#At some point I questioned how the fuck his wing anatomy worked but just shook it off as cartoon logic

[vioyume]

Rendering practice. Cooler shades just happens to be easier for me to work with, that and I figured out how to do it in black and white first then play with layer filters.

This really allowed me to focus on shades rather than color, so getting in those extra details that I would've missed is refreshing.

Leif was also a good subject since I was already in the mood to draw bugs, he has a nice mixture of textures.

Progress GIF's undercut.

[jasonspetertodds]

character study #3: snow

warnings: hypothermia, death mention, swearing

Jason felt the giddy grin he almost always got while on patrol, tugging on his face as his chest tightened with excitement as he grappled to the warehouse roof. He could feel his body relax while he was soaring through the air, cold wind rushing against his face as he flew. He never got tired of it and he didn’t think he ever would. It served as a nice distraction against the chilly December air.

It was his first patrol alone, at least in a while, as Robin. And underneath the thrill of being Robin, Jason could feel the distinct, overwhelming, almost suffocating sense of dread. It wasn’t like he couldn’t handle himself, he had proven himself time and time again, it was just that the cold never harbored particularly good memories for him. Maybe it was because he could taste the impending snow on the air the second he had gotten into the city, maybe it was past trauma. It was probably both.

He landed on the roof, instinctively shifting his weight forward as he snapped his grapple back in place on his utility belt. He skirted around the perimeter, trying to find a good way to get in without giving his position away. There were three large skylights centered in the middle of the roof, but Jason was a little wary to dive head first into a scenario where he didn’t know what was waiting for him on the other side.

He shivered, tugging his cape around him in an effort to keep some warmth in as he edged closer one of the skylights, seeing if he could discern what was going on below him. He had tracked one of Mr. Freeze’s goons to the warehouse, but he wasn’t going to go in swinging when he didn’t know the stakes. Instead, he opted to stay back and observe for a bit, even if it was getting colder. Jason wasn’t aware that Mr. Freeze was operating out of Gotham again and he was willing to bet that neither did Bruce. He didn’t want to call for backup unless he absolutely needed it.

He crouched down, closer to ground to hopefully gain a better vantage point, but also to shield himself from the wind that occasionally would pick up every now and then. Jason could feel his nose turning bright red as he gazed down into the belly of the warehouse, watching the men below him move copious amounts of crates. He frowned, bringing the fabric of his cape up to his nose as he huddled a closer under it.

He sat still and watched for about an hour before he rocked back on his heels, contemplating if he should wait and tell Bruce about what he had found and come back a different night or if he should just jump down and let the whole thing be over with. He scrunched but his nose, feeling the resistance against his domino. He really didn’t want to spend another night out in the cold observing them. That would drag up memories that Jason didn’t really want to contend with and it brought up the issue that Freeze would have more time to do harm. He stood up, once more circling the skylights, getting different angles as he checked the anatomy of the inside of the warehouse and counted the men inside, just so he wouldn’t have any surprises.

He barely registered the soft scuffing of someone landing on the roof, behind him. He turned to look at Nightwing, eyes narrowing in suspicion under the white lenses of his mask before he titled his head to the side. A silent question. While he and Dick’s relationship had gotten significantly better over the course of the last year, Jason was still a little weary of the older boy. For more than one reason, too.

Nightwing grinned, wide enough that his dimples were showing as he strolled over to where Jason was standing, “Hey, Little Wing.”

Jason’s heart gave little flutter at the affectionate nickname, viciously trying to squash the warm sensation down in his chest upon hearing the term. He narrowed his eyes even more. His brother wasn’t phased by this, instead continuing on as if he couldn’t sense Jason’s suspicion rolling off of him in waves, “Patrol has been pretty boring so I wanted to see if you were doing anything interesting.”

“And,” He said, smiling, never faltering as he looked through the skylights, “It looks like you have!”

Jason rolled his eyes behind his mask, turning his attention away from his mildly annoying older brother, noting that every man had an ankle strap. No matter how tailored the suit was, Jason could always see the slight bulge of the butt of the gun disrupting the fabric. It was something he had picked up on the street. It was a nice way to be able to see who was an undercover cop. He said as much to Nightwing, who took that as a nonofficial invitation into the mission. He nodded, though Jason could see his eyebrows come together by the movement of his mask. Wisely, the older boy decided not to comment on how Jason knew that particular detail.

“How many?”

“Twelve,” Jason supplied, going to stand next to Nightwing. He wasn’t really annoyed with the help, though while he hadn’t asked for it, it was still nice to have. Bruce tried his best to drill it into Jason that anyone in the family would be glad to help him with anything he needed, no matter how small. He was always weary of the offer, especially in the first few months at the manor. He was starting, if only a little bit, to believe them.

“You know what’s in the crates?”

Jason shook his head, responding, “No idea. None of them have been open enough for me to see what was inside.”

Nightwing nodded solemnly next to him, hand stroking his cheek as he thought. Jason rocked on his tiptoes for a second, trying to keep himself from shivering. He really wanted to get this moving. If he focused too much on the cold seeping into his skin, he could see flashes of some of the people he had known on the street dozing off when it was snowing and then never waking up behind his eyes. Memories of curling up in a less cold bolt hole and hoping he would make it through the night as his teeth would chatter and he would shiver violently.

He shook his head free of those thoughts as he looked expectantly at his older brother, he titled his head to the side and let a cheeky smile crawl onto his face, “What do you say, N? Think we can take them?”

The older boy’s smile brightened as he made a move to the opposite side of Jason before he replied, “Oh, absolutely. On three?”

He nodded, placing his boot on the glass as the other vigilante counted down, “One...”

Jason crouched down, flipping his cape behind him, feeling the adrenaline already start to pump through his veins as he eagerly looked down into the glass, making sure no one had spotted them yet.

“Two...”

Jason tensed all his muscles at the same time, waiting.

“Three!”

With a crash, they were rapidly descending into the room with a sea of shattered glass raining down around them. Jason came up out of his roll swinging, hitting the first goon square in the jaw. He heard the older vigilante take down two others, the crack of his escrima sticks against their bones rattling around his skull. Jason jumped, kicking another square in the chest before he could reach down and grab his gun. They had the small advantage of surprise when they first dropped down, but it was going to be harder now that the henchmen were recovering from their shock. Jason backed up, assessing the four pairs still in front of him.

He could see Nightwing out of the corner of his eye, backing up to cover his back too as he broke at least five more bones between two more lackeys. Jason, for a brief moment, found himself a little jealous of his brother. Dick Grayson wasn’t a particularly tall or large man, but he was significantly taller and stronger than Jason. The younger boy would kill for that advantage. That was okay, though, he reminded himself. Jason had other strengths. Jason was smart.

Jason rushed, sliding under one of their legs and tugging loose his gun, effectively putting one man between two others while he discharged the magazine, throwing the cartridge to one side, behind the crates. He then swung again, breaking another jaw as the man fell to the floor. Jason made quick work of breaking both of his arms before moving to his next victim.

“How we doing, Robin?”

Jason didn’t even bat an eye as he took down another two, before he felt something in the air shift. He hadn’t even had time to respond. His eyes snapped up to his brother’s, seeing the older boy’s expression harden as Mr. Freeze entered the picture. He was up on the highest catwalk, looking down at the chaos below, the most unamused expression on his face.  Jason sneered. He wasn’t too impressed by the villain, either. All the henchmen were down, either unconscious or in too much pain to fight back. It was just them and Freeze.

“Bats.” He sneered, hand going to the lift up his freeze ray. Freeze gun? Jason thought. He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He saw a flash of blue and black in his peripheral and he made a move to follow Nightwing up the rafters, yellow cape trailing behind him as he flipped and jumped up to the catwalk where Freeze was standing. They both flipped over the railing at the same time, feet landing on the cool iron in synchronized dull thunks. Jason titled his head to the side, observing Freeze, he could feel a stray back curl flop over his forehead. He knew better than to think that they had him cornered.

Jason thought it might be the wise decision to wait for his older brother to make the first move. He did not want to get hit with that stupid fucking gun.

“Freeze.” Nightwing greeted cordially.

Jason shivered behind the villain, suddenly struck with the cool downdraft from the ceiling and the cold that was being emitted from Freeze’s cryo-suit. Cryocrypt, Jason thought. He resisted every urge to once again wrap his cape around him for warmth and hindering his reaction time. He felt the other vigilante’s gaze on him and it took everything Jason had to stand resolute, completely stone faced. He was not going to let his older brother know how much he hated the cold and the snow. Instead, he took notice of the fact that Mr. Freeze’s suit had a soft backing to them at the bend of the knee, probably to allow for better movement. It was a weakness that probably ought to be exploited, especially since it seemed no one had brought it to his attention yet.

