#( ch: a live wire spitting spark. )

[soundsofwinter]

i only have one match

@daftnegreengrass

The construction worker’s words were going in one ear and out the other, Seamus nodding along as the two of them surveyed the site where the demolition work was going to take place. He’d done this enough times now that he didn’t need a thorough runthrough of how it all worked. That was why he was contracted to begin with. He was an explosives expert, moreso than any of the muggles he was working with realized. He had been entrusted by McGonagall to blow up draw bridges, after all. What had once only been mistakes, accident-prone as he was, now was morphing into a decent profession. 

His Da continued to poke him in the direction of the military, insisting that his expertise could be well-utilized in the Irish military. Seamus had already fought through a war, however, and he wasn’t certain that he wanted to throw himself back into the battlefield. But he was considering it, going through the background check process in order to keep his options open. His Mam would much rather see him doing something else -- really, anything else, considering that she had been against his decision to remain in Hogwarts during his final year while Voldemort reigned to begin with. 

“And here is the layout that we are going for,” the supervisor unraveled the paper, showing off the plans for the reconstructions of the condos in the neighborhood. “So we need to get rid of the obstructions that are currently where we intend to have the parking lot, and the children’s park.” Seamus nodded along idly, aptly listening for any directives that may be pertinent. The supervisor shortly thereafter excused himself, being pulled away by one of his subordinates who wanted him to check out a problem area where they were concerned about the piping or something of the sort. 

Seamus readjusted his pack, breaking from the site to observe the residents who were going through the motions of mundane life. A few of them were coming in with a pile of plastic bags containing groceries, others were out walking their dogs or taking their children to the nearby ice cream parlor. How nice it must be, Seamus thought, to continue on like nothing happened. Even a month later, Seamus was finding it hard to shake off the dust of war. 

Even when he was among mostly muggles, his thoughts drifted to the wizarding world. It seemed that he was continually haunted, as if he had never left the corridors of Hogwarts, catching sight of one girl who reminded him of a student in his class. Slytherin. One of those who hung around Malfoy and his crew. Greengrass? 

Nah, he must be mistaken. She probably was just similar in appearance, considering that the girl was a pureblood. One of those Sacred ones. He doubted he’d see her, Parkinson, Zabini, or any of the rest of them so close to muggles. 

[fanatic-scribe]

Gasp

Chapter 1/? Void

Fandom: Rise of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Word count: 3,928/5,564

Ao3: Here

Characters: Donatello (main), Everyone else are side characters.

Warnings: Badly written fight scene, Not really character death, Heavy angst, Swearing.

Ch 1 / / Ch 2 / /

Summary: Slowly Donatello opened his eyes and looked up at the swirl of bubbles and bits of the bright lights of New York sparkled against the black water get further and further away. Donatello wondered where the slight tinge of red was coming from as it twisted and disperse with the bubbles above him. It almost looked like a galaxy, a galaxy just below the surface of the water.

A/N: Not beta read so just let me know if you see mistakes. Constructive criticism is welcomed! based on @teetlebros angst idea but I made it super long for some reason. This work will be tagged with #gasp rottmnt

Originally tonight was supposed to be a movie night with April but soon the turtle’s had found themselves chasing a band of mutants through the night. Raphael had made the quick decision to chase after them, he told April to wait for them at the cinema and that they would be back soon. She was too smart to believe that. April had started to run after them to join the fight, battle damaged wooden bat secure in her hards. After all no one stepped up to her friends and ruined their movie night!

The group had all chased them to the middle of bridge in Queens, it was dark and they seemed to have lost sight of the mutants. They stopped to look around into the black night, April breathing a little heavier than her friends. None of brother could see trouble but they sensed something, every nerve in their body was one edge for an unseen danger. They all wordlessly shifted into a position where they were surrounding April protectively, weapons at the ready.

Raphael and Donatello locked eyes for a moment before Donatello nodded and pulled his goggles down over his eyes. Just as he had adjusted the goggles a crow of creatures came from under and over the bridge. It was hard to make out in the darkness but because of this goggles he could see they looked to be like mutants, mutant bug monkeys. They were all different, some had multiple arms or legs, others had wigs and they were all of different sizes. Yet they had similarities, sharp claws, hard exoskeletons in the pattern of armor and mandibles. Fur could be seen between bits of the armored plates. They came out hissing and making noises like a monkey and like a monster, they were a truly ghastly sight.

“Oh, shit that’s not good.” Was all the purple clad turtle managed to say before the creatures came into view of the others. All of them put in their two cents speaking at the same time,

“What the actually fuck?”

“Uh, that’s nasty!”

“I am incredibly jealous of people who have never seen these.”

“If you squint they are kinda’ cute.”

Without hesitation the creatures attacked with a series of high pitched roars and screeches.

“Everyone! Keep these ape bugs away from April!” Raphael shouted as the largest of the said creatures, only slightly smaller than the turtle, snarled and charged at the turtle with a scream. Raphael charged back with his own battle cry pulling back to punch at the creature.

“I think you should be keeping them from me big red!” April cheered as she bounded into the air confidently wielding her bat, aiming for some of the smaller flying creatures.

“Come on Raph,”Leonardo teased, his grip tight on his sword, “let Leon come up with the badass names. I think they should be called-” he was interrupted by one of the creatures lunged for the blue ninja. Like a blur he dodged out of the way and swiped his sword through it, he then dramatically posed with a huge smirk on his face, “Spider Monkeys.”

“Not to be the one to correct you Leo, even though I love to correct people,” Donatello spun his staff to hit an approaching foe, “not only are spider monkeys actually a thing that already exists,”He spun and set the rocket on his staff and threw it, “but these are all a bunch of different bugs and different primates mutated together, none of which are spiders. So we can’t call them all Spider Monkeys.”

“Still, it’s a better name than ape bugs.”

“How about Arthro-apes?”

“Donnie,” Leonardo looked hurt as he leaned on his sword, “that was really terrible.” Donatello scowled at him making Leonardo crack a small smile. Donatello caught his staff as it returned to him and smirked, looking his brother in the eye.

“Shut up Leo.”

Michelangelo came bounding into the scene with a roll and acrobatic landing, “Why not flip it,” There was a slight pant to his words as he spoke, most likely from the excessive flare he put in his movements. He crossed his arms in front of him as a visual guide, “Instead of Spider Monkeys, Monkey Spiders.”

“I really don’t think that fixes anything really.”

“Again, I would just like to clarify, none of these are spiders.” Just then Raphael came crashing over to them with a loud yell, having been thrown by the largest of the remaining creatures, quickly followed by April still holding her bat in attack position.

Raphael was moving with so much force that the red turtle had crashed through the protective railing on the bridge, “Raph!” In the blink of an eye Donatello had already extended his metal arm from his pack to grab his brother, quickly pulling him back up.

“Thanks for the save there Don.”

“Yes you’re welcome. But on that note be careful everyone,” He pulled his goggles down and looked down at the water, “this is about a 50 meter drop to the water. It won’t kill you but it won’t feel great either.” pushing his goggles back to his head he turned to his brother’s, “If you fall and pass out we may not be able to get to you in time.”

“Got it.”Raphael nodded and standing up. “Everyone watch yourselves.”

As they all looked out at the creatures Donatello notices some of the already injured ones were leaving, he spun his bo-staff holding it defensively, “Guys there are still some left.” If they were running at the first sign a trouble this wouldn’t be the worst fight ever.

