easily lied, but she would know. „Not yet, I will later.“ „Jake, you can't do that to yourself.“ She said „And I won't let you. I'll be there in 10, and I'm taking you for lunch.“ „Hannah, that's nice of you, but rea...“ she didnt let me finish. „Stop it, I don't want to hear it!“ She almost yelled at me, and it made me smile. She really was worried for me, just like a sister would be. I was still geting used to that, of being someones brother. „All right, Hannah, I'll be waiting for you outside.“ „Good.“ She said „And besides, there is something I want to talk to you about anyway. Allrighty, see you in a while.“ „See you, Hannah.“ I said ending the call. I got up from the bench, taking the last sip of my coffe, heading out from the hospital area to meet with her.

The lunch with Hannah passed mostly with her talking and me thoughtfully nodding and saying a few words. She tried hard to lift my spirit up at least a little, and I was grateful to her, but only one thing could pull me back to normal now. „Just think about my proposal. I know you're worried about Maya, we all are, but just think about it, ok?“ Hannah said to me as she drove me back to the hospital. „Yeah, I will.“ I said back to her. She hugged me tight „Hang in there, and call if you need anything.“ „Thanks, Hannah.“ I said hugging her back before leaving the car. Walking back inside the hospital, I did think about Hannahs proposal. She was moving in with Thomas, and she wanted to leave her apartment to me. Wich wasn't a bad idea, actually. I liked the apartment, and besides, when Maya gets out of hospital, she would be more comfortable there than at the motel. And that one room has a nice big window, she would love all that natural light for her drawing. I chuckled to myself at my thoughts. Not im my wildest dreams was I expecting to be thinking of something like this, ever. But she changed me so much, she gave me hope again. She made it so that I felt like I finaly found my quiet place in all this chaos. She was the missing link I was looking for all this time. She became my everything. I entered her room with a smile for the first time after days. And I froze. Her bed was empty. It felt like my heart actually stopped beating for a moment, panic hitting at me like a truck. What happened? I was gone for a few hours, she was fine, what the fuck happened?! „Jake?“ I swallowed hard, turning my head to the sound of my name being called. My eyes swelled with tears, as hers locked with mine. In a few quick steps I came to her, carefully embracing her in a hug, burying my face to her neck. „Don't you ever scare me like this again.“ I said, unsuccessfully hiding my sobs. „I don't think my heart could take it.“ She released me from a hug, her eyes also full of tears. She rested her palm on my cheek, and I closed my eyes taking a deep breath, relieved to feel her touch again. „I knew you wouldn't leave me, that you'd come back to me.“ I said opening my eyes. She smiled at me, her voice raspy „I could never leave you. Nothing can keep me away from you.“ She kissed me then, the kiss salty from out tears. Doris sighed next to us „Oh, the young love..what a beautiful thing it is.“

Doris and me helped her back to bed and she tapped with her hand beside her for me to join. I got next to her and she rested her head on my chest. „How you feeling, angle?“ I asked her. „Tired“ she said „And in pain.“ „Don't worry, hun“ Doris said „I gave you some 'good stuff' now, it will help.“ „Thanks, Doris.“ She said with a weak smile, Doris winking at her before leaving the room. She stirred a bit, making herselff more comfortable „You won't leave, right?“ she said to me sleepily, the meds Doris gave her starting to work. „Ofcourse not“ I said, kissing the top of her head „You just rest, angel, I'll be right here when you wake up.“ She smiled and fell asleep instantly. I just stared through the window, the feeling of her steady breathing relaxing me. I felt my eyes getting heavier, and before I knew it, I too fell asleep.

Mayas POV

It was early in the morning when I woke up. I felt a bit better, but was still in a lot of pain. Jake was still sleeping. And even asleep, he looked tired, the rings under his eyes showing again. Doris entered the room, smiling at me. „Good morning, hun.“ She wispered to me as she came next to the bed checking on my IV. „'Morning.“ I said smiling back at her. She glanced at Jake „I was right about him after all.“ She said and winked at me. I chuckled silently „You sure wer, Doris.“ „Well, rest some more, hun. I'll be back shortly with your breakfast.“ She said, smiling at me again leaving the room. „What was that about?“ I turned my head, Jake looking at me sleepily.“It's not nice to eavesdrop.“ I grinned at him. „It was kinda hard not to.“ He said raising his eyebrow at me. I laughed „All right, you got a point there.“ He smiled at me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. „It's good to see you laughing again.“ He got serious then „I'm sorry, angel.“ „What for?“ I asked. „For not being there with you.“ he said and sighed „I shouldn't have left you alone. I've let you down again.“ „Hey, that's not true.“ I said „I basicly forced you to leave, so if anyone is to be blamed, it's me then.“ „Even so, but I wasn't there.“ He said. „Jake“ I said softly, and he looked at me „Don't do this to yourself. It's not your fault this happened.“ I could see he was troubled with this. „Who is to say that the same thing wouldn't happen even if you were there?“ I asked him. „I can't, so please, don't torture yourself with 'what if's'. It happened, and I just want to move on, leave it all behind, now that it's finally over.“ He just looked at me „I don't know how you can so easily just move on.“ I sighed „Because, I don't want for it to take over my life. I want to focus on good things ahead of me, not dwell in the past.“ I placed my palm on his face and smiled at him „I want to focus on us.“ He kissed me softly, when Doris voice came from the door „Listen to her, dear, she speaks wisely.“ She said, winking at us. „She sure does, Doris.“ He said, not taking his eyes off me. She came to the bed bringing the food tray. „Now, lets get some food in you, hun. You will need it to get better.“ She said. Jake helped me to sit up, leaning on the pillow, Doris placing the tray in front of us. „I brought some extra, so there is enough for both of you.“ she said and winked at us, before leaving the room. „She sure likes you.“ he said to me as she left. I grinned at him „What to say, I'm just so darn adorable.“ He shook his head at me „And still impossible.“ I grinned even more „Even so, you still love me.“ He looked dreamily at me and smiled „More then you can imagine.“

The rest of my days in hospital passed fast. Jake was mostly with me, making sure to leave me with some kind of entertaintment when he left, either to help with Hannahs moving or for something else. He brought me his laptop, since mine got broken, with bunch of downloaded movies and books on it. Jessy also came to see me as often as she could. I was grateful for everything, but at some point all I wanted was some peace and quiet.

„Are you sure you don't want me to call Jessy to come?“ Jake asked me once more before leaving. „I'm sure“ I said „Don't worry, and don't get me wrong, but some alone time will be nice.“ „Humf, fine.“ He said „But call me if you get bored or anything and I'll be back right away.“ „I will.“ I said and smiled. He kissed me before heading for the doors. „See you soon, angel.“

With Jake gone, the room was quiet again, which was relaxing. I closed my eyes just apprieciating the silence, trying to get some sleep. But the nightmare was back. The images of what happened haunted my dreams repeatedly. Jake noticed it too, but I dismissed his worry quickly every time. He tried convincing me to talk about it with someone, anyone, even if it wasnt him, but I always said I'm fine, that it's not necessary. But he was right after all. I should.