Jason sneered, knowing it would be difficult to land a hit there. Nightwing certainly couldn’t with the large pressurized cylinder on his back and the heavy tubing that wrapped around the villain’s back and legs. He took a second to realize how strong Victor Fries must actually be in order to lug all of that equipment around on him. Jason knew he didn’t exactly have a choice, because without it he would die, but the boy was a little in awe at the fact that Freeze could stand the weight of his armored suit and still sprint if he needed to. The younger boy shook his head, freeing his head of the thoughts. What was important was Jason could land a hit there and at the very least bring him to his knees.

Interesting.

“Shall we skip the niceties, I’m growing very bored of this conversation,” Freeze drawled in a heavy eastern European accent, twirling his gun carelessly in his hand. Nightwing smiled a calculated, casual smile, before replying easily, “That works for me.”

Wing jumped the second he had finished his sentence, but Freeze had anticipated it, knocking the bird away. He recovered rather gracefully, perching himself on the wrought iron railing of the walkway before trying again. In the meantime, Jason had taken that as his queue. He rotated once in the air, cape flying out behind him as he landed a solid blow on Freeze’s chest. Jason pushed away the fact that he could feel the coolness seeping out of the man’s suit through his steel toed boot. Dick followed suit, attacking again and hitting him in the ribs as Jason rotated around him, covering for his brother.

They worked in tandem, making sure to keep the man before them occupied enough so he didn’t have the time, nor the room to effectively utilize his gun while giving the other a break. It wasn’t until Jason was behind Freeze again, sweating and fatigued, did he decide it was time to finally end the fight. Nightwing, whether consciously or not, circled around the blue skinned man, positioning him just so in front of the catwalk. Jason took his opportunity.

With a startled cry, he watched as the rogue crumpled, arms grasping at the railing before Jason kicked him again, this time on the lower back. He was knocked off balance as the boy watched him slip between the bars, plummeting to the concrete floor of the warehouse. Jason didn’t even have to think as he shot his grapple line out, catching it around his ankles and securing Freeze to the railing. When he turned, he faltered. Nightwing was beaming up at him, dimples and all, as his voice rang proudly in Jason’s ears, “Little Wing!”

The older boy stepped forward, gently pushing Jason’s head to the side in a way of brotherly affection before declaring, “When did you get so good?”

He stood still for a second, enjoying how Wing had said it in such an unplanned manner that gave away that his brother was in fact all genuine pride. Jason gave a small smirk in return, content to wait for a second longer while the other vigilante called Gotham’s finest to come clean up.

Jason was just about to duck out of the skylight from when he came, Nightwing a flash of black and blue next to him, when he felt the coldest prick bury itself in his stomach. It was like ice pooling in his abdomen as he fell, skin raised with goosebumps and completely numb as he watched Nightwing’s face morph from complete victory to something very close to panic as the older boy dove back down into the belly of the warehouse to retrieve Robin.

Fuck.

Jason really fucking hated that fucking freeze ray. And he hated that he was stupid enough to let it hit him. Dick’s hand immediately wrapped around his wrist, heaving him up as he quickly fired his grapple. Jason was shivering violently, fighting back tears in his eyes as he grit his teeth. He was so cold that it burned. He vaguely heard his older brother call for Batman, voice concerned with the tiniest undertone of panic as he relayed the situation to B.

Once they were on the roof, Jason started to feel his teeth chattering as Dick tried to soothe him, “It’s okay, Little Wing. B’s on his way and then we’ll get you nice and warm.”

If Jason could, he absolutely would roll his eyes as Nightwing adjusted his grip to hold Jason just the tiniest bit closer before pulling them both to the next rooftop to wait for Batman to show up. Jason bared his teeth, snarling again when he saw the soft white snowflakes float down through the air. Cutting through the smog and filth of Gotham like it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course it was snowing. Jason hated the snow and he hated the biting cold wind that served only to intensify the burning in his limbs. He felt like if his brother dropped him, even stumbled the tiniest bit, he would shatter into a thousand pieces.

He mumbled a response back into the older boy’s shoulder, “S’okay. Glad you were there to catch me, Wing.”

He wanted to punch Dick in the shoulder for trying to coddle him like a child, though. He wasn’t a child and he didn’t need to be soothed. It wasn’t the pain or the cold that was the worst part, it was that he knew that if he looked down the dark streets of the Alley for too long he would see ghosts. Memories of him trudging along in the dead of night, trying his best to stay out of the wandering eyes of the two bit thugs and D list criminals as he made his way across Crime Alley and twice back. If he closed his eyes he was sure he could feel the soaked through clothes clinging to his frame, making him shiver even more before he curled up into the corner of a long deserted alleyway, streets away from the nearest shelter. Sometimes, if he were in particular dire straits or if he was feeling ballsy, he would worm his way over to the public housing buildings, nestling in the corner by a vent that exhausted hot air that would warm his sodden and weary bones.

He hated that when his eyelids fluttered closed all he could see was a flash of blue toned bodies, not unlike Freeze. Sometimes their eyes would be closed and other times they’d be wide open, the crows taking their lion’s share from their sockets. All unnaturally still, just like his mother had been. Jason kept his eyes open, trying to focus on anything else. N’s soft reassurances only served to annoy him though, so instead he focused on the noises of the city.

He could hear the loud curses from five streets over, the sound of boots hitting the tarmac below them, the rumble of cars as they rolled through intersections and down back alley streets. He heard the wail of sirens over the bridge, even with the snow, the sounds and the heartbeat of Gotham could never truly be silenced. They would only be muffled until the snow melted again off of the gargoyles and the sharp brutalist architecture of the city in the spring, when it would come back in full force. Even with the snow, Gotham didn’t bother trying to hide what it was.

Jason’s ears perked up, red and ringing and it hurt to move, but he had done a decent job of ignoring the pain when he heard the soft motor of the Batmobile pull up. His teeth were still chattering and his limbs still shaking and burning, but he had distracted himself enough. Dick gently handed him off to B, who wrapped his own cape around Jason’s body before propelling down the side of the warehouse. Jason lulled his head against the rough Kevlar of Batman, tugging Bruce’s cape a little closer around him as he let out a small breath. The Batmobile was warm in the way that there was an initial blast of warm air when he first entered, but after a while it started to feel just like you were next to the fireplace, warming your soul after a long journey.

“Status report?”

Jason could feel the question rumble around in Bruce’s chest as he was gently placed into the passenger seat of the Batmobile. It made sense that B would want to put him closer to the vents, so  he didn’t protest too much. Jason felt a little sad when he felt Batman’s cape slip off of his shoulders as the older man crouched down in front of him. He barely registered Nightwing sliding into the back seats as he considered the question.

“‘M not hurt. Just cold,” He choked out, wrapping his own cape around him once more and burying his face in the soft fabric. He scrunched his nose up, almost missing the way that Bruce’s face softened under the cowl before he continued, “Really fuckin’ cold.”

“Language.” Bruce scolded immediately. There was a snicker in the backseat.

“Do you think Agent A will make me hot chocolate when we get back?” He asked, to no one in particular. He scrunched up his face in disgust, not liking how young his voice sounded as he was fighting to stay conscious. The burning cold he had felt before had subsided into more of a full body ache while he was parked in front of the heat and with Bruce blocking most of the cold air with his body. He thought he saw the smallest smile on Batman’s lips, but he couldn’t be sure as he turned away with a swish of his cape, moving to the back of the car for some reason.

He returned a few seconds later, gently swaddling Jason in the thickest blanket they kept for emergencies, answering, “Of course, chum.”

With one last look at the snowflakes that didn’t melt immediately on Batman’s cape and the hard line of Bruce’s jaw, Jason watched as he closed the door and they started on their journey homeward. Dick shifted in the back too, over a seat so Jason could see him out of the peripheral of his vision. He appreciated that as he squirmed in the blanket, trying to tug the tiniest bit over his head. Doc Thompkins had mentioned something about keeping the center of the body warm in relation to hypothermia. Head, neck, chest, and groin should be covered. Jason was already pretty burrito-ed up, but he wanted to keep his head warm. They all lapsed into a tense silence. Jason could feel the waves of worry and concern coming off of both Bruce and Dick. It was the stiffness in Batman’s movements that gave the man away and the slight frown tugging at his lips under the cowl, followed almost immediately after by the flexing of his jaw. Bruce only did that when he was hellbent on fixing something.

Dick did tend to go stiff as well, but that was when he was in the field. His older brother had a habit of bouncing his knee and drumming his fingers on the tops of his knee. It was a habit Jason had only ever observed when he was a public figure, the son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson. He didn’t know why it comforted him so much to see the older boy drumming his long, lithe fingers on the soft fabric of his suit, just above his knee, but it did. The older boy was being uncharacteristically quiet, though. Jason felt his shoulders slump a little when he finally forced himself to acknowledge that he was okay. He was safe with people who would protect him. He was going to get warm and he could probably skip school tomorrow if he wanted, which actually kind of sucked.