“Well then it shouldn’t be too hard to beat these spider monkey.” Leonardo smiled at Donatello earning him an eye roll, “Just came up with that one.”

“Alright,” Raphael gathered his team, “April, you go with Leo.”

“I have never felt more safe.” Leonardo said nudging April.

“Mikey back us up dude.” Michelangelo nodded with a smile, “And Donnie use your jetpack to get the flying spider monkey.”

“It is not a jetpack and not spiders but aye captain.”

“Ready guys?” There was a nod from everyone, “Then let’s go!”

With that Donatello took to the skies wind from the night air and the wiring of his pack filled his ears as he made a beeline for the flying enemy confidence filling his vision. He spun his staff round him to gain moment for each of his swings at the so called spider monkey. With a crack of his staff the mutants were falling followed by a few clever taunts from Donatello that no would ever hear. A few tried to get in close and even spit some dissolving saliva but each was cracked with a staff hard enough to damage the exoskeleton. With their toxin dodged they hit areas of the bridge’s beams where it slowly dissolved with a hiss and whine from the metal. Donatello paid little attention to this as he spun his weapon in celebration, his breath coming out in huffs from his fight. He had managed to swat down the last of the flying spider monkeys, now moving to focus his attention on his brother’s not noticing the figure bolting to him from above.

Before Donatello even knew what was coming a freakish looking creature bolted from the dark sky to land directly onto the turtle shaking and spinning them in the air. The spider monkey latched on with its feet gripping the turtle’s battle shell, two skinny arm with sharp claws were also tightly holding his shoulders. It’s wings were flapping and buzzing loudly while another pair of arms worked at battling his staff and reaching for the machine’s on his shell armor.

Donatello pushed harder against this creature, “Oh god get away from me! You are so disgusting!” he struggled and pushed but this spider monkey was too strong despite his small size. The spider monkey looked at him with the face of an ape, it’s four eyes were a hexagonal pattern of iridescent black and green giving way to no emotion, as it’s mouth opened revealing a jagged mandible dripping with spit. There was a high pitched bellow as it leaned forward, mandibles aimed directly for Donatello’s face.

Without a moment’s hesitation Donatello pulled one hand away from his staff to guard his face from whatever this would do, he didn’t care if it left him defenseless. The spider monkey bit directly into the tech gauntlet Donatello always wore. It growled angrily gnawing and then adjusting it’s bite only to get another mouthful of metal, sticky saliva begin to drip from it’s mouth. Seconds later Donatello cried out in pain as he felt a burning pain on his arm, he looked to see his gauntlet spark and dissolve against his arm burning him along with it. The spider monkey wildly lunged, continuing to try and bite Donatello’s head. Despite the burning on his arm he was able to dodge each attack, but only by inches.

Getting frustrated it pushed itself up high above the turtle going to bite at his head from above and with as much force as possible. Seeing a momentary opening to escape what seemed to be certain doom the turtle lifted up his legs and grabbed onto the spider monkey’s wings. With a loud kiai he kicked the spider monkey with both his legs and all his power, forcing the creature tumbling backwards to the ground but leaving it’s wings behind. Donatello dropped the wings and shook his hands that were covered in a sticky pale green goo. However, the celebration was short lived.

Donatello heard a beeping noise behind him immediately followed by him being violently yanked backwards by his battle shell.

With him being distracted by the spider monkey’s jaws Donatello didn’t notice the second pair of claws grip at his shell. His kick had managed to pull vital parts and circuitry from his battle shell propelling him backwards and directly into a metal beam. There was an audible crack hidden somewhere in the loud gong of titanium on steel.

“Oh no, was that me or the shell? ” Donatello thought to himself. He couldn't decided which he would prefer. As he fell to the ground me managed to dive and roll just before hitting the concrete, he did however continue to roll and tumble until he eventually stopped lying face first on the ground. His weapon fell conveniently right by his head a moment later.

Donatello turned his head with a groan just in time to see the creature already standing from it’s fall, a pale green oozing from were the wings use to be. It let a loud screech and started to charge to Donatello. Moving quickly with heavy limbs Donatello scrambled up to a seated position and reached for his weapon, all the while this spider monkey closing in on him growling and screeching. The moment Donatello was on one knee he turned on his staff’s jet, spun it quickly and flung it at the creature, him to be pushed back slightly. He watched his staff collide with the creature and then both of them fall through the hole Raphael had made. After a few seconds, and a slowly dulling howl, there was a splash.

Immediately Donatello worked to remove his tech gauntlet which was still causing a slight burn. Once it was removed he threw it to the side, holding his arm close to his chest and took a deep breath before examining it. The injuries were not terrible, some slight burns and cuts but nothing to terrible. Taking the moment of calm he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to relax his screaming nerves, he was bruised but nothing bad. He counted himself lucky.

Finally, only as he stood, he remembered the crack sound from his earlier crash with the beam. None of his bones seemed to complain as he stood. Also he could hear the slow sound of dying beeps from his battle shell. Donatello realized that the crack from earlier had definitely been his battle shell and not him. He was relieved, if only slightly. Then suddenly he realized. He didn’t have his staff.

Within seconds he was sprinting to the hole in the railing. Already in this battle he had lost his shell and gauntlet tech, if his staff had fallen in the water there was no way he could get it back until he finished tech repairs. He looked over the edge of the bridge where the hole was, trying to see if his staff was stuck on a beam even getting down on his knees for a closer look. He found nothing.

“Shit!” He said to himself. He rubbed his face with his hands and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Quite a wonderful night we are having! We should do this more often!” he said to the twisting void of the black water bellow. It calmed him, talking to things that could never respond back. At least the spider monkey was gone now. Finally gathering himself again Donatello turned to look back at his brothers, each still fighting their spider monkeys. He knew he needed to get back and help. After all he is ninja, anything can be a weapon when you’re ninja.

He was only able to rise to one knee before he felt sharp claws digging harshly into his ankle and pull him over the edge. The turtle fell face first onto the concrete ground and was slowly dragged across. Panic gripped his mind, with his battle shell disabled he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from falling into the dark water. He looked at his brother, all were busy with their own battles. He was alone and he had to get away.

Donatello was desperately clawing at the ground looking for anything to grab onto as he was dragged over. Finally he had managed to get a firm hold on the broken railing stopping his movements. Now that he was sure he wouldn’t fall he could focused his attention on getting this thing to let go of him. “Take your stinking paws off me you damn dirty ape!” Donatello held on tightly as he used his free leg to kick at the spider monkey. He had gotten a few good kicks in before he felt his body jerked downward, his hand starting to slowly slip on the smooth metal railing. Looking back at his safety line he didn’t notice the spider monkey reaching up until he felt the sharp pain of claws dig into his thigh drawing blood. He cried out loudly as the spider monkey clawed up his battle shell and dragging Donatello with all its might as he tried desperately to keep his hold.

Hearing the scream Raphael turned to its source, blood dripping from his nose. Donatello looked up at his brother with fear in his eyes. He reached a hand off the bar to his brother and leader, “Raphael!” He shouted desperately for help. Donatello saw his brothers eyes widen just as he felt clawed hands grab his shoulder and torso.

“Donnie!” Donatello saw his brother start to run to him before getting charged by his spider monkey, and then he was falling.

A high trilled scream from the spider monkey and the rush of air past Donatello’s ears was all he heard as he rushed to the water. Quickly, he tucked into a ball so that his battle shell would take the brunt of the impact since he couldn’t escape to his shell. He had never wished to be Mikey more in his life.

“If you fall and pass out we may not be able to get to you in time.” Echoed in his head the entire way down.