With a sigh, I turned on the side staring through the windown, when a knock came from the doors. I turned, and laughed. A cute teddy bear holding a heart with 'Get well soon!' written on it was smiling at me from the door frame. The person holding it peeped his head behind it and grinned „Hello, gorgeous.“ „Hey, Phil.“ I smiled at him „I was worried you forgot about me.“ I said. He was the only one that hasn't visited me, at least till now. „That could never happen, gorgeous.“ He said walking over to me. „I just...waited for the right moment to come.“ He grinned sitting on the bed next to me. I laughed „So, Jessy informed you it's safe to come now, huh?“ I said raising my eyebrow at him. He grinned even more „Something like that.“ I shook my head „Well, I'm glad you came.“

„You know, my job offer still stands, gorgeous. I would still very much like you to do it.“ Phil said to me after a while. I chuckled „Can I at least get out of this place first? Then we can discuss it further.“ „Ofcours. I just wanted to let you know the offer still stands.“ He grinned devilishly and winked „Just so you don't forget about it.“ I laughed „Oh, don't worry, I never forget about the jobs being offered to me.“ „Good.“ He said and winked again. „Anyway, gorgeous, unfortunately I have to go now. Some of us don't have the luxury to lay in bed all day.“ He said getting up and grinning at me. He stood there for a moment, his face getting serious. He leaned then, embracing me in tight hug „I'm glad you're back with us, gorgeous.“ He said to my ear and kissed me on the cheek before moving from me. I smiled „Me too, Phil, me too.“ I took the teddy and grinned „And thank's for this guy.“ He grinned back „No worries, gorgeous.“ „Hello there.“ A voice sounded at the doors. Phil raised his eyebrow looking at me „Now it really is time I go.“ He smiled once more at me „Take care, gorgeous. See you soon.“ He turned and nodde at the person entering the room „Loverboy.“ Jake did the same walking towards my bed, looking extremely calm, and I was surprised. As they passed eachother, Phil stopped „Hey, loverboy?“ Jake turned to him and Phil's fist colided with his face, sending him to the floor. „Phil!“ I jumped in my bed, wincing instantly from the pain. Phil didn't even spare me a glance, he just leaned down closer to Jake „I told you to take care of her.“ Jake just looked at him, not trying to do anything. Doris bursted to the room „Phil Hawkins!“ she yelled „How dare you come to 'my house' and make a mess?!“ The two just continued to look at eachother, when Phil finaly straightened and turned to Doris with the most wide smile „Sorry, Doris.“ He said walking towards her „I owed him that.“ He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before heading for the doors „Hope I'll see you and the others soon at the Aurora.“ Doris shook her head after him „Schmack.“ She turned to Jake „You all right there, dear?“ she asked him as he got up. „I'm fine, thanks Doris.“ He said and she looked at him „Mhm, sure you are. I'm still gonna brig you some ice for that.“ She said and walked out. „I'm fine.“ Jake said to me seeing my expression. He came and sat next to me. „Thats was very unexpected of you. I was sure you would fight him back.“ I said and he looked at me a bit sad „Well, he was right.“ I sighed „Are we back to that again?“ „What? To me not looking after you? Ofcourse, I will never forgive myself for it.“ Now he sighed desperately „I'm sorry, angel, but I can't just get so easily over it. Maybe with time, but for now it still sits heavy on my shoulders.“ I saw how much all of it still bothered him, and I knew no matter what I might say he wouldn't listen. „All right“ I said after a moment „But, just promise me, you will try to let go off that. For me.“ He half smiled „I promise, angel.“ I pulled him to me for a kiss, and he winced. Doris came back giving Jake the ice pack. „Thank you , Doris.“ He said taking it from her. „You're welcome, dear.“ She said winking before leaving again. I took the ice pack from him „Come here you.“ I said and pulled him to lay next to me. Placing the pack on the spot that was really red by now and started to swell he winced again „Ouch!“. „I'm sorry.“ I said quickly and he grinned at me. „Ohh you, that was mean!“ He laughed „Sorry, angel, couldn't resist.“

„Ready to leave, hun?“ Doris asked smiling from the doors holding my discharge papers. „Definitely!“ I said cheerfuly. She came to me and hugged me „Now, hun, as much as I like you, I hope I'll never see you again.“ She moved from me and winked „At least not in here.“ I chuckled „I hope so too, Doris. And, thank you, again, for everything.“ „No need to thank me, hun.“ She turned to Jake and winked „Now, dear, you take good care of her, this one's a keeper.“ „You can say that again, Doris.“ He said back, and to the surprise of both of us, walked to her and gave her a hug. „And I also thank you for everything.“ He released her, and with glazing eyes she waved her hand at us „Oh, you two..get going now, before you get me even more teary.“ She smiled and squeezed us both on the hand before leaving the room „Take care, kids.“

Feeling the sun on my face as we stepped out from the hospital felt so good. „So, do you maybe want to go somewhere first?“ Jake asked me as we walked towards the car. „I mean, you were in there for quite a wile.“ I smiled at him „Yeah, thats true. But I still feel a bit tired. Maybe tomorrow.“ As much as I appriciated being out, I still needed to rest. But I also wasn't very eager of the thought of returning back to the motel. Not after all that happened there. He smiled back at me „As you wish, angel. We got to the apartment then.“ „Apartment? Not the motel?“ I asked surprised. „Ahm, well yeah.“ He started „I hope you don't mind, but I got all your stuff and took them to Hannah's place.“ He got a bit nervous „I mean, I am staying there now that she's moved in with Thomas. And to be honest, I thought you might feel...less uneasy there.“ I stopped walking, and he turned to look at me. „Everything all ri...“ But I didn't let him finish. I pulled him in a tight hug „Thank you. You have no idea how glad I am to hear this. I so didn't want to go back to the motel. Not after everything.“ I felt tears coming to my eyes. „I know, angel.“ He said, and a sob escaped me. Then another, and another. He hugged me tighter „It's ok, angel, everything will be fine. I've got you now.“ He just held me there in a tight hug, letting me cry on his shoulder, for as long as I needed it.

„Ohh, this room is amazing with all this natural light!“ I squealed as Jake showed me around the apartment. He chuckled „I thought you might like it. Hence that big table there.“ I turned grinning to him „You did this for me?“ „Ofcourse, angel.“ I rushed to him throwing my hands around his neck and kissing him, but winced from the pain in my shoulder. „All right, that's enough excitement for you for now.“ He said ushering me out of the room. He lead me to the couch, made me sit then lifted my feet up. „Now don't move from here unless it's really necessary.“ He said stern with a raised eyebrow. „Oh, come on, that's not needed.“ I said protestingly. He chuckled „Maybe, but just take it easy for a day or two more.“ I was about to protest again, but he looked at me, making such a puppy face that I couldn't possibly say no to him. „Argh, all right, although I feel fine, I'll do it for you.“ „Thank you, angel.“ He said and leaned to kiss me. „Now, can I get you anything? Drink, food?“ he asked and i grinned „Well, I would kill for a coffee.“ He laughed hard „Why I'm not surprised about that.“ He said standing up. „Well, since I'm not allowed to move from this spot, I hope you're ready to indulge my demands.“ I said grinning. He smiled „For you, angel, I'll do anything.“