“Jay?” Bruce had put a gloved hand on his shoulder and Jason jumped rather violently. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even seen the hero move. He felt Bruce immediately rescind his hand from Jason’s shoulder, voice still in the Batman growl, when he apologized and asked, “What was that face for?”

He hadn’t even realized that he had screwed his face up into something like distaste until Bruce called him out for it. He suddenly looked down, fiddling with his hands even though they were trapped in the cocoon of the blanket, suddenly more than a little sheepish as he bit the inside of his cheek. He cleared his throat, “I don’t want to miss school tomorrow.”

There was another snicker from the back seat. Bruce clearly hadn’t been expecting that particular answer, since he took a second to reply. They were almost in Bristol now and Jason suddenly felt very tired. 

“I don’t know if you’ll be going to school tomorrow, especially if this snow keeps up.”

Jason nodded, there was about an inch of snow dusting the ground already and it was coming down hard, in fat clumps of snowflakes. When they had still been in the city the boroughs had already started to salt the ground, which was warning enough for Jason that they expected a lot of snow. He hoped so. He didn’t want to miss doing his book report in Ms. Jones’ class. She was his favorite and she was always so interested in what Jason had to say, especially about analyzing the classics that they were reading in class. 

He was fighting to keep his eyes open when they finally pulled into the Cave. Jason waited for Bruce to come over to his side and pick him up, carrying him up into the manor. Jason knew he was going to be soaked in a lukewarm bath and then bundled up in warm, dry clothes before he could even get a whiff of hot chocolate, but it didn’t make it suck any less. Alfred must’ve already drawn the bath, since they were headed straight for his bathroom. He started tugging off pieces of his uniform when Bruce finally put him down. He let the blanket slide down around his shoulders, pooling on the ground as he yawned. Dick had stayed down in the Cave to see if he could help the butler with anything, and if he got hot chocolate before Jason he was going to be pissed.

Bruce disappeared into Jason’s room for a second, apparently looking for the appropriately warm clothes for him to put on when he was done with his bath by the sliding of the drawers. Jason stripped down to his boxers before letting the blanket fall completely on the floor. To his horror, when he looked at his bare skin in the pale yellow lighting of the bathroom, there was a layer of frost sparkling back up at him. Just like the frost that coated the bodies of people who he saw die. Jason could feel the panic building, his body shaking even more violently now that it had both anxiety and the cold to contend with. Just when Jason felt like he was going to lose it, Batman appeared in the doorway. 

It was Bruce’s gray blue eyes that met his gaze instead of the flat stare of Batman. B’s entire face softened at the bare panic that was threatening to consume Jason whole and he stepped forward, asking if he could give Jason a hug. At least, that’s what he thought his adoptive dad was asking him, considering Jason couldn’t really hear anything. He merely nodded and within seconds he was pulled into a bear hug. Jason hated to admit it, but he loved Bruce’s hugs.

Jason didn’t know when he had started sobbing, but he could feel his hot tears on his skin, soaking into Bruce’s cape at his shoulder. It was too much. His body was still shaking and to add sobbing to the mix? It was taking too much energy out of Jason. Energy he didn’t have. But Bruce held him there for more than a couple minutes, rubbing soothing circles on his back before he pulled away. Jason dried his eyes and sniffled once more, trying his best not to look at his skin. He knew it was time to get into the bath.

What he hadn’t expected was for Bruce to join him in the bath, but he did after he was done stripping away his own armor. Jason was wrapped securely up in Bruce’s arms as he hid in his chest. It had been a long night of both old and new trauma and Jason wanted nothing more than for it to be over as he clung to his father’s chest. The water had stung when he had first gotten in, but it was starting to thaw out his skin. It felt nice, after a while. Jason let his eyes flutter closed, relaxing more when he felt Bruce give his curls a feather-light kiss as he murmured reassurances. Jason liked being able to feel the words rumble around in the older man’s chest. It reminded Jason a lot of how cats purred. 

He could feel Bruce gently nudge his shoulder, willing him out of the half sleep he had fallen into sometime later. Begrudgingly, he managed to open his eyes, if only for the fear that shot through his heart at the idea that if he fell asleep while still freezing he wouldn’t wake up. He was met with as close to a smile as Bruce’s face normally got, the very corners of his lips lifted up in a small quirk that only happened when he was amused. Jason could see the amusement twinkling in his eyes before he spoke, “I think it’s time to get you to bed, Jaylad.” He rubbed his eye, “D’you think my temp is back up to normal?” Bruce nodded, ignoring the slant of Jason’s vowels that leaned very heavily to Crime Alley. It really only happened if Jason was dead tired, or if he was trying to make Bruce laugh, or if he was trying to annoy Bruce. He was getting better at codeswitching now, but he still missed being able to use Alley slang. He could really only use it on the kids he interacted with on patrol and half the time they just would stare blank faced up at him in awe and confusion. It was one part that he desperately missed. Jason yawned again, slowly working his way out of the bathtub. 

He didn’t mind at all when Bruce grabbed the thermometer and checked his temperature twice before saying he needed to change. That at least was par for the course. They both needed to change, Jason thought as he tugged on the sofiest pair of pajama pants he owned and a well loved hoodie. He would change into a t-shirt before bed. Jason didn’t like to wear long sleeves to bed, especially now that he didn’t have to. He stretched, wandering out into the hallway to see if Alfred was still up. He really wanted that hot chocolate. And to say goodnight to Dick. 

He could hear the soft voice of the TV that they kept in the kitchen floating up the main staircase. It was an unintelligible murmur, but it still calmed him down a bit. Alfred normally made it a habit of keeping it on as background noise during the nights that they went on patrol, it was normally tuned to channel seven, which reported on the Gotham news. It was a way for the butler to make sure they were okay when he wasn’t in the Cave. 

Jason padded down the dark hallway of the foyer, his footsteps muffled by the long runner that ran down the length of it. He was rubbing his eye now, his sleeve pulled over his hand as he tried to fight back the tiredness that was tugging at the peripheral of his being. Jason vaguely hoped that he would be too tired to dream. 

“Ah, it appears young master Jason is awake after all,” Alfred’s soft voice greeted, stopping momentarily from scrubbing some dishes in the apron front sink they had. Dick was changed and dressed in civvies, perched on a stool by the island, his hands cradling a mug. Jason glared at him. His older brother only smiled cheekily, before ruffling Jason’s still wet hair. 

“It’s coffee, Jay.”

Was Dick waiting for him to come down so they could all have hot chocolate together? Jason didn’t know what to do with that particular thought. No one had ever done that for him before, not even Dick. Granted, his older brother would normally high tail it off the Manor grounds the second the coast was clear, even now. The younger boy cringed, not wanting Bruce and his brother to fight, especially when he was already dealing with so much. He pushed all those feelings aside though, hopping up on the stool next to the older boy and asked Alfred if they could have some hot chocolate, if the butler didn’t mind making it.

“Of course, lad. It’s no problem at all,” Came Alfred’s easy reply. Jason beamed up at him before jumping off and finishing washing up the dishes in the sink. It was only fair, especially since Alfred had so readily accepted his request. Dick remained at the island, sipping his coffee as he watched his brother. 

“You alright?” He asked around a pause in his coffee intake. Jason didn’t turn to face him, instead he continued towel drying the dishes left in the basin, considering his older brother. He wasn’t going to tell Dick that he was probably going to have nightmares tonight, his brother didn’t need to know that. Instead, Jason was considering if he was physically okay. The bath had helped warm him up considerably, he was no longer a pile of aching skin and muscle. The heat in the manor didn’t burn against his chilled skin like it had when Bruce first brought him up. It felt pleasant now. Jason nodded his head once, agreeing with himself before he voiced his response. 

“Yeah,” He called over his shoulder, “I’m alright.” 

Jason didn’t see the relieved smile that settled on the man behind him, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there as Dick sighed, “Yeah? Okay, good.”

He had placed the last dish on the drying rack when he knew Bruce was on the staircase. Jason had yet to figure out exactly how he knew when his adoptive dad was on the staircase, since the man never made any sound, but he always just knew. Alfred had turned down the volume on the TV considerably when he put the milk on the stove and the three of them had lapsed into a comfortable silence. Alfred being too focused on making sure the milk wouldn’t burn and Dick not wanting to push his little brother to talk about things that he didn’t want to talk about. It was nice, Jason decided as he once again pulled himself up onto the stool, Bruce in the doorway now. 

He felt a strong hand ruffle his curls as B passed behind him, a baritone voice asking without any heat, “What are you still doing up? I thought I told you to go to bed.”