It took all of 3 seconds for Donatello to crash into the cold, unforgiving water. Immediately upon impact he had all of the air knocked out of his lungs and his head was in a daze. A sharp stab of pain in his leg snapped him out of his haze. He looked down and saw the deep gashes on his thigh from his earlier fight, he had to get to the surface and get it treated, other than that injury he seemed ok. Just a little sore maybe a pulled muscle, nothing he wasn’t use to. Good thing turtles are hardy.

The battle shell is the hardiest and strongest tech shell that Donatello owns, for obvious reasons. This made she shell incredibly heavy making it hard to swim in, under normal conditions Donatello would never be swimming in his battle shell. Luckily this was an easy fix. Because his universal controller was broken Donatello had to dislodge his battle shell manually. It wasn’t until he tried to unlatches the shell did he notice the shell was locked in place still attached to him, still dragging him deeper into the black water. Donatello was suddenly painful aware of his empty lungs as he saw the lights of the surface dim with each passing second.

Just as Donatello felt his ear pop from the pressure he started to kick his legs, almost like it was an alert that screamed, “ Start moving now dumbass! ” After only a few kicks he discovered his injured thigh wasn’t going to make this swim to the surface easy. Each movement shot a sharp pain through his body but he couldn’t stop, no matter what happened he had to keep trying to reach the surface. He reached his arm high using the light of the surface as a guide of which way was up, in the dark water it’s easy to get disoriented. With each stroke of his arms and kick of his legs Donatello was getting closer and closer to the surface the blurry lights of the city growing brighter. The slow pace of his swim didn’t worry the turtle in the slightest, he could hold a lung full of air for almost 30 minutes. All he had to do at this point was get a lung full of air.

It was when Donatello noticed the lights of the surface still did his arms and legs start to feel stiff. Each of his movements was slower and less powerful stopping his movement to the surface, his battle beaten muscles failing after working so hard. He closed his eyes, focused his mind and swam harder; as hard as he could have possibly swam; swam as if his life depended on it because, in this case, it truly did. However, it seemed that no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t keep up with the added weight on his back his overworked body couldn’t handle it any longer. It took every ounce of strength he had to keep from sinking lower but his limbs were feeling heavy with every stroke. His movement became more frantic. He was starting to panic. He had to swim. Now!

The longer he attempted to swim the slower his movements became, no matter how hard he swam he kept sinking further and further into the unforgiving black water. Then his lungs started to burn. In a last attempt to gain some headway the turtle pulled the last of his strength to make one last dash for the surface. However, even his adrenolin wasn’t enough to push his body to the surface. His lungs keep burning and screaming for him to breath, but his instinct to hold his breath held strong even as his body turned upside down from the weight of his shell. As Donatello felt his lungs start to burn he couldn’t help but wondered if it was from his own panicked mind or from lack of air. Neither option was preferable.

Eventually Donatello couldn’t fight it any longer, his lungs, just like his body, gave up and took a deep inhale. His lungs were so desperate for air but where meet only with the painful rush of water. It burned and stung Donatello’s sinuses and throat, clogging every inch of him leaving him gagged by water. There was a loud ringing in his ears that only intensified the pain, with each desperate cough he could inhale more water. His head felt like it was going to explode under all the pressure, his eyes squeezed tight from the feeling.

"Huh.” He thought to himself, “Drowning. What a terrible death for a turtle."  He chuckled to himself, "Leo would probably have a one liner for that.” Over the burning in his chest he realized he regretted it. The last real thing he said to Leonardo was ‘Shut up.’ even if it was a joke, he wish it had meant something.

Soon, he began to feel dizzy, he remembered reaching for his brother. Was that the right thing to do? “Hope Raph doesn’t think this is his fault for not grabbing me.” Then he felt weak and tired. Finally, he felt calm.

Never had Donatello felt so tranquil and calm. Looking back up at the blurry and dimming lights, he didn’t know if the creeping darkness was from the water or from his impending unconsciousness. He chose to ignore it. No point in getting more stressed out now.

An image seemed to flash before his eyes. A memory. A memory of Michelangelo. He was holding something. It was a 3DS, the 3DS that Donatello had promised he would hack for him. “Fuck, I was going to do that tomorrow.” He felt a pinch of guilt at leaving his brother like that.

He thought how funny it all was, moments ago he was fighting for his life with everything he had, all for nothing. Now he was still going to die despite the fight. Alone, to weak to move and surrounded by the quite void of the deep water.

Something else flashed in his him blurred mind, April still needs help with her science project. It was about rockets or machines or space. He couldn't remember now, "She's smart. She can do it." He told himself, he believed in her.

There was no more pain in his legs, no burning in his lungs and no arch in his wrist. It was almost like Donatello had left his body. Almost felt like he was waking up from a deep, long nap, and he was still in the after-effects of it.

“I should have slept more.”

As spots began to flash in his vision Donatello would only feel an overwhelming urge to sleep. Stronger than anything he had ever felt before and he was far too weak to refuse. He let his eyes flutter closed.

There was nothing left for him to do except fall asleep and let it end. Slowly he opened his eyes one last time and looked up at the swirl of bubbles, bits of the bright lights of New York sparkled against the black water burred from refraction. Donatello wondered where the slight tinge of red was coming from as it twisted and disperse with the bubbles above him. Small particles of debris shone past the light against the surface, Donatello wondered if is is what stars in the night sky looked like. It almost looked like a galaxy, a galaxy just below the surface of the water. Who know? Donatello couldn’t help but think how beautiful it all looked as he slowly sank, black spots starting to decorate his vision. He wasn’t scared. The space like lights of New York were a beautiful last sight.

Donatello's vision faded to black.

[ryder-s-block]

Jaig Eyes (Ch 6)

Jaig Eyes

Chapter 6/?

Always available here

Chapter Six: Visitation

“What you did today really was heroic, Miss Kida,” C-3PO exclaimed as he shuffled around Senator Amidala’s apartment. I rolled my eyes, keeping my gaze directed out the open walling to view Coruscant’s cityscape as the sun set.

“Thanks, 3PO,” I sighed, wincing as my wounds pulled with my movements.

“You’re still in pain.” Padme’s voice made me jump--something I wasn’t overly accustomed to doing, since I usually was less distracted. Still, since my reflections in the medbay, I wasn’t able to get my memories out of my head. Or the clone captain.

I glanced her way, smiling gently at her graceful figure descending the few stairs to her living room. She was clad in a beautiful draping dress that clasped around her neck, the color fading from a rich cream to a deep purple at the bottom.

“Isn’t the Coruscanti temperature a bit too cold for that?” I prodded, giving her a teasing glance.

“Oh shush,” she responded with a gentle smile, waving her hand at me. “Sure, the Naboo temperatures are warmer, but I’ve gotten used to it here.” She glanced at me as she stood beside where I perched on the edge of one of her luxurious couches. “Have you ever been to Naboo?”

“Sure,” I grinned. “But I’m not going to say why.”

“Probably because I wouldn’t like the answer,” she sighed.

I chuckled at her, looking out over the skyline with her. “So what’s the occasion?” I finally asked.

“No occasion,” she tried. And while I would’ve maybe believed any other senator known for her fashion sense, I could practically feel her carefully practiced facade. My eyebrow lifted as I went to cast a jest her way, but her door slid open. Despite my tight security systems that only allowed a few to access the doors, my hand settled on my pistol.

“Good evening,” I heard the familiar voice speak as he entered the apartment.