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

3 MONTHS LATER

„Just come to the Aurora tonight, Jessy, I will tell you everything then.“ I said to her on the phone, as I entered the apartment. „Fine, be all secretive then.“ She said sulky. I laughed „No need for that tone, you know that won't work on me. I'm still not gonna tell you anything now.“ „Ahhh, fine! See you tonight then.“ „See you, Jessy.“ I entered the kitchen, Jake sitting at the table with his laptop. He smiled „Hey, angel.“ „Hey babe.“ I said going to him for a kiss. „How was with dr. Barret?“ he asked. „It was ok.“ I said sitting next to him. „It actualy feels good to talk about it with someone.“ I smiled „Thank you for talking me into doing it.“ „No need to thank me, angel.“ He said smiling back. I sighed „I hope it doesn't bother you that it's not you that I can talk to about it.“ He took my hand, pulling me from the chair to sit on his lap „I don't really care who you talk about it with, angel. Heck, I wouldn't care if you said you wanted to talk to Phil about it. As long as you get better.“ I laughed „Huh, you know, now that you mentioned it, they do say that barkeepers are a good listeners. So kinda close to psychiatrist.“ I tilted my head and said teasingly „It would definitely be cheeper. And beside, I'm sure Phil wouldn't mind listening to me, me being all vulnerable around him, and..“ „Ok,ok, no need to continue.“ He said quickly interupting me. „You just stick with dr. Barret.“ I laughed „Awww, babe, will you ever be at ease about Phil?“ „Probably not.“ He said thoughtfully. I smiled „Not even now, when I'm about to move in with you?“ He grinned „Not even then.“ I chuckled „You're hopeless then.“ He gave me a quick kiss. „Sooo“ he started grinning again„You think Jessy will be happy when you tell her the news about you moving here?“ „Happy?“ I said, „No, I don't think so.“ He looked confused at me, and I grinned „She will be thrilled.“

A/N: Ok, so after a short, but lovely chat with @lovingstudentangel who got a bit confused with how I ended the previous chapter, with the part of Jake visiting a grave, thinking it was the end of the story, so I want to clarifie it for her, or anyone else who might have been equaly confused. It was his mother grave that he visited, and I used that part as a clifhanger. I hope all is in the clear now :)

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 26

First

Previous

Next

~~~

They snuck through the house. Did they really have to? Probably not. She doubted that anyone would genuinely care if they saw her there. Were they still going to? Of course. It was infinitely more fun that way.

Then, seemingly at random, Jason pushed open a door and gave small bow as she stepped inside.

It was a dojo of some sort. The floors were lined with padded mats. On one wall, rows of dummies were lined up. On the opposite wall, she found a shooting range. The other two walls were ‘decorated’ with different types of weapons and, occasionally, the odd pad.

Jason hummed as he looked around, then rested his hands on his hips. “Right. Shooting range?” He asked.

She bit her lip and looked around. “Actually, I’d like to fight.”

His lips pulled into a slight frown for a second before he nodded. “Do you want to beat up a dummy or me?”

She blinked. “I’m not going to beat you up.”

“I meant with padded armor.”

Her lips formed an ‘o’ shape and she nodded, then considered the question. If he was wearing armor, then at least she could get in some practice on finding/hitting people’s weak spots. On the other hand, she was still injured; she didn’t know if she should push herself like that.

She glanced at him and bit down on the inside of her cheek. Would he notice if she was in pain? Could she do any intensive work? Did she want to risk it?

“I guess it would be fun to beat you up.”

“Ouch,” he said, resting a hand over his heart with a cheeky grin. Still, he started getting into the armor.

She stretched while she waited, closing her eyes. A warm up was important, she just had to make sure not to flex her stomach and sides too much. This didn’t leave her with as many options as she would have liked, though, so she was done pretty quickly.

After a bit of looking around, she pulled on some grappling gloves. She flexed her fingers. “I like these. They’re mine now.”

“Sure, take everything but the katanas and the guns and you’ll be fine.”

She snickered. “Why specifically those?”

“Well, the guns are mine and I would prefer not having to go through the trouble to mod new ones. As for the katanas, those are Damian’s. They’re not special or anything, far as I can tell, but they’re his and you don’t mess with his stuff.”

She raised an eyebrow as they walked back onto the mats. “Is that a sibling thing?”

“Stealing each other’s things? Yeah.”

Marinette grinned. “Well then, I’m going to have to pass on your offer to get adopted. My stuff is my stuff.”

"Don’t worry, you don’t really have anything worth stealing anyways.”

She huffed and gave him a kick in the chest for the express purpose of watching him stumble back a bit. “Rude!”

“But true,” he said calmly, stepping back into position.

She didn’t respond outside of a punch to the face. Which, she supposed, was an answer in itself.

And, so, she worked. She didn’t go as hard on him as she usually would when training, because she needed to make sure she didn’t start bleeding through her shirt (it would be hard to explain), but she still threw a fair few punches and kicks that made him actually move. Occasionally, he would reach out and poke her somewhere to show her she’d dropped her guard.

She was in the middle of a roundhouse kick when he asked what must have been on his mind for a while: “So, why are you mad at them?”

She blinked and her foot passed through clean air, leaving her to spin a bit. She huffed as a hand tapped her back and got back into her fighting stance. “Why do you ask?”

“Figured that, as your older brother, I should know if what they did is murder-worthy or not,” he joked quietly.

She sighed and shook her head slightly. “Fine.” She threw a punch with the word to show her distaste, but still answered: “First one is Chloe. She... she and I didn’t get along from the start. We went through a lot of school together and she bullied me.”

She saw his eyes flare with anger and rolled her eyes.

“It was nothing really bad, don’t worry. And it wasn’t as if I wasn’t rude back at times.”

His shoulders relaxed a little bit, but he didn’t seem any happier about this information.

She threw a particularly high kick at his face and winced as pain raced through her. To make sure he didn’t interpret it badly she stepped back and nursed her hamstring as if she’d pulled it.

He dropped his arms and frowned, stepping forward, only to get poked in the nose.

“Dropped your guard!”

Jason’s eyes narrowed slightly and pat her on the head. “You did, too,” he said.

“Mhmm, but let’s not talk about that.”

He rolled his eyes and brought his hands back up.

She gave him a cheeky grin and got back into a fighting stance herself. “And then, after all that time, she finds out blackmail on me. Literally the biggest blackmail she could find. And she didn’t use it. She didn’t even threaten it.”

“Everyone has morals of some kind, what’s so good about it?”

Marinette shook her head slightly and gave him a quick kick in the shin. “You didn’t see her. She’s been helping me out a lot since. She didn’t even need to, and she went to a lot of trouble to help me.”

He nodded thoughtfully.

“And the other person?”

She hesitated to think up a name for Robin, but then figured she might be able to get away with just not using one. “Right. He stole a win right out from under me. Cheated a bit, too,” she explained.

“And why are you thinking he’s a good person now?”

She thought of how to phrase it without looking like she was hiding too much. “We saw each other recently and he didn’t recognize me. And he was so... sweet?”

A sigh slipped from between her lips. Her hands fell to her sides.

“But even when they’re nice and all... I still can’t be nice back. Not really. I can do little things in short bursts... but it’s all fake and I just can’t seem to get over it! Chloe hasn’t done anything in years and R--Roy hasn’t done anything too bad since but I can’t...” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know how to keep going. He seemed to understand, though.

She laid back on the ground, resting her hands over her eyes. She heard a dull thud as dropped down next to her. They were quiet for a long time.

Jason was the one to break the silence: “So, do you think there’s a link between the two for why you can’t get over it?”

She mulled this over for a bit. She came to an answer and sunk into the mat a little bit. “Me?”

He sighed. “No. Okay, yes, technically, but I don’t think that’s it.”

She dropped a hand and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. “Then what?”

“Well... think of it this way: anger is a secondary emotion, right?”

“Secondary...?”

“Basically, anger is a completely different emotion that's boiled over. Usually sadness, but sometimes other things.”

She rolled her eyes. “So there’s some secret emotion I’m feeling underneath?”

He gave a short nod. “My personal guess is that they make you feel weak or inferior.”

“But I’m not.”

“I know that,” he said gently. “But from what you were describing... the first person bullied you, right? You said you fought back a little bit, but it sounds like you got a lot more than you dished out.”

She frowned. “I didn’t want to stoop to her level. The only reason I fought back at all was because of a friend I had at the time.”

He nodded. “Okay, sure. Then there’s a person that actively undermined you. You say he ‘stole your win’ but that’s not really much to be bitter about. Sure, it sucks, but you’re holding way more of a grudge than you should.”

She rested her hands on her stomach and stared at the ceiling. Maybe. But...

“But most damning,” he began, pulling her attention back to him, “is that you’re fighting while clearly injured.”

Marinette cursed in French. So he had noticed. She bit down on the inside of her cheek.

“So, yeah, that’s what my best guess is for why you can’t just ‘get over it’.”

She thought this over for a bit, before sighing. “And what do I do about it?”

“For now I’d apologize, explain that you’re working on yourself, and warn them that you might end up snapping at them in the meantime. If they’re actually good people, they’d understand, right?” He reached over and poked her cheek. “And you need to raise your self esteem if you want to really get over the problem.”

She gave him a tiny smile. “You seem to know a lot about this.”

“I suppose my therapist would have to come in handy at some point.”

She was stunned into silence. He certainly seemed the type to need a therapist, but he didn’t seem the type to actually get one.

He laughed at the look on her face. “Yeah, Bruce makes it mandatory for all his kids. Us and our friends usually end up held for ransom from time to time. It’s good to have someone on call.”

Marinette nodded. That made sense. She bit the inside of her cheek. So, she needed to work on herself and apologize.

She pulled out her phone.