Jason smirked, “Waiting for hot chocolate, old man.”

The man chuckled, flicking his son’s ear. Jason swatted his hand away, grumbling as he sunk down in his seat. Dick was smirking next to him, eyes alight with mirth and mischief as he tried desperately to not laugh. 

“Would you like me to prepare you a mug, Master Bruce?”

He paused in front of the fridge, his hand wrapped around the stainless steel handle as he considered the butler. Jason wouldn’t mind, it would be nice to have all of them together before he went to bed. He didn’t want to admit it, but it would make him feel safe with everyone in his little family chatting and sharing a drink.

“Yes, actually,” Bruce responded, opening the fridge to pull out a can of whipped cream and then striding over to one of the cabinets. Jason sat in awe as he watched the older man stretch up to tug down four mugs. Bruce’s size had intimidated him when he first arrived at the manor, but now that he knew Batman, and by default Bruce, was a protector he had grown to be in awe of the man. Jason hoped that he would be as strong as Bruce was, one day. He would use his strength and size to shield people, to be a protector, just like Bruce.

He watched as the man set the mugs on the counter, pushing two towards both of the boys, while he brushed past Alfie to dig around in the pantry. He returned with a bag of small marshmallows in one hand and hot chocolate mix in the other. It was a wonder that Alfred even let them keep the marshmallows in the house, since the brit despised any form of overly processed sugar. Bruce had convinced him to keep them, if only one, in the house for this very reason and Jason was eternally grateful for it. The butler reluctantly agreed but not before making all three of them swear that they wouldn’t eat them straight out of the bag. Jason watched Alfred take the milk off the heat, moving behind Bruce to pour it smoothly into each of their mugs. 

Jason immediately wrapped his hands around the warmth of the mug, reaching over the counter to reach the whipped cream and serving himself a generous amount. He only stopped from squirting the whipped cream directly in his mouth because Alfred was there. He passed it over to his brother and took a greedy sip. He practically melted in his chair. It was so good! It was so rich and smooth and not too hot that it burned the top of his mouth and his tongue. Alfred was the best.

They quickly devolved into happy chatter amongst themself, laughing and teasing among each other as they enjoyed their warm drinks and watched the snow float through the air through the kitchen window. Jason felt content for the first time in a long while.

[hilllsnholland]

Undeniable (Grey’s Anatomy Inspired)

Attending!Tom Holland x Resident!Reader 

Wc: 4.2k 

Warnings: medical talk, swearing, smut 

Summary: It’s a beautiful day to save lives....and get freaky in the on-call room

A/N: I maaaay have watched a little too much Grey’s lately because all I want is to write some sexy Doctor smut. Also, I know nothing about the medical field. If I get something wrong, who cares? It’s fanfiction. Or you can message me nicely. Either way, enjoy this mess of feelings. 

_____

Hospital life was not all it was cracked up to be. You learned that your first year interning, having to clean patient’s cavities and do the dirty work for your Resident. Yet, somehow it was the most calming place in the world. You could have a full day of rounds, surgeries, and post-ops and you’d still feel like the luckiest person in the world to work at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital.

Although it did have its moments, like now. As soon as you stepped onto your usual floor you were bombarded by your interns. They asked you questions that you were far too busy for, begging for a chance to scrub in on a surgery with you that day. You didn’t even have any for them to even pick from. But interns were savages. Birds picking at dead skeletons hoping to prove their worth. You remembered those days so you went easy on them. Giving them chances and building them up, but today was not a day of compassion. It was tough love day.

“Doctor Y/L/N, patient in room 304 needs-”

“Is it something you can do?” You interrupted while looking down on your papers.

“I mean yes but-”

“You don’t need permission to be a Doctor, Reid.” You handed your interns paperwork for rounds and sighed. “Reid, go with Maloney and deal with whatever the patient needs. Unless he’s literally dying I don’t want to be bothered,”

Your interns nodded at you like a bunch of children, grabbing their round work and rushing off into the rooms. Sometimes you swore they’d be the death of you. They needed confidence, which is why you set them loose on days like these. It wasn’t busy, just routine surgeries and looking after patients. It was vital they learned how to do busy work. Not every day you’re a hero. Even though you felt particularly heroic today so you scanned the surgery board, looking at today’s schedule and noticed a General surgery that piqued your interest.

“Hello Doctor Princess,” Harrison greeted you, leaning over the nurse's station.

“Morning Doctor McHottie,”

Harrison grinned but pretended to roll his eyes at you. He was playful, young, and bright. A Trauma God is what the interns called him. He was a master of problem solving in tight situations, which is why you admired him. Harrison moved next to you, whistling at the board.

“I think a certain someone will be asking you to scrub in today?” He hummed, winking at you.

“Would that be you?”

“Sadly not, it’s me darling,”

You and Harrison shot to your left, seeing Tom coolly writing in his paperwork. His curls were pushed back, giving him that sexy relaxed look. You try to hide the redness coming to your skin by smiling at the Attending, but your heart was pounding in your chest. You’ve scrubbed in with Tom plenty of times, but it always happened like this. You would get all child-like, shaking in anticipation to show your worth. You were like an intern again. It was a constant battle, but the surgery was worth it.

“I can’t wait,” You nod to Tom who smiles. Harrison mocks you and you slam your elbow into his side.

Tom walks past you, eyes locked on yours with the most sensual smirk on his lips. Tom was a sight at the hospital. Attractive, young, and a heart of gold. He was everything you wanted in a doctor and more. As Tom walks away from you, there’s a glimpse of something in his eyes. Longing? Fierceness? You weren’t sure, but it was sexy. The thirst was aching in your heart, to get more than a somewhat friendly, somewhat work, relationship with him. Tom looks directly into your eyes and you stop.

“It’s a beautiful day to save lives,”

____

“You’re a petty prick!”

“And you’re a self-serving psychopath!”

That did not last long, you heard Harrison mutter as you and Tom rushed out of the operating room. You slammed your gloves into the disposal bin, tossing aside your scrub cap while Tom followed close behind. He was fuming, veins popping from his neck and eyes narrowed on you. He disposed of his bloodied garments while you slammed the door in his face. The two of you were pissed at each for what was the hundredth time.

This time though it was inexcusable. Tom didn’t trust you in the surgery and belittled your judgment. It was a routine procedure that went horribly wrong. There was too much bleeding and the patient's heart was flatlining. You did what you thought would be the most efficient, cutting out the rest of the mass and finishing the job. Tom, however, was upset as he was leading the surgery, and you took over.

“Y/N, don’t walk away from me,” Tom keeps his voice calm around the nurses and patients but you kept walking.

You needed a break. It was a long surgery and you needed to get away from Tom. After working with him for several years you would have hoped that he trusted you but nope. He treated you like that small minded intern that he met so long ago. That was your worst fear. Being just a child to the older surgeons. They would never respect you the way they respected their peers, especially male peers. Harrison said you were making it up in your head, but this just proved it. Suddenly though you were dragged into an on-call room. Tom shuts the door and crosses his arms at you, like a father lecturing their child. It angered you, causing the heat in your stomach to rise.

“Y/N, you put the patient at risk with that stunt you pulled-“

“I saved his life!”

Stubborn, a word that everyone would associate with you. It was clear to you though that you did what was right. You saved the man’s life, ruling out the need for a second surgery. In your eyes, you were a hero.

“You didn’t know that though!” Tom raises his voice and throws his hands up. “You could have made it worse. You may have made his recovery harder than it needed to be. You were rushed and could have left pieces of the mass behind. You don’t know Y/N.”

Tom had snapped, but not in frustration, tears were brimming to his eyes. In all your years you’ve only seen Tom cry a few times. Only after losing a truly emotional patient or a child. And that one time he got so drunk at the Christmas party that he cried over a kitten pillow. This though, he was serious. His body shook with such ferocity you’ve never seen before. He was shaken, humiliated to be outright disregarded in his own surgery. Completely torn because you didn’t trust him.

“Tom, I’m sorry,” You speak softly. “I just wanted to save this man’s life. Make it easier for him to go back to his family. I’m sorry,”

Tom rested his head on the top bunk of the on-call beds. He looked a mess, something was eating him up inside. There was so much pressure on him, on his team, on this whole entire hospital. It was something you never thought of when in surgery. It was only you and the patient. Everything else was background noise to your end goal. It sounds selfish, but it had the highest success rate yet. You thought you had control, but watching Tom break down made it clear that what you did was irresponsible.

“Y/N, you got a lot of heart.” Tom rubs his face and pushed the hair out of his face. “More heart than a surgeon needs. You put the good of the world over the reality of medicine. One of the reasons why I admire you most is because you look death in the eyes and tell him ‘fuck you’”

You laugh and Tom cracks a smile through his broken composure. For years it had been this weird friendship between the two of you. One or both of you would get pissed, someone makes a joke, and then it’s all better. Most of the time it was stolen glances, smiles behind surgical masks, or late night drinks at the bar.