“Ah, Master Ani!” I smirked at 3PO’s nickname--one I’d heard Padme whisper as well. I turned on the arm of the couch as Skywalker entered the room, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Skywalker,” I greeted, unable to keep the mild amusement out of my tone as Padme squirmed under my gaze.

“Kida,” he returned. “I’m here to relieve you of duty tonight.”

“How kind,” I smiled, sliding off the couch and passing the senator. I nodded a final time at the jedi, turning to look back at Padme behind his back. I shook my head at her with amusement mouthing, “No occasion, my ass.”

She shook her head, but I could sense her own amusement too. Maybe she finally trusted me to keep her secret.

“Come on 3PO. I need to wire you into the emergency system before you shut down.”

C-3PO looked shocked...if a droid could make a facial expression. “I’m sure I’m still needed here-”

“It’s alright 3PO,” Padme interrupted him, waving her hand. “You can shut down for the night.”

“Very well, miss.”

I barely forced down a chuckle as I left the room with the droid. He jabbered to me, but I didn’t really listen, instead focusing on my job. I wired the droid into the security system I’d installed around the senator’s apartment, making it wake C-3PO should any alarms be triggered.

“Alright, you’re all set, buddy,” I interrupted the yammering droid, tapping him on his face plate. “Go ahead and power down.”

He bid me goodnight as I left the room, debating on whether I should go out the main entrance to cast a final remark at the ‘secret’ couple, but thought better of it. I shook my head at myself, practically hearing Jango scolding me for letting myself get attached, before leaving through a side entrance.

“I can’t believe that’s the name of your ship,” I pouted from my perch on the wide windowsill, a continuous storm raging outside.

“It’s just a name,” Jango grumbled while cleaning his blaster at the table. I gazed at him for a moment before rolling my eyes and looking back out at the storm. “Cuy ogir’olar.”

I pursed my lips. “It is not irrelevant,” I muttered to myself.

Despite not looking, I could feel Jango’s gaze turn to me. A spark of frustration rippled through the force towards me, but the bounty hunter schooled it down. “I don’t sell slaves,” he said calmly, still working on his blaster.

“No. Just clones, right?” I spit. He stood up abruptly, his blaster clattering as the table shifted violently. I jumped, my lips immediately closing in fright.

Jango’s anger faded as he saw my form curl into itself, a sigh escaping his mouth. “It certainly didn’t take you long to get an attitude,” he sighed, but betrayed himself with a small smile.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “I’ve always had one.”

“You must have been a shit slave then.”

“Why don’t you go ask your employers? I’m sure they’d be happy to tell you how they liked me.” I’d meant to spit the words, but my voice broke a little at the end.

Jango watched me for a moment before sighing again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He licked his lips before nodding, gesturing to me. “Come on.”

My eyebrow lifted. “Kicking me out?”

“Why? Do you want to leave?”

I was silent for a moment, hearing the slight sting in his words. I wasn’t sure why it seemed to wound him. Maybe I was just reading into it too much. Finally, I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“Well until you decide, let’s go.”

I stood obediently, but cast my eyes to the doorway to Boba’s bedroom. “What about-”

“He’ll be fine. He’s safe here. Come on.” Jango turned to me in the doorway, clad only in his casuals. “I have something to show you.”

I breathed slowly before following him from the apartment. He led me down the dizzying corridors, only some of which I had become familiarized with. The Kaminoans weren’t very fond of my presence, so Jango often kept me near or in his apartment. I’d only seen his clones once since my initial viewing on my arrival. And that was when I’d followed a sprinting Boba through the halls to greet Jango as he returned from a job.

Jango led me down through back hallways until we reached an area I hadn’t seen- a massive hangar filled with prototype and model fighters. I heard yelling coming from somewhere within it, my muscles tensing. Jango must have sensed my nerves.

“Relax. It’s a game.”

I didn’t respond, but my curiosity was peaked. I followed the bounty hunter until we ducked under the belly of a Y-Wing, revealing a mass of bodies. Jango stayed silent, looming on the outskirts to watch the game I didn’t understand. I peered through the crowd, trying to see through the legs of the physically adept clones.

Jango chuckled above me, making me look up with a lifted eyebrow. His hazel eyes met mine, surprisingly light and glittering with amusement. He shook his head before turning and climbing up the Y-Wing to sit on top. I watched him go, still not sure why he was laughing. His hand appeared over the side, gesturing for me to take it.

I hesitated a moment before placing my hand in his, feeling the calluses from fighting as he pulled me up beside him. He chuckled again, earning a curious look from me.

“You’re a lot like Boba,” he admitted through an amused huff of laughter. I was confused, but flattered. He loved his son more than anything. If I reminded Jango of the sweet little six year old...maybe he could care for me too.

I shook off the sentiment, turning my gaze back to the game the clones were playing. My eyes widened as I watched them throw a ball, tackling each other ruthlessly as the others jeered at them. “It doesn’t look very fun,” I admitted after watching multiple plays and even more men hit the ground hard.

Jango laughed openly now, some of the clones noticing him, but merely giving respectful nods. Maybe he dropped by more often than I thought. “You’d be surprised,” he chuckled. “It’s called get’shuk. Those goals,” he pointed to a set of poles on either side of the playfield. “Are how they score points. They have to get the ball down to them.”

“How could they?” I asked incredulously. “They’re practically killing each other.”

He laughed again. “These boys can handle a lot. They’re Mandalorian after all.”

I hummed, watching the game play. It didn’t take long for me to enjoy it, laughing as Jango cheered with his clones. Maybe he was selling them...maybe they were like slaves. But he treated them like humans. Like men. And while that didn’t excuse it...maybe it helped a little?

I couldn’t tell. Couldn’t wrap my mind around it. So I pushed it away.

In all the merriment, I could feel eyes on me, my gaze casting over the sea of young Jangos. Finally, my sight fell on some younger clones, looking to be in their very early teens. There were a couple of them grouped together, laughing and teasing as they watched the game play out. As I watched, wishing I could join in a longing to have people my own age, one looked up. His eyes were a striking golden color, his hair cropped short and blond. His face was hard despite his age, but a childish curiosity still remained.

It was only a moment, because he quickly looked away and returned to his friends. But it stuck with me...his eyes burning in my memory.

I sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep...and memories...from my eyes, hoping to force them back to the deep corners of my mind. It had been a while since I dreamt about Jango, though it had been happening more often since I’d taken the job for the senator. I’d never been around clones and jedi as much as I had in my time employed by Padme since Jango died. The war couldn’t find us in the lower levels...not really.

“Trouble sleeping, miss?” Apex spoke over my apartment speakers.

“I’m fine,” I responded, swinging my legs to the side of my bed to touch the cold metal floor. I sighed to myself, rubbing my hand over my short hair before rising. Moving to the kitchen, I pulled out some water and drank it down while I let my mind travel. The eyes from my memory were still floating in my vision, bright and intense. My mind reeled. Could it be possible? The age seemed about right. But wouldn’t he have made that connection?

I shook my head, pushing my forehead into my palm before making a decision. “Apex,” I called, the small beep in return letting me know he was listening. “Is Rex still in the infirmary?”

“Yes, miss. But the captain was moved from the senate building to the clone barracks infirmary.”

I winced at my own slip up of leaving out Rex’s title--something Apex hadn’t let slide. “Thanks,” I called, going back to my room to get dressed. I donned simply clothing--more along the lines of something I’d wear to favor discretion while wandering the underworld of Coruscant, rather than tactical gear.