~~~

This took forever to write out and I still don’t know if I got the point across well enough so like fuck --

~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace

<3

[imaginingmyloki]

A Shift in Reality

Fandom/universe: Marvel

Pairing: LokixReader

Timeline: AU marvel where its after Ragnarok so Loki keeps his character development and no one dies because infinity war/end game never happened :)

Word Count: 2140

A/N: So this is the first non-requested fic I have written in a long time. Reader’s powers are essentially Daisy Johnson’s powers (earthquake/vibrations for those who haven’t seen agents of shield- if you havent seen it I HIGHLY recommend it!  If any part of reader’s powers being used for certain things get confusing I’ll try to link a youtube video of Daisy using her powers doing the same thing to see a visual of it! But here’s an overview video of her using her powers to do a lot of really cool stuff if you’re interested :) not at all relevant to the story but I have a MAJOR crush on daisy haha). I’m already working on part 2 and it should be posted early next week! Anyways, I hope you guys like it :) and requests are open so if you have any let me know!

“Kid, where are you?” Stark came over coms sounding like a frantic father. “I’m fine, Tony. I’m 26 and I don’t need a babysitter.” I had only been with the team for a couple months. Tony had found me in rough shape, running after escaping from Hydra. After a few weeks healing and training, I had been allowed to go on a few easy missions with the team but always had to stay with someone since I was still learning to control my abilities. Hydra didn’t teach me control, they only taught me to use anger as the driving force behind my power and with powers like mine, that could get dangerous quickly. This was my first mission where I wasn’t instructed to stay with someone the entire time. I still ended up walking with Loki for the first few minutes after everyone splitting up. He and I had become friends since I had moved to the compound. He was the only one who didn’t look at me like he was waiting for me to break or pestering me to talk about what I had been through before joining them. It was supposed to be a simple mission just to gather some intel from an old shut down Hydra base. I turned down a hallway that had a door at the end as Loki turned down one on the opposite side of the corridor. He gave me a nod before we went our separate ways as if to reassure me that I could handle this. I made my way towards the door and realized that it was slightly open and I could hear low talking inside. I paused just outside the door to listen, “There’s at least 6 of them here and probably more outside for backup. We need to hurry up and wipe the server and blow the rest of it.” 

I tried to warn Loki over coms but didn’t get an answer so slowly made my way into the room, staying out of sight of the two men sitting at the bank of computers. As I snuck around a large shelf, something came into view. A bomb that had a timer on it and was counting down. It was hooked to multiple, smaller impact bombs that would go off after the initial explosion disturbed them.This would cause catastrophic damage to the building. We had 2 minutes until it would bring the building down on top of everyone inside. Giving up on staying hidden, I stepped out, hands at the ready, and said “Stop the bomb. Now.” The man at work on the computer continued what he was doing and the man who had an air of authority about him slowly turned to face me and the air in my lungs suddenly went cold. His name was Nelson and he was the man that had been in charge of me when Hydra had me captive. It took everything in me to remind myself that I was in control of myself and I didn’t need to tell him that I was ready to comply with whatever orders he would give me. I was free now and there would be no punishments for disobeying. “Well now if it isn’t my most promising weapon of mass destruction. We’ve been looking for you. The boss is not happy with me for losing you. You took out quite a few high value assets on your way out.” He was smirking and the look on his face made me feel like I was missing a piece of the puzzle. With coms still silent and no sign of anyone coming to help me, the fear started to sink in and the room around us started trembling as I began to lose control of my powers. Nelson chuckled, “Still having trouble controlling the fear, I see. Guess we didn’t quite beat that out of you yet, huh?” I glanced quickly at the timer, a minute and 15 seconds left. Loki suddenly came running into the room, a knife in both hands. Before I could say anything to him, the knives left his hands with a swift flick of his wrist. One took out the man at the computer and the other landed in Nelson’s shoulder. “Go, Loki. Get everyone else out of here.” He ignored me and sent a warning out to the others over coms. Mine was apparently the only one not working. I heard Nelson let out a short laugh at my confusion. “Of course we knew you were here, 9213. We may not be able to hack all of Stark’s tech but we can manage to fry a single com unit.”  Hydra didn’t refer to any of their assets by names. It was either “soldier” for those that they tried to replicate the winter soldier on or by your file number. I was file number 9213. Just as I was about to respond, the bomb went off. Without thinking, I dove towards it and used my powers to contain the explosion. Loki punched Nelson, knocking him out. The exertion of trying to hold the explosion in place was starting to get to me. “Loki, I need to let this go. Is everyone out?” he nodded and I told him to go as well. He didn’t move but I couldn’t hold it anymore so I pushed it as far as I could in the opposite direction of Loki. The force of the explosion threw me into the shelves and just before everything went black I realized that Nelson was nowhere to be seen.