So many nights at the bar though, drinking shots of tequila or vodka. If you wanted to see someone drink themselves into oblivion, watch a doctor. It was some sort of right of passage to drink at Emerald City Bar across the street, drowning sorrows from the day’s surgeries or consultations. The Bar was a safe place, and an amazing place to sit down with Tom and have existential talks late at night. Talks that became so passionate, so intimate, that you felt the sexual tension coursing through the room. Many times you thought Tom would take the leap of faith, but here you were, becoming flushed by his simple compliment.

“I admire you also,” You take a step forward. “You’re the only surgeon in this fucking hospital who gives a shit. I’ve seen you send holiday cards to your old patients. You make them feel safe. You make them your family,”

Tom exhales softly, his body moving on its own to get closer to you. It was undeniable at this point. All the frustration was stemming from his urge to have you. Long nights on call he would think of you to calm his nerves. Even nights away at the hospital he wished you were to banter with him, keep him warm, and satisfy his needs. It was against every code he set for himself but he wanted to kiss you so badly.

“Y/N, although I’ve been a surgeon longer than you have, I feel like you’ve taught me more than any professor or chief.” Tom’s fingers dance up your arms. “You are a brilliant surgeon. You are the sun and we are only the planets and meteors that surround you,”

Tom’s eyes are locked on yours. He can’t look away anymore, he needs to finish this now. You saw this, the hunger building and it only antagonized your affection for him. It would be a lie to say you haven’t had feelings since your first day of interning. How could you not? Tom was the youngest Attending at the hospital, charming and sweet. He took you under his wing without taking advantage of you. What was happening now though, this was a blossoming attraction that had been building for years.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Since the beginning, it had been you and him. It made sense for the two of you to be the ultimate team. When you’ve scrubbed in for his surgeries there was never a doubt in his mind that you would fail. That was what sparked his interest long ago, your determination during a Whipple procedure. You were skillful and delicate, making sure that this patient would never have to worry again. Tom stood back, watched you with ease. That was not common, especially with a first-year intern. Most interns couldn’t tell the difference aphagia and aphakia. You though, you were the sun. You shined bright and gave life to every patient you touched.

“I would, especially after today’s surgery,” Tom was now almost pressed against your body and breathing offbeat. “Watching you hands…so agile and…and…”

What happened next was a flash, but you would be lying if you didn’t expect it. Tom melted his lips into yours in a flurry of passion. You grabbed his face and pulled at his luscious curls, needing him to be as close as possible. It was sloppy, but what can expect from years of build up? Not everything was roses and champagne. Right now it was the aroma of sanitizing soap and scrubs. Tom hoisted you up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist and then pressed you against the wall of the on-call room. His lips traveled down your neck, leaving wet kisses over the sensitive area. Fuck it’s been too long.

It was a mess of massaging and groping, his hands moving everywhere on your body while you held him as close as possible. Nothing had ever felt so right, his body grinding down on yours in a lustful, almost animalistic, rhythm. You could feel him tenting in his scrubs, the low groans leaving his lips and vibrating on yours. It was a scene of weakness, finally coming together after so much pinning in silence. If either of you knew how easy this would have been then this would have happened ages ago. It felt right. Your bodies made for one another.

“Is this…is this okay?” You whine while still holding a tight clump of his hair.

“More than okay,” He gasps against your skin. “I’ve been in love with you forever Y/N. I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to jeopardize our careers…but I can’t hold back anymore.”

There was a pause. He put all out there, no going back essentially. Tom waited to see if you would want to continue. If he needed to walk out and act like the never happened, he would. But he couldn’t deny those pestering feelings anymore. Tom could not act like you were not the most amazing thing in his life. You meet his gaze and kissed him again but sweeter. Much more innocent to the previous actions. It wasn’t so timid like a first kiss you have in middle school, but it was soft. It was the kind of kiss you give to the person you cherish more than anything in this world. Like a goodbye kiss, but only this one spoke a thousand words for Tom.

“I love you,” You whispered. “Tom, I need you…”

With a swift roll of your hips you ground yourself against his groin. Tom threw her head back slightly, murmuring a low groan against your lips. That was all he needed. Tom dropped you to your feet and scrambled to lock the door. You started throwing your scrubs off, pulling your hair out of the tight pony and letting the hair fall seductively on your shoulders. Tom turns to you and just stops dead in his tracks. He memorized the moment so he could have it forever. The way you looked in a mismatched bra and panty set and how you were smiling at him. Tom had never seen you like this, so undone and vulnerable. You kept yourself professional, taking your hair done only after work and sometimes during lunch breaks. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

“What are you waiting for huh?” You tease.

Tom picked you up again and laid you on the bed. He continued to kiss down your throat and sucked on the ample skin of your breasts. Your hands went to massage him through the scrubs, his cock desperate for your attention, which prompted his low grunts. He couldn’t stop being vocal, this has been his dream for years. Tom wanted you to know that it was only you who could make him feel so good. You felt victorious, getting a man so desirable like Tom to melt into your hands.

It was more than the sex though, it was the need for him to get closer to you. Tom could have stopped at just the kiss, but you were devouring him in every way. Your eyes spoke sex and your hands were needy. Tom couldn’t resist you, urging the only fabrics in the way to be removed. You slipped the rest of his clothes off and tried to hold in a gasp. You had always wondered what Tom’s body looked like under the loose-fitting scrubs, but you did not expect him to be completely built. Tom’s toned abs felt like magic on your fingertips. Tom was confident though, smugly laughing as you admired his body.

“Get in me now,” You whined.

Tom chokes a laugh out while your lips go to raid his perfect skin. He treasures the moment, dragging his fingers down to your clit and moving slow circles on them. He knew the body, he studied it for years, yet touching you for the first time was otherworldly. The way you thrusted forward towards him boosted his ego even more, his fingers continuing the pace and feeling the wetness pool around him. Your hand went jerk Tom, his member twitching as your thumb spreads precum down the tip. Thank god the room was sound proof because the desperate whines of presex were uncontrollable. Tom slipped your black thong down to your ankles, you kicked them off and eased yourself back under his control. It was no longer a power struggle, the two of you were working through the motions and loving every second of it.

“Ready?” Tom shifted himself so he was leveled with your opening.

He didn’t need the verbal confirmation, the passionate kiss you gave him was enough. Tom eased himself into you and the overwhelming euphoria engulfed your body.  Tom lifted himself on his forearms to get better leverage to pump in and out. You were in a fit of giggles with the pure happiness bubbling deep inside. Tom only stopped grinning once he bottomed out and the sloppy flat smile appeared on his face. His eyes rolled back as you bucked toward him. He had never felt something so intense in his life. The way you knew how to use him, move around him to get that knot in his stomach to tighten. Tom followed your rhythm, slowly pumping in and out of you so he could savor the feeling. Your nails clawed into Tom’s back to steady yourself with the movements and you met Tom’s gaze through dazed eyes.

“You…are so…beautiful,” His words came out in short huffs of air.

Tom couldn’t look away. He loved the closeness that he felt when staring back at you. It was only you and him. It didn’t matter if there was a hospital full of people, or a whole world full of people, it was just the two of you against it all.

“I love you,” You whisper like it was the first time you had said it. “I do…fuck I love you…”

Your head fell back at the knot loosening in your stomach. You didn’t want it to end, but something about this was shaking you to your core. It may be the way he thrusted so deep inside of you, turning you into a mess of whiny moans. Or it could be the way his fingers danced along your clit, easing you to your quick release. He knew your body too well, even if it was the first time. It was instinctual.  Tom met your lips again while quickening his thrusts. His sloppy movements and muffled curses intensified the incoming orgasm. You buckled down as the knot snapped inside of you. Tom pressed down on you as you shook with pleasure.

“Fuck…Y/N…” Tom’s eyes rolled back and you felt his warmth fill you.

His body slumped down on top of you. The heat of his body flushed against you made the realization of what really happened hit you even harder. Your fingers trickled through his hair, pulling at the loose curls that were wet with sweat. Tom peppered sweet kisses to your forehead, humming against the skin while his fingers trace your arms.

“We…we really did that…” Your breath is rippled due to his weight on your chest.

“Yeah,” Tom looks down at you. “Are you having second thoughts?”

Tom was trying to not gulp so loudly at the sudden fear coursed through his body. You nuzzled into his chest, shaking your head and kissing his toned fiery body.

“Never. I mean it when I say I love you,” You hold his face to make sure he looks straight into your eyes. “I just don’t want this to jeopardize anything we have. Our careers and friendships, you know?”