“Need I remind you,” Apex sounded as I donned a long hooded jacket that brushed at my calves. “That it’s the middle of the night and you don’t have clearance for the barracks?”

I grinned, strapping my pistol and knife to my belt. “I’ll improvise.”

“Do be careful,” he called as I left the apartment, knowing full well he could keep communicating with me through my wrist comm. Still, he kept silent as I found my way to my garage, choosing my sleek black fighter.

Despite being the middle of the night, Coruscant was bustling, the traffic as busy as ever. I navigated my speeder easily, rising from where my apartment was situated a few levels down to the surface. The surface was always easier to navigate than the lower levels. It was one of the reasons I enjoyed working for the Senator of Naboo.

The clone barracks came into view quickly, my speeder dipping at my command to approach the landing pad. As I hovered above the platform, I watched clones donned in red approach, guns raised. I landed, letting my cockpit open as my engines cooled.

“Hold!” A clone called, his voice modulated through his helmet. “You don’t have access to this sector.”

“Easy,” I said back, raising my hands as I stood atop my speeder. “I’m a friend.” I drew back my good, giving them all a smirk.

“Stand down,” another voice called, my eyes lifting to see the approaching figure of Commander Fox. “I know this one.”

“Nice to see you again,” I said with a smirk, hands on my hips.

He grunted in response as his soldiers lowered their weapons. “Why are you here, bounty hunter?”

I scowled at how he sneered, but chose not to spit back at him. “I’m here to visit Captain Rex of the 501st. He was injured today. Yesterday? What time is it?”

“You’re not cleared for visitation,” Fox growled, his hand still on his pistol.

“Listen, I know you don’t like me. I’m not a particular fan of you either. But we’re not enemies.”

“You break the law.”

“Only the little ones.”

We stared at each other for a few moments, his fingers tapping against his pistol. I knew he wouldn’t let me in. I debated fighting them, but was it really worth possibly losing my job with the senator?

“Fine,” he said, surprising me. “My men will escort you to the med bay where you can see him. And then you leave.”

“Aye aye,” I responded, smirking as I hopped off my speeder and followed the group across the landing platform and into the barracks.

Fox stopped me with a hand to my shoulder. “Weapons,” he demanded, his hand held out expectantly, the other still on his pistol.

I rolled my eyes, but offered up my belt nonetheless. “Those are custom, so don’t damage them, alright?”

He didn’t respond, but I could feel the amusement of a few of his men. Okay...so maybe the Coruscant guard was some of the toughest clones, but they were still human. With a gesture of the commander’s hand, two of his men led me through the barracks towards the med bay.

I could hear the echoing voices of clones as we walked through the halls, some of the doors open to grant me a glance into their life in war. The mess hall was packed, despite the late hour, clones surrounding tables that sported various games of strength and strategy. Other rooms opened into the long barracks that granted beds for the various companies that were planetside on leave. Another was open to the showers, my eyes darting away quickly as I spotted naked butts and half dressed men. I wasn’t shy about nudity...but that was a lot of nudity.

I could feel the gazes turning my way--a woman--from each of the rooms. I heard some whispers. Some about how I’d worked with Rex and Skywalker. Some about Senator Amidala. But mostly about Jango.

I kept my eyes forward for the remainder of the walk.

The medbay doors slid open with a hiss, the two guards in red turning to stay at the door. I left them behind, my eyes casting over the few occupied beds. They all seemed to be sleeping, which made sense, considering the time of night. Still, I spotted the blond head of the captain, making my way to his cot, partially enclosed by the curtain.

I was silent in my approach, watching his still form rest. His monitors read off well, his arm pulled up in a sling and a bacta wrap encasing his wound. His face was peaceful, and for once, I didn’t see Jango. Instead I saw a square jaw with sharp cheekbones. Full lips and dark brows.

I shook myself, choosing to move closer and look at the clone. He looked alright. I wasn’t surprised. Jango hadn’t been lying all those years ago. They were strong. They were Mandalorian, after all.

I’d dragged a chair into Rex’s area, leaning heavily into it to sit by the captain’s side. I wasn’t sure why I felt like I should be there. Maybe I should have waited until morning to come talk to him. To see if he was okay. But something pushed me from my apartment...had chased me from my memories to his side.

Besides, if nothing else, I took some joy in making Fox wait for me to leave.

While I was unable to sleep, I let myself go into a daze, my mind wandering. It wasn’t until I felt a ripple of awareness in the force that I made myself aware again. My eyes lifted as Rex didn’t move, feigning sleep as he sensed someone near him. His fingers lifted slowly, my own lips drawing into a small smile.

“There’s no pistol for you to grab, Captain,” I said finally, my voice low. He froze, his eyes opening slowly as he tried to adjust to the fluorescent lighting of the medbay.

“Kida,” he said finally, shifting uncomfortably to sit up more. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting. You were hurt.” Wow...what a pathetic attempt at playing nonchalant.

He lifted a dark eyebrow at me before glancing around at the other sleeping patrons. “It’s the middle of the night.” I swallowed, but found myself unable to return with a sassy quip. That was new. The captain examined me for a minute before speaking. “Why are you really here? You’re certainly not here to see an injured clone.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I responded, watching him before glancing at all the other clones in medbay. I sighed. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

I didn’t have to answer for him to know he was right. It was silent between us for a moment before I mustered the courage to speak again. “I think I’ve seen you before,” I admitted.

“I-I’m not sure what you mean. I’ve been planetside multiple times since the start of the war-”

“No,” I interrupted him. “I mean before the war. When you were just a boy.”

Rex huffed laughter. “That wasn’t really that long ago, miss.”

“No...it wasn’t,” I responded sadly before shaking my head. “And don’t call me miss. It’s Kida.”

He nodded, his mind clearly searching his own memories. “When do you think you saw me?”

“Almost five years ago. On Kamino.” I saw his confusion, so I elaborated. “It was shortly after Jango saved me. I lived with him and Boba for a while before he set me up on my own.”

Rex cleared his throat. “We didn’t really see Boba often. Or Jango for that matter.” He paused as I nodded, looking away. “When do you think you saw me?”

I smiled slightly at the memory. “I’d only been with Jango for about a month,” I explained, standing slowly from my seat to pretend to look over Rex’s monitors. “I’d started a bit of a disagreement with him.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t one you won.”

I chuckled. “No, not really.”

“What was it about?”

He sensed my hesitation, but didn’t push, waiting patiently. “I…” I sighed. “I thought it was wrong of him to do the cloning project.”

Rex shrugged, wincing at the movement. “In the end, it killed him.”

“No, playing both sides killed him,” I disagreed, crossing my arms. “I thought it was morally wrong.” I could feel the sting he felt at my words. “Not that the clones themselves were wrong,” I continued, intentionally not saying ‘you.’ “But that he was selling them without a second thought.”

“We were made to serve the Republic.” His voice was stern. Practiced. Filled with honor.

“Exactly,” I whispered, looking down at the bed, brushing the starched sheets with my fingers. “And I was made to serve, too,” I admitted, pulling up my sleeve to show my brand. He’d seen it before, when I first accepted my job with the senator, but I had a feeling he’d not stared out of respect. Now, however, he looked at it, his face sorrowful. “I found fault in Jango that night,” I continued, sighing as I brushed my brand. “He’d granted me the choice to determine who or what I serve...something I’d never had before the moment he turned up at the Death Watch camp.” His eyebrows shot up at the name Death Watch, but didn’t interrupt me despite the curiosity that rippled off of him. “Yet, he was selling clones like product.”