                                              --2 weeks later--

I sighed in frustration as I rolled over and adjusted the pillow for what felt like the hundredth time. Every single time I lay down and close my eyes to sleep since we got back from the mission, I can hear a rhythmic humming noise but when I open my eyes to try and find the source of the noise, it disappears. Giving up on sleep, I made my way to the kitchen for a midnight snack. “Oh for fucks sake, why does Thor keep putting the Oreos on the top shelf?” I grumbled to myself as I climbed up on the counter to reach my favorite cookies and heard a low chuckle behind me. “Need some help with that, Love?” I turned around with my arms crossed and looked down at Loki from where I was standing on the counter. “You could have offered before I climbed up here...” I pouted. After grabbing the Oreos and Loki helping me down from the counter, we sat on the couch together. Loki was almost always awake late at night so we had developed a sort of routine. We sat and talked for a few hours about everything or we sat and read together. Tonight was a reading kind of night but after a few minutes of comfortable silence he said “So what’s been keeping you up this late, Darling? Sleepless nights are my forte but before recently, I rarely saw you up and about after midnight.” I didn’t know how to explain the nonexistent noise that was plaguing me and keeping me awake without sounding crazy. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation I sighed and said “Ever since we got back from the mission a couple weeks ago, I hear this humming noise whenever I am trying to sleep but its almost like I’m hearing it through a wall. It’s muted but loud at the same time.” He gave me a look of concern “You hit your head pretty hard on that mission.. you were knocked out until we got back home to the compound. You should talk to Banner and make sure you’re ok.” I told him I would talk to Banner when he came down from his room. The sun was just starting to rise and I wanted to go up to the roof to enjoy the peace that always comes with the way the sun slowly chases the darkness away. 

I had been up on the roof for an hour, enjoying the quiet with my eyes closed and my face turned towards the sun. This was my favorite place to meditate and destress. After relaxing and getting my mind to go blank, I started to hear the noise again. Instead of immediately opening my eyes like I had been at night, I tried to focus on the noise to see if I could tell what it was. The humming noise started to die down some and I started hearing a slight beeping in its place. Just as I was about to give up, I heard a familiar voice say “(Y/n)? Can you hear me?” but when I opened my eyes there was no one on the roof with me. With the addition of hearing voices added to my list of problems I decided to give up on meditating and head down to the clinic to see Bruce. When I got to the clinic and told him what was going on he gave me a concerned look. After he ran a few tests, Banner came back into the clinic and I could tell by the look on his face that he was just as confused as I was. “Nothing in the tests suggests that there is any residual damage from the hit you took and you passed the hearing tests with flying colors so I don’t think that it affected your auditory cortex.” he said as he sat back in the chair across from me, rubbing his chin in deep thought. I could tell it was truly bothering him that something was wrong and he couldn’t figure out what it was or how to fix it. There was a knock on the door and Loki peeked his head in, “Are you alright, (Y/N)?”  I smiled at him and gestured to the seat next to me, inviting him to come sit. As he sat down Bruce said “So you said you only hear it when trying to sleep or when you let your mind go blank while meditating?” I nodded and he said “OK so I have an idea. What if we try giving you something to help you sleep? You can sleep here in the clinic so we can monitor everything and maybe get some answers on what’s going on with you.” He must have seen the hesitancy on my face because he was immediately reassuring me that I would be 100% safe and looked after at all time. Loki grabbed my hand and said “I will sit by your side while you rest and look after you myself.” This calmed my nerves a bit and I reluctantly agreed. After Bruce administered the meds and I got comfortable, I was beginning to feel pretty drowsy. Loki and Banner had pulled the comfortable couch from the library into the clinic and put nice cozy blankets on it for me. Loki had set up a chair next to me and was quietly reading out loud because he knew it helped to calm my nerves. As I drifted off to sleep the sound of his voice slowly faded and in its place was the humming. I started to notice more noises added to the humming. A steady beeping noise, hushed voices that I couldn’t quite make out, and I swear I could hear someone snoring. I reached up to scratch my nose and heard a gasp. “She moved. (Y/n)? Are you awake? Can you hear me?” I knew that voice. Why did I know that voice? I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. “What the hell is this?” I asked. My hand immediately went to my throat, surprised by how raspy and dry my voice sounded and the harsh feeling in my throat as if I hadn’t used my voice in a very long time. I was surrounded by strangers in white coats. “Who are you? Where am I?” I tried to move but realized I was hooked up to machines. Wires and IV lines getting tangled as I moved. The beeping was coming from a heart monitor next to my bed. I was in a hospital. Did Nelson find a way to take me away from the compound? I raised my hand in an attempt to use my powers and make a run for it but nothing happened. I looked at my hand in confusion and then searched the room for any kind of clue as to what the hell was happening. There was a small tv on in the corner that caught my attention. The team was on the tv. It was in New York and they were fighting aliens. “Is that the news? What happened?” everyone was looking at me. A small woman slowly sat on the end of the hospital bed and put a hand on my foot. The familiar voice from earlier came from her and said “(Y/n), honey, thats just a movie. Its your favorite movie. Remember? The Avengers?”

[punkremus]

okay, i have listened to the playlist in full and here are my thoughts (please forgive my rambling; i had so much fun with this and it allowed me to procrastinate the next chapter so truly thank you ❤️):

“go fuck yourself”: as i listened, i tried to categorize them into either din/reader/or reader&din songs and this one felt very din&reader. just this tandem slog through life beside one another without really being together (yet).

“fresh blood”: oh a din song, absolutely. the line “i know you’re probably gettin’ ready for bed” made me think of gorgu too 😩

“help i’m alive”: shit that’s the reader in a nutshell omg. “hard to be tough/tough to be tender” OOF

“i come with knives”: BITCH THE VIBES OF THIS SONG. right off the bat. damn! idk wtf they’re saying in the german section, but i’m fucking here fOR IT!!!!

“angel of small death…”: i am obsessed with the idea of the reader somehow being seen as this tiny, magnificent force. like so much bigger than herself even though she doesn’t realize it quite yet.

“sour times”: ooh, this song. gosh, where to start? it has such a dangerous thread to it. it makes me think of them tiptoeing around one another in this eggshell sort of dance, not knowing who will break first. cHilLS

“broken boy solider”: someone give DIN DJARIN A HUG. this is his inner theme song on a constant loop.

“if you run”: wow—such a change of pace, but i love it. i think NH has such a grungy, metal feel to it (idk what i’m talking about) but also some folksy whimsy and this song fits that perfectly in my head. also: “fading into each other’s arms/he took her down to his hiding place” i don’t think that’s supposed to be romantic, but i’m pretending it is. sue me.

“give up the ghost”: this song makes me kinda emo. a din&reader to be sure. them both just wanting to be loved by each other, too afraid to ask. FUCK.

“black flies”: yES another folksy! the refrain at the end really gets me good. right in the heart.

“gasoline”: aw hell yeah. another reader BOP. she’s got such a bitchy vibe; i love it.

“dark”: shit… “I am the dark one in my bloodline/I fear my shadow like a beast/It's a lingering mellow that won't leave me/I fear one day it'll swallow me whole” is this…. her backstory in a nutshell? idk, you tell me.

“fuel to the fire”: this gives me reader addressing din vibes. like a pained loved letter to him.

“biting down”: to be frank, i don’t know what the fuck this song is talking about. but somehow, in relation to nighthawks, i get it.

“no one knows”: DIN. A DIN SONG. BECAUSE HE’S LIKE A BLANK BILLBOARD, IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE, IMPOSSIBLE TO READ. LOVE IT.