There wasn’t a ‘No dating’ policy at the hospital, but when people did date it got complicated. You were not one for drama, neither was Tom, so to add this aspect into your lives was another feat. It also didn’t help that gossip traveled quicker than sickness in Grey Sloan Memorial. Tom kisses your temple and nods.

“I totally agree love. We should keep this to ourselves for a bit until we figure everything out.”

You kept your feelings a secret for years so a few months of dating in secrecy wouldn’t be a big deal. Tom longingly looked at you, the same look he gave you that morning when asking you to scrub in. That was the face, he wanted to say those words and longed to finally hold you in his arms. You kiss him again, but you couldn’t imagine not kissing him anymore. So many years you spent wondering what his lips tasted like and now they were yours to take. It was pure, even if you both naked and glowing with post-sex, but it was innocent and full of those gooey emotions. Although you were adults, medically trained adults at that, it was so easy to fall for the feelings that only appear in romance novels. But it was love.

“Hey, are-”

You and Tom shot up with wide eyes looking at the open door. Tom locked it, he was sure he locked the fucking door but there was Harrison, peeking his head in with a bewildered expression. You didn’t know what to say or do, Tom tried to get up but he was covering your naked body and you held him against your chest. He grabbed the blanket that was tucked underneath your legs and covered the both of you to save some modesty.

“Harrison, I swear to god, if you say anything-”

“Mouths shut!” Harrison exclaims and shuts the door behind him, entering the room. “I’ve been waiting years for this. My two best friends together! A dream come true!”

Harrison paced around the room excitedly, seemingly ignoring the fact that the two of you were naked and in a compromising position. Tom grabbed his scrub bottoms from the floor and shimmied them on from underneath the thin blanket. Harrison was too consumed by his ramblings, going on and on about how he knew there was something happening, that he didn’t notice Tom shoving him towards the door.

You couldn’t help but stare, although you found it amusing you were still in shock. Harrison oblivious to it all, and you wondered how long he’s suspected something. And how long he’s known the two of you liked each other and didn’t say anything.

“Haz, I love you mate but you gotta read the room,” Tom patted him on the back and opened the on-call door slightly.

“Yeah, yeah man. This will be our little secret.”

Harrison winks and struts down the hallway, giddy as could be. You finally took a breath for the first time since Harrison caught the two of you. There was an awkward tension in the air as you grabbed your clothes to put back on. The day had to go on, there were interns to instruct and patients to save. But you would be lying if you didn’t want to spend the whole day in bed with Tom. It would be a dirty lie to say you wouldn’t be craving him and wanting him again later tonight. Tom threw on his shirt and made his way to the bed to kiss your head again. He was one for simple gestures, you noticed. He loved to simply touch you, know that you’re in arms reach for confirmation.

“So much for our plan huh,” Tom murmurs.

“It’s alright. We still have each other,”

You stood up, grabbing his hand and bringing him to the door. It would look suspicious if you left together but you wanted to enjoy the last few moments of bliss before you’re whisked away by some foolish intern or another Resident wanting to compare notes. There could be a whole tragedy going on outside those walls and you wouldn’t know it. But for once, your mind wasn’t on that. It was how Tom was smiling at you, slightly crooked teeth but they were sparkling the same. His cheeky smile didn’t make you feel like a schoolgirl anymore, but it did fill you with glee to know you were causing that smile.

“I’ll see you around,” You kiss him quickly and open the door.

“Where you going so fast?” Tom hid against the sidewall while you looked for any watchers.

You step out, only looking into the room to say your final goodbye to your lover, boyfriend, what have you now. That was a conversation for another time.

“A sexy man once told me, ‘it’s a beautiful day to save lives’,” You winked at him and strutted down the hallway.

Tom watched you, wholeheartedly smitten with everything about you. It wasn’t your looks, but your brains, wits, everything that made you, you. Surgeon life could be sorrowing, having to break the news of death and pain, but somehow you were the sun in all of that. The hospital walls seemed lest dreary, the cafeteria tasted less bland, and Tom felt a resurgence of vigor towards the craft. It was stupid, undeniable, love. And he was absolutely okay with that.

////

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tagging cuz idk: @spiderboytotherescue @laureharrier @starksparker @stuckonspidey @hollandroos @peterplanet @peterporkerpete @naturallytom @captainbuckyy @marvelouspeterparker @madmadmilk @blissfulparker @mcuspidey

[weltonreject]

our october traditions.

|| for @zombiebowlcut​ and their genius mind. boris’s first american halloween. || ao3

i.

Theo heaved two very large, but equally misshapen pumpkins onto the kitchen counter. Boris was staring at the newspaper-- upside, mind you-- and didn’t even notice Theo until he nearly placed a large gourd in his lap.

The newspaper folded down almost perfectly. “What is that?”

“It’s a pumpkin, shithead. We’re going to start decorating for Halloween.”

“What?” Boris furrowed his eyebrows and acted like Theo was speaking in tongues. They hadn’t even started drinking that afternoon; Theo made sure of it. It seemed a bit dangerous if either of them were under any sort of influence. “Decorating?”

“Yeah! I’m going to teach you how to carve a pumpkin.”

“...What?”

Theo ignored Boris’s confusion. “Okay so first, lay out the newspaper on the table while I get a knife or something.” Theo pointed loosely with his hand as he started pulling out kitchen drawers. He pretended he didn’t see the strangely filled sandwich bags and looked only for any useful utensils.

“Knife? To cut?” Boris said, stepping down from the chair. He dug in his pocket before snapping a switch blade out of his dark jeans. If Theo wasn’t looking, he would have mistaken it for his snapping wrist.

“Jesus, Boris. Since when in the fuck did you start carrying that around?”

“Um, got knife... from someone sleeping in my house.” Boris shrugged, turning it in his hand. It was slightly comforting to see the handle sitting somewhat uncomfortably in the palm of Boris’s hand. Of all the things he’d held, it was nice to see a weapon fit the worst.

“...Okay... I’m not gonna touch on that one. Just, um, make sure it’s, uh, clean and then pick your pumpkin.”

Boris flipped the blade in his hand, shrugging at it. Theo began unfolded the newspaper and spreading it over the counter island. He nodded toward Boris, who was still staring at the two pumpkins with indifferent disgust. At Theo’s instruction, again, he suddenly slapped his hand out onto the larger of the two.

“This one.” He said, almost proudly. “Is mine.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Theo had been a fan of the most simple triangular features for his jack-o-lanterns. His mother had always been the one with the artistic hand and the more inventive ideas. She made a bat one year, parts of the cutout left remaining to show the bones and structure of the wings. Theo tried to keep it up well into November, he’d loved it so much.

“Ideas about what, Potter? Have no idea what we are doing. Bring in strange fruits and ask me to pick, then to cut, then to-- ideas, Potter? Have one idea. You have lost mind. Desert has done lot to you. Je-sus.”

“You have to carve something into it, Jackass. You don’t just cut shit out. It’s decoration, not the ER left-overs of a bar fight.”

Boris smirked at him. “What do you know about bar fight? Would never do such a thing.”

“I’ll deck you right now, fuck off.” Theo shoved Boris harshly, forgetting for a moment he had a knife in his hands. Luckily, it clattered onto the table; Boris dropping it the moment Theo stepped up to him. He was more aware of the danger than Theo was. “Think of a face or something to cut out. It’s whatever you want.”

Boris mulled the concept over with surprising thought. He turned his head side to side, flopping his hair back and forth. It was in a matted clump from sleeping in Theo’s bed earlier-- really only getting up a few hours before. His lips pursed before he smacked them and clapped his hands deafeningly loud. It shook Theo enough to remind him to stop staring before Boris turned back to him.

“Have it. Can see it.” Boris reached for the knife.

“Wait! Hold on! You have to carve the top part out first. It’s the lid and how you get all the insides out.”

“Huh?”

“Cut around the stem so you can lift it up and out. Like a lid-- you’re supposed to put candles in jack-o-lanterns. And you can’t do that if it’s got all it’s guts inside.”

Theo thought he’d confused Boris more. But without much preamble, Boris bought the knife down into the top of the pumpkin. Both of his hands gripped the handle of the blade; it was still an uncomfortable object to wield. Thank God.

He practically hung over the pumpkin, trying to get his entire arm into it. Theo felt like he was watching a surgeon discover his love for anatomy.

“Ha! Is like putting hand inside someone.” Boris laughed, his elbow flexing as he moved his arm around. Theo could hear the pumpkin squishing in Boris’s hands, right between his fingers.

“Uck! Boris, that’s gross.”

“Do not mean intestines, Potter.” Boris said wryly, lifting his hand up and rolling his fingers around in the orange, stringy mess.