Rex was quiet. “Is that how he felt?”

“No,” I answered immediately. “When I called him out, I expected him to be angry, but he was just sad. He was gentle. He took me to see the clones playing a game of get’shuk. We watched for hours. He let me see him interact with your brothers.”

I could feel Rex’s mind turning in thought, a spark of recognition spiking in the force, making my eyebrows lift curiously. “He was sitting on top of a Y-Wing model. It was gray and yellow. The cockpit window was cracked...so it was in the hangar to be fixed.” My eyes widened as he thought, not looking. Finally, he turned, meeting my gaze directly. “A little girl was sitting next to him.”

I smiled, feeling a genuine warmth spread through my chest. That was weird. I sat on the edge of the bed below where his hand rested. “I knew I’d seen you. You looked right at me.”

Rex didn’t smile back, his golden eyes sad as he regarded me. “You’ve grown.”

I couldn’t hold back my laugh. “I mean, you’re one to talk.”

“No,” he said, smiling only slightly before it faded. “If you hadn’t said something, I don’t know if I ever would have connected the dots. You look nothing like that little girl I saw that day.”

“I’m not that much older. Puberty changed a lot though,” I tried to joke, shrugging, but the captain stayed sober.

“Your hair was long, but didn’t look healthy like it does now. You were skin and bone. Not toned and healthy like you look today.”

“It’s called being fed and cared for. And learning how to defend yourself.”

Rex was silent for a moment while he thought. “We made eye contact that day. That’s what’s changed the most, I think. Your eyes.”

I lifted my eyebrow with curiosity, waiting patiently for him to continue.

He shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in his cot. “Well for one, they’re not as sunken or...sad. Now they’re brighter, but more determined. Sometimes even cold.”

“Wow. You really know how to woo a girl,” I teased, rolling my eyes.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Rex said, cutting me off.

“Which is?”

“Your eyes look a little like they did all those years ago, but only sometimes. It’s only when you look at me or my brothers and only for a moment before you hide it again.” He looked deeply into my eyes. “You look sad. Why is that?”

I went to shoot back a snarky response, but I fell flat, my mouth floundering stupidly.

“Is it because we look like him? We all share his face, after all.”

I blinked, unsure how to approach his sad tone. “Maybe,” I admitted. “Sometimes. But other times is knowing your lives. How you grew up and how fast it was. How any of you could die easily.”

“That’s the life of a soldier.”

I hummed, aware of his sobering voice. “Not unlike the life of a bounty hunter, I suppose. Jango never thought he wouldn’t come home after that day.”

“I remember that day well. It was our first day actually fighting a battle for a reason. No more simulations or games. Men...my brothers...actually died that day.”

My eyes scanned up his body, grazing over the planes of his face that crinkled at his memories. “Were you in the arena?” He shook his head as I sighed, looking around at the med bay. “I was. I got to see your brothers working together for the first time. They were fantastic. Perfectly in synch.”

I turned to look back at the clone captain, finding his golden eyes staring into my soul. “We mourned Jango too, you know.”

A small smile graced my lips, despite knowing that they couldn’t have felt the pain I felt. Or how Boba felt. I was about to respond, when the hiss of the door sounded, followed by a call.

“I heard rumor we had a visitor!” Despite the clones sharing faces, I could recognize this one’s voice by the chip in his tone.

I turned, following Rex’s gaze to the open doorway. My escorts still stood watch, but between them stood a clone in his blacks, his face tattooed with the sigil of the Grand Republic. “Jesse,” I smiled. “I didn’t come visit for you.”

“Right,” he quipped, strutting closer. “You came to visit our brave captain.” He was teasing, casting a wink at Rex before setting his glittering gaze back on me. “But I’m sure some part of you wanted to come and see me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “For sure. Who could hold up against that charm?” Surprisingly, Rex joined me in my laughter.

“So?” Jesse pressed with wiggling eyebrows. “Some of the boys and I are drinking...caf...in our barracks. Care to join in?”

My lips pursed. “I’m flattered but I don’t think--”

“I think that could be fun,” Rex said, surprising us both. “You could finally meet the company.”

“And I’m sure the 501st would love to meet the girl who saved our dear captain,” Jesse added.

“And knew Jango personally. Especially with those Jaig eyes.” I eyed Rex as he spoke, finally sighing.

“Fine.”

“Wonderful,” Jesse said with a clap of his hands. Rex moved to sit up, but a doctor droid came streaking out of wherever it was hiding to reprimand him. I couldn’t help but chuckle as he argued with it, finally consenting to some tests before given medical release.

“Just go on,” the captain sighed lowly, trying to appear composed in his frustration. “I’ll catch up.”

I smiled, going to give a gentle tease when Jesse’s arm wrapped around my waist and quickly guided me from the room. “No problem, Captain.” We exited the room, the door wooshing shut behind us, only to be met with my red-clad escorts. “I’ve got her boys.”

“Fox clearly said-” one started, but was cut off by my rash companion.

“I know, I know,” he said with a wave of his hand. I quirked my eyebrow, since he knew nothing--a fact both I and the clones before us were aware of. “But Captain Rex wanted me to show her the 501st. Listen,” he lifted his hands as if he was admitted defeat. “I’ll take full responsibility of her, alright? Anything goes wrong because of her? It’s on me.”

The two clones glanced at each other, before casting me a glance. I gave them a cheesy grin in return. “Fine,” one of them said, pretending to care as they walked away. Jesse wrapped his arm around me again, practically dragging me through the halls of peering clones.

“You should stop holding my waist,” I advised as we walked, wary of the many eyes and what our positions could imply.

“I’m just guiding-”

“I’ll break your arm as easily as I broke your nose.”

His hand moved away immediately, the clone choosing to gesture with both his hands as we approached a closed barrack door. I smirked at his immediate reaction. Wise man.

“Why’s this door closed?” I asked, naturally a suspicious person. “All the others were open.”

“Sure,” he laughed, pressing the panel to open the door. “But I lied when I said we were drinking caf.” The door stopped moving with a final hiss, a mass of gazes lifting to see me beside their brother. Those that wore armor sported the same blue that I had come to recognize on Rex’s armor. In their hands were cups, half empty bottle of amber liquid cluttering the counters.

After a long moment of staring at each other, one clone stood, his perfectly sculpted hair and the red cross on his shoulder letting me identify him. He grinned widely, his eyes bright and a little distant from the booze. “Hey Kida!”

TRANSLATIONS:

Cuy ogir’olar - It’s irrelevant/ it doesn’t matter

Get’shuk - a game similar to rugby

[scottyunfamous]

#RunningWilde Ch. 35 | Fallen from Grace

Remove her, send the cheetahs to the tomb

Our war is over, our queen has met her doom

No more she lives no more serpent in her room

No more he has killed Cleopatra

-Pyramids

Frank Ocean

*

What should she have done; said yes and risked Aiden's wrath or denied it and seized her first real opportunity of freedom? Because this thing -this all-consuming, dark, glittering vice that enveloped their indomitable attraction wasn't right, no matter how right it felt... Yes, Aiden was unfairly handsome, attentive, thoughtful, loyal, protective, downright irresistible...but he was also a murderer; cruel and dangerously impulsive with an army of murderers and narcotic dealers who would fulfil his every whim. With she who would fulfil his every whim (hard limits not included). He was the anomaly that perplexed and predicated her. A monster crafted by the harsh hands of the city's ghetto and a poor excuse of a woman who was no more his mother than an addict who had an accident. What was she meant to do?