“virgin”: the chorus of this song… damn. i don’t know how to describe what it makes me imagine. them, together, still unsure of their future, just… trying?

“bully”: the line “bet you never though that I could be the one to let you down” makes me think of this as another song addressing din. woof.

“toxic”: britney, is that you? almost, but this version is better.

“master’s hands”: i feel like i’m ascribing every song to the reader and not enough to din….. but….. i just love her.

“hearing damage”: ooh! this is an interesting one! “You wish you felt better/In my eyes” feels quite din to me?

“howling”: oh fuuuuuuuuck they’re gonna be so in love one day and this is gonna be IT for them. “You were plush and I laid bare” DAMMIT

“troubled waters”/“patron saint hunter”: i just love the folksy vibe nighthawks can have at the same time as the metal/headbangers. i’m so glad that comes through the fic and i’m not the only one who felt that way.

“easy”: again, lorde with these confusing bangers that somehow just…. are chef’s kiss and fit perfectly to the mood of the fic. at least in my head!

“third eye”: this again feels like a song for the future of the fic, as things begin to unfold for them and they become more comfortable with one another.

“howl”: this definitely feels like a din&reader song! makes me wanna shimmy my shoulders hehe

“clockwork”: how do you find these songs that just fit them both so perfectly? there’s lines that could go for one or the other or for both and just… YOUR BRAIN

i cannot thank you enough for the gift of this playlist. it means more than you know. ❤️

Oh my god. OH MY GOD YOU WENT THROUGH EACH ONE??

Whew. Okay.

I am so glad you like this!! Music is how I process things, and it's like the only thing I contribute to fandom. My spotify looks like a crazy person's. Seriously.

I just gahhhhh!! Thank you for taking them time to write all this out. And I have some other Thoughts ✨

1. go fuck yourself: sexy vibes, but like, you hate this person. big vibes for current nighthawks.

2. fresh blood: again, sexy vibes but the line "beautiful woman get out of my head" just reminds me of Din thinking about Reader in the last chapter.

3. help i'm alive: I mean, that's just Reader. But also Din. I feel like they are such good parallels of each other.

4. I come with knives: again, just Reader. I love her, your honor.

5. Angel of small death: reader is a pint sized power house and it breaks Din's brain. That is all.

6. Sour times: I feel like even though they don't get each other yet, Din and Reader are so similar. "Nobody loves me it's true, not like you do"

7. Broken boy soldier: so I was actially thinking of Reader for this, but it totally fits for Din too now that I'm thinking about it. But just the line "I'm throwing the childhood things away" reminds me of Reader and Jeelia.

8. If you run: "if you run, you better have a place to go" that is all.

9. Give up the ghost: they both have so much baggage to work through, it thought it was a good song.

10. Black flies: "I don't want to beg your pardon, I don't want to ask you why, if I was to go my own way, would I have to pass you by"

11. Gasoline: just. Sex with no feelings vibes. (For now 👀)

12. dark: hit the nail on the head. Just tons of past Reader thoughts.

13. Fuel to fire: I mean, that's just their relationship in a title so far.

14. Biting down: this whole song is a drug reference, but the vibe reminds me of just bracing yourself through the pain because it's all you know and it's better than the alternative

15. No one knows: "oh what you do to me, no one knows" fun fact - I like this version better than the original (QOTSA fans, don't come at me)

16. Virgin: this entire song is about how you can devote your life to something (creed/son, or family/sister) and it can still be taken away in an instant

17. Bully: "I like it when you play too rough, so tell me when you've had enough"

18. Toxic: I mean...the ultimate dark sexy vibes

19. Master's Hands: "Pull my strings and cut my rope, rattle my frame and shatter my ghost" works with Din teaching her hunting and also works for sexy times 😏

20. hearing damage: "a tear in my brain allows the voices in" and "they say you're getting better, but you don't feel any better"

21. howling: "Cold I fell into your skin on the night you let me under your sin. You had me howling"

22. troubled waters: big reader and her past vibes. "I must be one of the devil's daughters"

23. patron saint hunter: "keep the family in, keep the family sin" and "evil isn't in your core"...i just love Reader okay

24. Easy: "easy, pull out your heart to make the being alone easy" they're just two lonely people with so much baggage, don't look at me

25. Third eye: "don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light" and "Cause there's a hole where your heart lies, I see it with my third eye."

26. Howl: "you are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl"

27. Clockwork: one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite bands. "Just like clockwork I react. You wind me up until I crack."

Aaaaaanywayyyy I'm just so happy you like it and I absolutely cannot wait for whatever you write next ✨

[thewalkingdeadimaginings]

When I Found You

Can I have a Tara x fem reader where the reader and her family are a new group Alexandrian's meet and Tara starts to fall for her ? X

 Hey guys! I know I’ve been away, not updating anything for the last year. I guess I haven’t felt too much motivation with everything that’s been going on this past year. And my mental health has gone up and down a lot lately. I’ve…developed anxiety? Which is a weird feeling. But on a more positive note, I turned 26 on March 4th so that’s exciting. Anyways, I thought with my return, I’d try something new. I currently have two work-in-progress one shots that I’ve been stuck on so I’m setting them aside for now. I hope you enjoy this.

 Note: Y/M/N = Your mom’s name // Y/D/N = Your dad’s name

 Also, just know that hate will NOT be tolerated and any negative comments will be deleted and you’ll be blocked. If you’re anti-LGBTQ+, I don’t know what you’re doing here anyway following a bisexual writer so…just so ya know…keep all nasty comments to yourself.

             Was it bad to fall in love so easily? Tara always found herself in trouble because of that so she’d always felt it was. She’d had her heart broken so many times, lost so many that maybe it was best for her to be alone. At least for a little while. She’d made peace with it by now, keeping herself busy by going on more runs, taking more shifts at the gate, and any other small tasks that needed to be done.

             “Hey, I’m here to relieve you,” Rosita declared as she climbed up to the top of the fence to stand beside Tara, “Maybe now you can go relax. I’m tired just watching you. Are you okay?”

             “Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Tara replied, “Just…trying to keep busy, ya know? No big deal.”

             “I get it,” Rosita said, “I just think you should maybe slow down a little bit. You don’t wanna overwork yourself. No one would hold it against you.”

             Before Tara could argue further, she was interrupted by Michonne, who was emerging from the woods and making her presence known so Eugene could open up the gate. She had a small group with her, though Tara couldn’t make out the details on who they were. But it appeared to be an older couple and a young woman with them. Tara, completely ignoring her friend’s advice, climbed down to meet Michonne.

             “What’s going on?” Tara inquired as Michonne stepped through the gate, “New people?”

             Michonne nodded, “This is Y/N and these are her parents, Y/M/N and Y/D/N. Y/N was fighting off walkers practically on her own. They needed proper shelter here.”

             Tara turned to meet your gaze and her words caught in her throat at first. Seeing how beautiful you were even slightly hidden under blood stains was almost overwhelming at first. But she had to stop herself. No, she remembered it was a bad thing to fall so easily. You hadn’t even spoken to her yet. She couldn’t get caught up in a pretty face.

             “All on your own?” Tara finally managed, “Impressive. You must be exhausted.”

             “Anything for my mom and dad,” you replied with a small chuckle. You stuffed your hands in your pants pockets and let out a heavy sigh, “But yeah, I’m pretty tired. We’re lucky that Michonne found us. I don’t know how much longer we would’ve made it out there. I’m pretty impressed myself actually. Never thought I’d see…I dunno…civilization again.”