“EW! That’s fucking gross. That can not be what-- Ew. No. That’s gross. Fuck off.” Theo wanted to gag but didn’t want to look weak; able to handle insurmountable amounts of drugs but not looking at the inside of a pumpkin. Or hearing a possible comparison to some kind of sexual act. No, Theo couldn’t gag at that. Now how would that look.

It was in Theo’s best interest to let the topic go. To act like he and Boris weren’t familiar with what they were dancing around. No, it was better to grab the knife and just keep cutting.

ii.

Boris's pumpkin, in all honesty, looked better than Theo's. It was carved blindly and with half-committed Russian words that half-complimented, half-insulted the face. The eyes were round and wonky, trying to have pupils, but the concept of not completing a cut in order to keep some of the piece hanging in the empty space eluded them both. By the end, the pumpkin had eyes that were wide-open and startled. Unblinking. Refusing to give them any privacy, it seemed.

Theo stood a step farther away from Boris as they admired their work, but he wasn’t sure why. It was just a pumpkin. It was just them.

“I’ll grab some candles when we go out-- we can light them when it gets darker.” Theo said.

“Going where?”

“To the supermarket. We have to get candy.”

“Oh. Okay.” Boris seemed to have an argument, or at least a question, but there was an unfamiliar timidness in his acceptance. He put his hands in his pockets, as if keeping his rebuttal to himself.

“Typically, you don’t get your own candy.” Theo reassured Boris’s presumed knowledge. “We just have no houses for trick-or-treating. So we’re improvising.”

“Plan to do what? Ask for candy at supermarket?”

“No.” Theo laughed. He quickly tried to disguise his mockery of Boris’s naive and honest question. It was finally something Boris had very few and far between ideas about; Theo had to remember these weren’t traditions to Boris, yet. They were still all first iterations, first experiences-- all with Theo. “We’re going to steal some candy. I’ll grab you some, you grab me some. Then we’ll trade whatever we don’t want.”

It wasn’t a gift or favor if it didn’t cost either of them anything. Then again, love never cost anyone anything--

"Trick-or-treat.” Boris repeated, the concept emerging from his own embodiment of the word. “That is-- knock, yes? And the-- word.. ack, what is word, Potter? Over body. Um... Dis-guys?”

“Costume.” Theo blinked and snapped back to Boris’s face. It was no longer soft or amused-- furrowed in his confusion. “You aren’t really hiding from anyone. You don’t need a disguise. Just a costume.”

“Oh. Okay.” Boris held his arms up, looking at his sweater sleeves. “What is costume?”

They didn’t really have the means to be much of anything except maybe different variations of the same hungry children, but Theo quickly tried to come up with something. Boris couldn’t just be the kid who couldn’t afford a costume. "You can be Dracula!” Theo motioned to Boris’s conveniently monochromatic outfit. “That’s perfect! You’re... brooding enough.”

“And teeth!” Boris bared his crooked teeth, nearly perfectly angled for fangs. Almost close enough to bite too--

“You’ll terrorized everyone at the store.”

“Yes, can do that. But who are you?” Boris asked, lifting a weak hand toward Theo. He was in his old, far-rattier, sweater and a pair of slacks from his previous school. “Cannot be scary, Potter.”

"Uh-- hey!” Theo said, pursing his lips. He quickly changed to clenching his jaw; Xandra always pursed her lips or popped her hip. Theo stopped doing both to look more physically upset with Boris.

“You look like... Liberian!”

“... A librarian?” Theo said slowly, trying not to laugh. “Well thanks. I guess, then I can just be... I don’t know. Van Helsing, maybe?” Then we’d match, and we’d belong together in public. “Oh, but then we’d match-- I don’t know if that’s--”

“A victim!” Boris cheered, throwing his arms up and charging at Theo.

For a moment, Theo allowed himself to laugh. He ducked his head to the side-- all but fucking giggling like some little girl-- and letting Boris drop his arms on top of his shoulders. His arms were long and there was still distance. It was strange-- and it was suspicious from the outside, sure-- but it was still safe.

In another moment, one coming way too quickly, Theo felt his stomach try to rise up to his throat. Boris’s one hand braced the side of his neck, while the other looped under his arm and gripped his shoulder. His grip pulled on his clothes, tight but not as frantic as it had been before-- just the night before. The collar of Theo’s sweater moved away, a stitch quietly popping under Boris’s fingers. It made space for Boris’s teeth-- lips-- trying to find their spot on the side of Theo’s neck.

“What the fuck, man. Get off of me!” Theo cried, shoving Boris’s back harshly. He stumbled back but his hands were still on Theo. And he still wanted them to be. “Don’t fucking touch me like that.”

Theo wasn’t sure if he’d intended to slap or punch Boris. Either way, his hand made sharp and heavy contact with Boris’s mouth, his head snapping to the side as he staggered back. Theo readjusted his sweater in the immediate aftermath, his hands trying to echo where Boris’s had been, if only to relish the contact for a moment of imagination.

Boris stood, hunched over, cupping his mouth. “Fucking got me, Potter.” His hand fell away and he was smiling. His lip had split and blood was pooling around the curves of his bottom lip. Boris’s fingers played with the large droplet of sticky crimson guilt. “Ha! Look! Blood, Potter!”

“I-- yeah.” Theo knew better than to say the other forbidden word: sorry.

“Vampire! AH!”

“Yeah. Full vampire.”

Theo wondered, selfishly and disgustingly, what Boris’s teeth would have felt like playfully puncturing his neck and not his knuckles. The forbidden chance had been dangled in front of Theo, temptation grabbing him with a tight grip, and he blew it. Curiosity would be the most promising nightmare.

“Let’s go get some candy, before all the good stuff is gone.”

iii.

Theo scoured the aisle for mixed bags of snappable candy. Boris didn’t like the candy with sticky, chewy, stringy insides. No caramel, nougat, or that chewy coconut shit either. He liked candy that snapped when he bit down. It was something stupid and primal, Theo was sure, but the short, staccato laugh Boris let out when the snack would snap between his front top and bottom teeth was unforgettable-- and that night, desired.

If Theo could get Boris to laugh, to find small, infantile joy eating stolen last minute, sale candy, he’d gotten everything he wanted.

There was a bag of Crunch bars, KitKats, 100 Grand bars, Twix, and Snickers sitting along the sparse bags of sugary, hard candy. Theo grabbed it and tucked it into the inside of his father’s borrow coat. It barely looked like Theo had taken anything-- in fact it made the waistline of the coat fit better. He still had some sleeves to fill.

Theo spotted Boris weaving around the seasonal endcap of the aisle, studying the ways all the familiar candy wrappers were now orange or covered in bats. He pretended to study the nutrition label on the back of a bag as a mother and child walked behind him. The child tried to point at Boris’s split and still-bleeding lip, but the mother paid no attention to Boris. Just like he had no intention of paying for that candy.

Theo left Boris to his operation and wandered down to the oral hygiene aisle. He strolled, with almost adult-like authority, along the rows of expensive electronic toothbrushes until he reached the plastic covered ones that hung on the wall like packaged pens. Theo grabbed a blue one-- with soft bristles, because someone had sensitive enamel from years of eating straight sugar and not gargling after vomiting-- and slipped it up his sleeve.

He sighed, pretending he hadn’t found what he was looking for, and started to head out toward the parking lot again to wait for Boris. Just as he tried to exit the aisle, a worker came around with an arm full of plastic pumpkin baskets. Theo skidded to a halt-- clutching his jacket and the candy-- in lightning fast response.

“Sorry.” Theo said, stepping aside quickly. The worker was frazzled, barely noticing that Theo had even stopped him. The baskets wobbled in his arms, their faces printed just off-center to the indentations of the “carved” features. They were ugly and obviously all defects. “Hey, can I have one of those?”

“What? They’re all going in the trash. They’re garbage and it’s literally Halloween.” The teenager spoke as if Theo had been born on a different planet, unaware of the time, day, and possibly the year.

“Yeah. I know. Then let me have one.” Theo thrust his hand out. “Fucking give me one. It’s important.”

“Okay, here you go. Asshole.” The worker handed it to Theo, but not before ripping the tag off the handle. “Go loiter somewhere else. We’re closing in a half hour, too. Is that your friend? The one who looks like a corpse.”

“He’s a vampire.”

“He looks like he’s fucking dead.” The man correctly, hitching his armful up. “And he’s been reading that bag label for five minutes. Is he simple or something?”

“English isn’t his second language, cut him some slack.” Theo scoffed. “Asshole.”

“Well, whatever he speaks, tell him we’re closing and to either buy the candy or leave.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Theo said, smiling. “I’ll be sure to do that.”‘

While the teenager turned away, Theo grabbed a tube of toothpaste, floss, and one of the travel head covers. He barely tried to hide them as he marched for the door.