Aiden stepped in front of her once more, shielding her from his mother's beady eyed gaze. "Her name is Heaven Michaels. She is my wife and I forbid you from speaking to her."

"Your wife," Grace guffawed, "As if any woman in her right mind would marry a twisted little fuck like you!"

Aiden's nostrils flared and his colour deepened.

"The only bitch dumb enough to want that title is dead –good riddance." She spat on the ground. "This is the Lockewood girl. I know it." She swiped the back of her arm across her chapped lips where remains of her spit lingered.

Heaven tried her best not to scrunch her nose up at her only way out.

"Poor thing; I don't even want to think about what my son has been putting you through, but don't you worry, we're gonna help each other out, you and me." She peered around Aiden and flashed Heaven a nefarious smile the same colour as her stained walls, "Looks like I don't need your money, A. Once the police get wind of this they'll be offering me a fuck-load of it on a silver platter. No doubt you will too, ain't that right sweetheart? Gratitude and all that shit. I bet you can't wait to get home and be back with your friends and family again. Won't that be nice; to be free of this cunt?"

Aiden gripped Heaven's hand tightly, "You're high," he tried unconvincingly, wanting to convince his mother that it was the drugs skewering her perception. He knew he'd have to deal with Heaven being recognised eventually, but he'd anticipated it being by someone easily disposable, not his mother. He couldn't dispose of her...could he?

No!

It was out of the question, and even entertaining such a thought only made Grace's words ring truer -twisted little fuck.

"High doesn't mean stupid, Aiden. I know it's her. It's hard to forget such a pretty face –I expect that's why the media are still so obsessed with you, girl, because you look the way you do. So pretty..." she reached out to graze her haggard fingers against her new meal ticket.

Aiden knocked her hand away, glaring at her like she was mad to even think she could touch Heaven. His jaw clenched and his chest rose and fell making the still wet droplets of Titan's blood gleam under the naked lightbulb that hung from a wire in the middle of the kitchen ceiling. He'd bought her a shade because she complained the light had been too bright for her bloodshot eyes, but it wasn't there anymore. No doubt she'd sold it.

It's unquestionable. I could never. She's my mother...

"What do you want, Grace?"

Grace rose up and wobbled on her tip toes, futilely trying to be at eye level with her son's towering frame. "I want to see you rot in a jail cell for the rest of your life, you little shit. The money is just a bonus. I've got a new piggy bank. You can't control me anymore," she cackled.

"I'll double your allowance."

"Pfftt!"

"Triple it. Just keep your mouth shut."

"Hmm," Grace straightened up, "And the funeral?"

"No."

"Well then I can't help you."

Aiden's hand slammed against the flaky door jamb close to his mother's head, making her jump back as tinted paint flakes crumble to the sticky linoleum floor. "You can't do that. There are people after her. Bad people. If they find her, she'll die."

"Is that what he told you?" She looked past him and at Heaven, "Is that how he's kept you foolishly at his side, because he's trying to save you? Listen girl, if anyone will be the death of you, it's him. Ask the white girl...oops, sorry, you can't," she smiled sardonically at Aiden with more pleasure than a soul should possess for such a ugly subject, "She dead." She barged past him and staggered in the dank dimness of her living room.

"Grace," Aiden growled, his tone inflected with warning. She was really toeing the line right now.

"I have nothing else to say to you." She picked up her handset, yet another tar stained object -a retro fashioned (formerly) baby pink rotary dialer. She stuck her gnawed finger in the hole with a 9 inside of it and dragged it around thrice.

"Didn't you hear what I said? They will kill her."

His mother turned her back on him and waited for the calm enunciated voice of the lady working at the emergency services switchboard to monotonously drone, "999, what's your emergency?"

"Yes, hi. I'd like to speak to the police please."

His heart turned to stone...

"Okay ma'am. May I ask what it's regarding?"

"I've found the Lockewood girl."

...And sunk with the quickness of an anchor with a broken chain, falling aimlessly into the boundless darkness below.

"Okay ma'am. I'm putting you thr..."

A hulking roar masked the end of the operator's sentence and a terrible tearing and popping sound played percussion beneath it. The line went dead.

"Hello?" When Grace looked back at her son she saw his eyes void and the severed phone cord sparking and hanging from his prominently vein encased fist, looking like wrought iron placed underneath his skin to hold that terrible, terrible thing inside of him in.

"What the fuck are you doing, you little shit?"

Wordlessly, Aiden allowed for her chosen terms of endearment to roll off his back and glided into the hallway with savage elegance. He was too calm on the surface –it contrasted with the hell that had risen inside of him, all thick black smoke, and fire, and brimstone and claws rattling his rib cage.

She'd attempted to take his life and now she was risking Heaven's.

The unquestionable became questionable.

He hooked his arm through Heaven's and dragged her half walking, half stumbling behind him to the front door. "Dougie?" he rumbled.

Dougie raised his eyebrow.

"Take Heaven down to the car and wait for me. Tell Driver to turn the engine on. The rest of you," he looked at his men, each of them as still as the gargoyles on the Notre Dame with worry etched into their features. Calm Aiden wasn't a good thing, not when he was this calm; his voice levelled and lulling like the ocean gently lapping against a rocky cliff, his eyes beholding the macabre soul of the underworld... "You can go."

"Until when, boss?" one of them spoke up.

Aiden narrowed his eyes at the one who dared to speak. "Go. Now."

They scattered like cockroaches.

Dougie didn't move.

"What's going on, A?"

"We're done here. Do as I say. Go."

"Aiden," he came closer and lowered his voice, "I know that look. I invented that look... Think about what you're about to do."

Aiden blinked at his best friend like he hadn't heard a word he'd said, "Why are you still here? The feds will be here soon. Stop wasting my time." He pushed Heaven out and closed the door in their faces.

"Shit," Dougie muttered. He rounded on her, "What happened in there?" he snarled.

Heaven flinched, "T-they w-were fighting."

"They always fight. What else?"

"S-s-she called the p-police," she squeaked, trembling under his unnerving stare. "She was going to t-tell them that she f-found me."

Dougie's blood ran cold and he glared at her, "Of course. You." He grabbed her arm and tugged her down the empty cement block stairwell, "It's always you. If he'd just killed you like he was supposed to, we could have avoided all this extra shit, but no_"

Finding her voice, she tugged her arm away, "Stop acting like I asked for this. I was happy. I didn't want any of it."

"Didn't you?" You could have stopped this a long time ago if you'd had the common sense not to get involved with him."

"Then I'd be dead!"

He gritted his teeth and growled, "You were dead the day he met you. It's only a matter of time now."

*

They sat in the truck in silence; Heaven milling over her Dougie's words whilst Dougie peered up at the third floor every so often, both anticipating, and dreading, the moment Aiden appeared over the tarnished red barrier of the public balcony of the flat. Aiden was going to hate himself after this. Maybe not right away, but when the magnitude of what would be his deadliest sin finally caught up to him, not even his rationality would let his soul rest. He took a break from staring at the blocks and peered at Heaven in the rear-view mirror. This infuriating young innocent would be Aiden's end...and possibly the only thing capable of pulling him back once he got too close to the edge. He was pretty damn close already. If it hadn't been for that fact Dougie would have did what he does best a long time ago.

Aiden appeared at the foot of the stairs, his body glimpsed and concealed between the grease and dirt clouded glass of the security door, with the same unreadable expression on his face. Too composed, too calm. For a moment Dougie wondered if he'd actually gone through with it, but when he got in the car and closed his eyes, speaking only on syllable to order Driver to "Drive", Dougie feared the worst had come to pass.