             “Neither did I,” Tara said, “But there’s plenty of other communities just like us. World’s getting a little bigger these days.”

             You nodded in agreement as your parents walked off with Michonne. You pointed at the three of them as you started to follow, “I should get going, get cleaned up and sleep for once. What’d you say your name was?”

             “I didn’t, it’s Tara,” she replied.

             You grinned as you gave Tara a playful salute, “Well, I’ll see you around, Tara.”

 * * *

             The next few days, Tara tried her best to keep things light with you because the more time you spent together, the harder it would soon become to suppress any feelings. But you were certainly not making it easy with the way you smiled at her, the way you touched her arm while you spoke. Sometimes, she just wasn’t able to avoid you as the two of you had guard duty together. You were quiet for a while which was a relief for Tara but she also couldn’t stand the silence between the two of you.

             “So…” Tara said, finally breaking the silence. She felt your eyes on her but she wouldn’t turn to face you, “You never told me where you were from before all this.”

             “I was from Connecticut,” you said, “I was living with my boyfriend at the time. We got separated in the very beginning and I haven’t seen him since. I have no idea if he’s alive.”

             Tara’s heart sank at the mention of a boyfriend. It was probably better this way anyway. Tara couldn’t risk your life just because she caught feelings too quickly. She sighed and gave you a small nod, “I’m sorry to hear that. I just lost my girlfriend. I won’t get into details but…it’s been hard.”

             “Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss,” you replied, “It doesn’t get easier even when all you know is death now, ya know?”

             Tara nodded in agreement, “Yeah. It makes me…hesitant to let anyone in again. Denise…she wasn’t the first girlfriend I lost. It just…feels like maybe I’m meant to be alone.”

             “Oh Tara,” you mumbled. You placed your hand on her shoulder and lightly squeezed, running your hand back and forth across her upper back. Your touch made her shiver but she tried her best to hide it, “Tara, no one’s meant to be alone. Humans are social creatures. We need other people. I think the world has shown us that lately. We can’t make it alone.”

             “I guess I can’t argue with that,” Tara said, leaning slightly into your arms, “It’s just scary, ya know?”

             “I know,” you said, “You’ll get through this. It looks like you have a great family here. And you can always talk to me too. As long as you don’t keep avoiding me like you have been.”

             “Y/N, I haven’t been avoiding you,” Tara replied nervously, “I’ve just been…busy.”

             “Look, I’m not stupid,” you said sternly, “I’m not sure what I did but I hope one day, you can feel comfortable enough to talk to me.”

             “It’s nothing you did,” Tara said, “It’s…it’s complicated.”

             “No, I get it,” you said, “You just said you’re afraid to let people in again. But I can promise you that I’m not going anywhere. I’ve survived things that should’ve killed me but I’m still here. You don’t have to be afraid of losing me.”

             Tara stared at you for a long time, her eyes drifting down to your mouth, your tongue darting across your lips. You smiled warmly at her, reaching up to hold her face in your hands, “We’re gonna be fine, right?”

             “Yeah,” Tara said in a whisper. Her body moved involuntarily and she acted before she could even think it, leaning in to kiss your lips. You surprised her by welcoming her kiss, your hands moving to the back of her neck. It felt like such a relief to kiss you, to feel her touch, like she was starving for it. The relief didn’t last long though. As her head began to clear, she started thinking about what she’d just done and she quickly pulled away from you, “Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to…I…”

             “Hey,” you said softly after a moment of stunned silence, “It’s okay, Tara. I’m not upset I actually-”

             Tara scrambled down the ladder, “I have to go. I’ll send someone to relieve me. But I’ve gotta go.”

             “Tara, wait!” you called out after her. You wanted to run after her but you couldn’t leave the fence without someone watching it so all you could do was watch Tara walk off in a huff, “Tara! Fuck.”

 * * *

             After asking Rosita to take over with guard duty for the rest of her shift, Tara stayed hidden in her house for the rest of the afternoon. Rosita had asked what happened but Tara couldn’t bring herself to explain it. She forced a kiss on a girl who obviously wasn’t interested in women. Everything about that was wrong and she couldn’t stand to face you for that.

             Hours had passed with Tara lying on her couch staring at the ceiling when there was a knock on her door, “Tara, open up. It’s me, Y/N. I know you’re home.”

             “Y/N, I don’t feel like talking,” Tara groaned. The door swung open and you stood at the doorway, pointing at Tara with a grimace on your face. Tara sat up, eyes wide in shock, “Y/N! What the hell?”

             “I’m not leaving until we talk about this,” you snapped as you slammed the door behind you. Approaching the couch, you jabbed Tara in the shoulder, “Now, why would you avoid me, then kiss me, then run away from me? You know you’re giving me whiplash!”

             “You know why I’ve been avoiding you?” Tara grumbled, “Because I like you, okay?! But you’re not into women and then I kissed you anyway even though I knew that. How are you not upset?”

             “Maybe you should’ve let me finish my sentence earlier before you ran off,” you snarled, “Because I was going to say that I wasn’t upset. I actually liked it. I liked kissing you.”

             “But you’re-”

             “I said I had a boyfriend, I never said I was straight,” you interjected, “I had a girlfriend until about a month or so ago. And I was like you! I thought I’d never find another person that I could feel that way for ever again. And then I walked through those gates and saw you and everything changed for me. You know how hard it was on me being avoided by you? I had to switch things around just to end up on guard duty with you.”

             “Wow,” Tara sighed, “I had no idea.”

             “Because you weren’t letting yourself,” you said. You let out a sigh and you flopped down on the couch by Tara’s feet, patting her legs, “I’m sorry for the rant, Tara. I’ve just never met anyone so frustrating and stubborn. But I really liked that kiss.”

             “Yeah?” Tara said, tucking her legs under her body and scooting closer to you. You moved with her until there were only inches separating you, “Well, I’m sorry for cutting it short then.”

             You tucked her dark hair behind her ear, biting your bottom lip, “We could always pick it up where we left off.”

             Before Tara could make the move, you gripped onto her neck and pulled her in for another kiss. Tara felt you smile against her lips before you pulled away, letting out a giggle, “I really like you a lot, Tara. And I’m not going anywhere.”

             Tara’s cheeks ached with how much she was smiling as she rested her hands on your hips, “I don’t intend on letting anything ever happen to you.”

             As you pulled her back in for another kiss, this one more aggressive than the last, Tara felt like the fear in her was melting away. She never thought she’d be able to open up to another person and then there you were, almost like you were sent here to show her she didn’t have to be afraid. Maybe falling fast wasn’t such a bad thing sometimes.

 HEY GUYS I’M GLAD TO BE BACK. I hope this turned out okay. Love you guys so much. Maybe I’ll update one of my stories next? What do you guys think?

[considermewhelmed]

See You Again by Wiz Khalifa (ft. Charlie Puth)- Dick Grayson and Jason Todd

a/n: strap in folks. This is going to hurt.

taglist: @river9noble

Master

part 2

-

“It's been a long day without you, my friend/And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again/We've come a long way from where we began/Oh, I'll tell you all about it when I see you again/When I see you again.”

“Damn, who knew?/All the planes we flew/Good things we've been through/That I'll be standing right here talking to you/'Bout another path/I know we loved to hit the road and laugh/But something told me that it wouldn't last/Had to switch up/Look at things different, see the bigger picture/Those were the days/Hard work forever pays/Now I see you in a better place.”

“The love will never get lost/And when brotherhood come first/Then the line will never be crossed/Established it on our own/When that line had to be drawn/And that line is what we reach/So remember me when I'm gone.”

-

October 18, 9:30pm.

“Jason? Jason, where are you? You need to pick up- Bruce called me, freaking out because you’ve been spotted in Europe? I know you wanted to find your mom but Jesus Christ Jay, where are you? Pick up your goddamn phone, at least let me know you’re safe, that you’re okay. I won’t even tell Bruce. Just tell me you’re alright, okay? Call me back as soon as possible.” 

October 18, 11:48pm. 

“Hey. Sorry. I don’t know what to say. When I heard… Bruce told me. I didn’t really want to believe it. I still don’t really want to believe it. I’m just… I’m so sorry.” 

October 21, 5:36pm.

“You’re everywhere. God. You’d probably hate it. Everyone talks about the tragedy. They don’t really know what happened. They just know that you… that you’re gone. I wish you were gone. Completely. It would be easier to handle if you were. I’m sorry.” 

October 31, 1:01am.

“I was supposed to pick you up, remember? We were going to go trick or treating in Bludhaven, because we never had that before. Because I was in the circus. And you… anyways, you said I should go as Green Lantern because you think if it could, a green ring would pick me anyways. No fear, huh? Well. I was always scared of something, Little Wing. God you hated it when I called you that I’m sor-” 

November 13, 4:13pm.

“It’s been almost a month and your face still shows up sometimes on the news. I miss you.” 

December 1, 2:52am.

“Bruce isn’t the same without you Little Wing. He’s reckless. Careless. I think he’s going to get himself killed. It’s kind of… terrifying. Clark’s worried. The League’s keeping an eye on him. I wish I could. But… god it just hurts to be in the Cave right now. I’m sorry.” 

December 20, 9:38pm.

“I was helping Alfred put the decorations up. No ones really feeling festive but… we had to do something I guess. We got the stockings up, and… I’ve never seen Alfred cry over anything, but he just couldn’t stop when he saw your stocking. I… I put it up in my room. I wanted to feel like you were here for the holidays. Sometimes I feel like you’re going to burst through the door anymore like it was some sort of joke-” 

December 25, 12:02am. 

“Merry Christmas Little Wing.” 

January 3, 3:26pm.

“I don’t know why I keep calling this number. You don’t pick up. I know you won’t pick up. But I miss you. This is the only way I hear you anymore. I wish you were calling me for tips and tricks again. I wish I had known you were in trouble. I wish I was fast enough to get you. I wish you’d never gotten into this in the first place, you were so young, you didn’t deserve to go out like this, god it’s just not right-”

January 26, 7:09pm.

“Today was a good day. We took in a stray dog, kept him safe and found his owner. He’d run away because he was spooked by a loud car. He was a German Shepard, I remember you saying you had one when you were really little, his name was Buddy, right? Anyways, I think that saving stray dogs and getting cats out of trees and helping lost kids find their parents are the best parts of this job.” 

February 15, 1:29am. 

“I’m so sorry Little Wing, I think I forgot that joke you told me. I was trying to tell Kori and I forgot the punchline and I wish you were here to tell me it again because it was really funny and I think she would really like it. I think you would like her Jay, she’s a spitfire, you’d get a kick out of how she keeps us all in line. You’d like this crew. You’d like it here. I’m sorry.” 

March 29, 3:06am. 

“I’m sitting here, in the Batcave. Looking at Bruce, passed out from a fight that took a sharp turn. It was stupid, he’s beaten Mr. Freeze so many times, he was making rookie mistakes and I just don’t know what to do anymore. He… he hit me Jay. He’s not the same. I asked Alfred, if this is what happened when his folks… when they… anyways, he said no. He said he fought to be better. So why is he trying to get himself kil-” 

April 04, 6:45pm. 

“I don’t even… fuck.” 

April 04, 6:49pm.

“Okay so, this kid, he’s like, 12? 13? He comes up to me and he’s like ‘I know who you are’ and I’m sitting here thinking this kid has some affinity for the Flying Graysons or something ‘cause that has happened before. But no. No this kid, his name is Tim by the way, Tim is like ‘I know you’re Nightwing and Jason Todd was Robin and Bruce Wayne is Batman and’- fuck, Jay you should’ve heard this kid-”

April 04, 6:52pm. 

“And he’s like ‘I know Jason died and now Batman’s being stupid because he doesn’t have a Robin to care about so you should come back and be Robin again because Batman needs Robin’. Jesus Christ Jason, this kid, I swear, he genuinely believes if I don’t go back to being Robin, Bruce is going to go completely off the deep end. And I think he’s sort of right, but I don’t think me going back to Robin will fix it-” 

April 04, 6:54pm. 

“I’m also a grown ass man with my own life, and my own identity, and I worked so hard to get out from Bruce Wayne and Batman’s shadow and I don’t even want to go back to Robin. I like Nightwing. Besides, with how things are going with me and Bruce, I don’t think he’d take me back to begin with. And now he knows things and fuck things got pretty fucked up after you… after you… fuck.” 

April 26, 1:22am. 

“I’ve never wanted to harm a child more in my life, Jay. This jerk started tracking me down on patrol, still trying to convince me to go back. I’m not going back. It’s not happening.” 

May 11, 8:47pm. 

“This isn’t a Tim update. I just. I was starting to forget what your voice sounded like. I still can’t remember that joke. I’m sorry Little Wing. Thanks for listening. I’m sorry. I miss you. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better big brother, I should’ve been better. I’m sorry.” 

June 18, 5:14am. 

“Tim had officially been taken under Batman’s wing. He saved Bruce today. No training. No strength. No guidance. Just a shit ton of will and heart. Kind of reminds me of you, when you were first starting out. The you behind all those walls you built to protect yourself. I wish you would’ve torn more of those down for us. He starts training today. I’m going to help. I don’t think Bruce should do this but, what do I know?” 

July 04, 9:00pm. 

“You always liked the fireworks in Gotham on the Fourth of July. You’d wanna sit by the water and watch the colours burst through the sky. It was like, the one night a year Bruce would let you take the night off when you were healthy so that Alfred and I could take you. He’d join us if it was a quiet night. You remember that? He’d come with us. For a minute it felt like we were just a normal family.” 

August 16, 12:00am. 

“I always liked to be the first one to say it. Happy Birthday Little Wing. I love you kiddo.” 

September 1, 5:19pm. 

“I keep forgetting your voice. For a scary minute today, I couldn’t picture your face. When was the last time I hugged you? I’m sorry. I should’ve done it more.” 

October 18, 11:45pm. 

“I…” 

October 18, 11:49pm. 

“I can’t…” 

October 18, 11:55pm. 

“It’s been a really long year, Jay. I hope wherever you are, you’re with my folks. They’d love you, I think. Say hi for me. Give them a hug for me. I love you. I miss you. I wish I could see you again, I’d give just about anything to give you one more hug. I remembered that joke. Kori didn’t quite understand it, but she says you sound like a good kid. … I love you Little Wing.”