Driver pulled out of Myatts Field Estate car park.

He had to know; "Do the maids need to do a double clean up?"

"No. I took care of it."

God dammit Aiden!

"Better safe than sorry," he replied gravely, the burden that would surely rest on Aiden's shoulders starting to weigh down on his own. He should have stopped him. Why the fuck didn't he stop him? Fuck!

"The police will be here soon. There's not enough time. I took care of it."

"A, you can't just leave her there..." he lowered his voice, "She's your mum."

Aiden curled his fist u tightly in his lap and opened his eyes to glare back at his friend in the rear-view, "Stop. Talking."

Heaven shifted closer to her side of the car.

Yeah, so...that happened. On a scale of '0-what the actual fuck bruh?!?' how out of control do you think Aiden is right now? Should Dougie have stopped him or do you think Grace had it coming?

Please click the heart and leave your comments below.

Love Scotty x

[hiddendreamer67]

Ch. 5 Two-Faced (G/t JSE fanfic)

prompt: alter-ego

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8

“No!” Sean yelled, pounding at the glass, watching helplessly as Jack and Mark discussed his fate. “Don’t leave me, I’m up here!” It was no use. They could not hear the tiny borrower’s voice through the glass jar up on the top shelf, and Sean stared on in horror as Jack pressed the button, taking Sean’s one chance of escape with him. Sean groaned as Dr. Iplier entered the room a second later.

“Glad to see me, I see.” Dr. Iplier joked in reference to Sean’s groan. He took the jar down from the shelf, plucking Sean up by the back of his shirt. Sean tried to struggle, twisting this way and that. The doctor simply ignored his attempts at escape, dropping him into what seemed to be a large metal box. There was nowhere to run.

“Now, please do your best to behave.” Dr. Iplier instructed. He held up an eyedropper full of green liquid, the same as from the septic tank with the giant eyeball. “Just a few drops of this should-” Dr. Iplier’s hand slipped as a warning siren began to go off, red lights flashing up above. The screeching was deafening, causing Sean to cover his ears as a large amount of the liquid poured on him.

“Containment Breach in sector 7.” A robotic voice over the intercom spoke as Sean began to feel all tingly. Dr. Iplier cursed.

“Wait here.” Dr. Iplier rushed back out of the room. What was in sector 7 that made the doctor so nervous? Sean really didn’t give a rat’s arse, so long as it provided him with a chance to escape. Sean looked around, noticing that the wall of the metal box was just within his reach. Jumping up, Sean grabbed the edge and pulled himself over, dropping carefully to the ground.

“Now what?” Sean asked, standing up and looking around. Without Jack or Dr. Iplier’s bracelets, Sean was going to stay a long way from home. He could wait around hoping for Jack to return, but Sean wasn’t exactly eager to ask a human for help- even if said human had been a borrower for about five minutes.

The flashing lights and emergency sirens weren’t helping Sean concentrate, either. He glared up at the ceiling before beginning to sneak along the wall next to many technical looking gadgets.

...hang on, wasn’t that metal box taller than him a second ago?

Sean looked back at the box where he was once contained, surprised that he had to look down at it. Now the box was waist-high. Looking around the room, everything seemed to look a little smaller.

“What the fock?” Sean breathed out, stumbling into a shelf of inventions and knocking them to the ground in his new clumsy state. “Ah, shite.” Sean began to try and gather up the gadgets, worried that someone heard the clattering, but hopefully the sirens drowned out the sounds of his bumbling. Tripping over his growing feet, Sean fell face forward into a hexagonal doorway-looking thing, nose pressing harshly into a red glowing button.

“Ow.” Sean rubbed at his nose, watching the walls of the thing surrounding him glow.

“Beginning Melding process in five…” A new voice sounded out, a glass panel trapping Sean in. His head began to press against the ceiling as he continued to grow in this cramped space.

“Wha…?” Sean tried to process what was happening.

“Four...three…” Sean began to pound on the glass, trying to break out. Spiderweb cracks began to develop, spreading out across the panel.

“Two...one.” A blinding light shot out from every angle, and Sean screamed as his skin began to burn. He tried to drop the gadgets in his hands in favor of covering his injuries, but the metal seemed fused to his skin. It began to dissolve, spreading out to meld with Sean’s very being. At least the growing seemed to have stalled.

Sean’s screams began to sound more computerized, more corrupted. He felt the wiring in his limbs and the computer chips in his brain. He felt different. He felt powerful.

He smashed through the glass, sparks spraying behind him. The emergency sirens had stopped, and now the place was lit with only the dim glow of the red lights. He stepped out into the open, now the full height of a human. He heard footsteps pounding in the hall.

Dr. Iplier dashed into the room, only to freeze at the sight of him.

“S-sean?” For once, the doctor sounded nervous. The old borrower grinned.

“I’m not Sean anymore.” He said, and it was true. The melding had changed his very DNA. “You can call me...Anti.” The doctor looked around the dimly lit room, processing everything.

“You used the melder?” Dr. Iplier pointed to the shattered remains of the machine. “What...exactly...did you meld with?”

“Dunno, just a few of your neato trinkets.” Anti felt a strange twitch in his muscles, like an electric shock. It was invigorating.

“Which ones?” Dr. Iplier sounded desperate. “Sean, you gotta understand, that technology is new. Any device you fused with will begin to operate under your control.”

“I said, I’m not SEAN!” Anti shouted, suddenly suppressed with a painful tugging feeling in his right arm. A moment later, his hand was holding a knife that seemed to be an extension of his being.

“That would be the transfuser.” Dr. Iplier groaned, looking at the knife in Anti’s hand. “Please, Anti, let me try and separate your DNA.”

“What, and give up powers like this?” Anti laughed, pointing at a wrench on the table. A bright light emitted from his fingers, and the wrench shrunk. “Become your perfect little lab rat again?” Anti admired the tiny wrench for a moment, then spit on it and watched as it melted into a black goop. Anti clapped his hands in childlike glee.

“I’ll return you to your home world.” Dr. Iplier offered. “I’ll take out the growth serum too, and you can live out your borrower life free of my influence-”

“You don’t get it!” Anti roared, taking a step towards the doctor. “I don’t want to go back! Being a borrower was a terrible fate. I was a piece of scum struggling to survive off another man’s trash. But now-” Anti let out a crazed-sounding laugh. “-now, I’m more powerful than any of you. You can’t stop me.”

“Anti, listen.” Dr. Iplier took nervous steps back as Anti advanced. “You can’t go on as a melded mess of artificial intelligence and an altered carbon-based lifeform. Soon the coding will corrupt your mind, leaving you nothing more than a shell of your human self.”

“I’m done hearing your scientific jargon.” Anti cut him off, taking the blade in his hand and chopping off Dr. Iplier’s hand. The man screamed, but his screams only made Anti’s circuits surge in pleasure. With reckless abandon he tore into the man, watching the blood pool across the floor as the life slowly faded from the doctor’s eyes.

Picking up the severed hand, Anti slid the dimension bracelet into his open palm. He crushed the device in his hand, feeling the energy merge with his own being. Opening his hand nothing was left, but Anti could feel the bracelet within him. Anti grinned maliciously, looking down at the dead body in front of him.

“You’re next, Mark.” Anti said, focusing his thoughts on traveling between dimensions. There was a flash of bright light, and Anti was gone.