There was something careful in how Boris was searching, Theo didn’t want to disturb him. Part of him said it was because he wanted to let Boris have his own shopping time uninterrupted or rushed. But the larger part of Theo was secretly pleased that he was choosing candy meant for him with such purpose and care. 

It meant nothing, probably, but Theo let it mean everything as he stood out at their meetup spot. As he waited, he practiced smiling without looking too happy.

iv.

“Here. For your candy.” Theo held the plastic pumpkin out to Boris. His hand felt like it wanted to be shaking, but it was too afraid to even do that.

Boris took it carefully, studying its off-brand features. “Is for my candy? That you give me?”

“Yeah! But, you’ve got to ask me for it first.” Theo said. He used his teeth to rip open the bag, tossing the end into the dumpster.

“Have candy, Potter?”

“No! Trick-or-Treat! You’ve got to ask-- just hold your basket out and ask ‘trick-or-treat’! And then I’ll say some super weird passively-adult thing about your costume and then give you your candy. Okay. Now go.”

Boris jerked his basket forward, teeth bared and dried blood now brown. “Trick! Or treat, Potter!”

“Oh wow! Look at your fangs... Not even fake.”

“Fuck off! Teeth are fine-- chew just fine.”

“You can’t tell a suburban mom to fuck off.” Theo laughed, tilting the bag into Boris’s basket. It overflowed and the stiff candy clattered on the asphalt. “They’ll call neighborhood watch on you.”

“Fuck if I care.” Boris held the basket to his chest, crossing his arms over it. He held delightful ownership over the new holiday clutch and seasonal candy. They’d created their own tradition, own triumphing memory, standing by the dumpster of Lucky’s. It wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t exactly the quintessential American Halloween, but it was one Boris could recount without sounding like he’d copied some made-for-tv movie; it was lop-sided and little fucked up-- just enough-- to truly be Boris’s first Halloween.

Actually, all the perfect Halloweens Theo had ever had seemed fruitless compared to watching Boris cradle his first trick-or-treated haul of candy. Getting things right the first time was stupidly overrated.

Theo felt the urge to jot that down. To remember to tell his mother-- next time he saw her-- how great Halloween had the potential to be if the mischief and wickedness were lent the chance to match costumes with joy and innocence.

v.

Boris accosted the entire living room floor as he dumped his basket out onto the carpet. He spread it out so no two pieces of candy were resting on top of each other. His hands ran over the crinkling wrappers, feeling the even square molds-- until he stopped and firmly gripped the toothbrush. He held it up to Theo with an accusatory look.

“Are trying to tell me something?” He asked.

“No, no. It’s not like that. Most of the time, there’s this family of doctors or something that always give out healthy food or non-candy for Halloween. I decided the family you ran into would’ve been a dentists. So I gave you a toothbrush.” Theo shrugged. “You wanted the full experience.”

Theo also wasn’t sure if Boris even had a toothbrush. He’d seen him with one, when they first met, bristles flattened and parted from over-extended use. He said nothing further-- not about the old toothbrush, or about how Boris placed it gingerly by his side just then, tucked just under his knee for safe keeping.

“Stupid dentists. Of all doctor career-- all part of body to think about, all day all the time-- who pick teeth? It is bone. Weird bone to talk with! Who want to see bone all day, and fix and grind and drill? Seem so stupid when think about it.” Boris exclaimed, still running his hands over the candy. “Will not go to dentist house again. Have learned lesson, Potter. Fuck the doctor houses.”

Theo laughed and moved closer to Boris-- just to be able to pour his own candy out for trading. “Okay, what do you want out of my pile-- I’ll take all your snickers.”

Theo’s bag was full of most of the same candy, but also small Hershey bars and Baby Ruths instead of 100 Grands. It was the principle of trading more than it was either of them getting more of what they wanted. Confectionery bargaining was a skill few had back in New York. Only Andy was ever really good at it.

“What is in Baby Ruth?” Boris asked, turning over some of Theo’s silver-wrapped pieces. “Is that woman?”

“Baseball player, actually. Like Babe Ruth.” Theo said, quickly pealing one of them open. “Here, try one. It’s mostly nougat I think.”

“Uck.” Boris muttered, still taking it. He popped the whole thing in his mouth, his cheek bulging as he tried to chew it quickly. It was too sticky, but Boris didn’t seem to mind. “Gross.”

“Careful. Your fangs.”

“Ah!” Boris bared his teeth again, holding his arms up as if he had a cape to shield him. “Will eat your blood!

“It’s uh,” Theo nearly gargled the word, struggling to say it cleanly. “it’s suck your blood, Boris.”

“Yes. That too.” He chopped his teeth loudly, the candy gone. Theo recoiled and clutched his own jaw. Boris did it twice more, breaking into a grin the more Theo looked disgusted. “Am bothering you! Halloween spirit, yes?”

“Sure. Something like that.” Theo picked up a Crunch bar and tossed it at Boris’s head. It caught momentarily in his matted curls before slipping through and onto his legs.

“Oh? Candy fight?” Boris grabbed a fistful of chocolates. His long fingers and tight grip snapped many of the bars in half, the sound heard underneath the crinkling plastic. “Tradition too?”

Theo paused, his arms no where near his face in defense. He grinned, only clenching his eyes closed. “Yeah. It’s definitely tradition. For us, at least.”

“Can be tradition that you lose?” Boris cackled, throwing both handfuls directly at Theo’s chest. “Do not think will change. Am always good shot, Potter.”

“Oh, fuck off. Arrogance is not about to become any part of this holiday, Boris. I swear to God--” Theo was pelted with every candy brand on the floor individually. Boris had a pile at his feet he tossed at him one by one, squirming backward slowly as Theo dodged them and shifted onto his knees.

“No! No! No! Cannot touch Dracula!” Boris cried, fully falling onto his back. He wiggled back and forth like a snake but gained no distance away from Theo.

There was something about a snake Theo read in a book once. Temptation, or something, right? Wasn’t that how the story went? That snake, that woman, and that apple-- but that one wasn’t candied.

Theo flopped down on Boris with all his weight, laughing at the loud oof! Boris wheezed out. His arms grabbed onto Theo’s back, but he didn’t push him away. Instead, his hands pressed Theo closer and rolled them over. The candy slid and squashed under them, like a really strange bed of orange and red foliage. With Theo on his back, Boris sat up with his legs on either side of Theo’s waist. Theo was pinned, eyes wide and mouth open, but not in any rejection. The temptation looked sweet.

“I bite!” Boris cried, placing his hands on Theo’s chest and shoulder. “Suck blood from you, Potter.”

And he did. He pushed Theo’s head to the side and playfully (and with surprising delicacy) bit down on the curve of his neck. It was weird, really really weird, but it was still touch. Undefinable touch, at that. It wasn’t anything romantic and definitely wasn’t anything sexual. It was just playing vampire. There were no rules or sermons against that. Theo allowed himself to laugh, shivering at the cold drag of Boris’s teeth across his skin.

It was so weird, but Theo felt so free. He’d never felt the touch of anyone be so warm and his entire world seem so far off. It wasn’t even tradition at that point; it was habit. Boris would always be the one that made Theo feel like every frayed nerve was neatly sewn back together. Like every moment was worth remembering and recording, all in the hopes of recreating it someday. Same crooked smiles, same laughter giggles, same mishaps, same boy. Always the same boy.

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 39

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 6. Go to previous. Go to next. Through the needle’s eye and right onto the hook.

____________________

As they took a steady clip Northbound on Route 3, the trees to either side of them shifted from predominantly pine to a mixture of rusty oak and maple. Very few vehicles scattered the street, allowing for a smooth, steady speed. ‘Choly smiled to himself at the thought of his Pip-Boy’s radio; at first, the signal was spotty at best, but he refined it to pull in a brassy, energetic instrumental broadcast. Once he got it steady, Angel seemed to sway along the lanes to the tune, and he nearly stopped worrying.

“Really, this is quite nice, isn’t it, Angel? The weather’s brisk, but the sun’s out. I’ve missed trips like this with you. I know it used to be by bus, but the wind feels therapeutic in a way. Just the two of us.”

“The scenery in the Commonwealth these days isn’t all bad.”

But he couldn’t wholly get his mind off their destination. He couldn’t even begin to speculate what to anticipate. After two centuries left to run without maintenance, there was no telling if the base’s robotics and defenses would even operate correctly, if even run at all. He didn’t like the odds that the Rust Devils had already taken the base and now occupied it. The whole trip to Lowell would be for nothing, if he couldn’t get on base, and they might as well double back to Billerica and take Bogey home to Sanctuary Hills right then.

They zipped under an overpass, and ‘Choly prayed they’d be able to speed right over the I-495 cloverleaf without having to take any of the access roads. Relief washed over him, that he didn’t have to deal with the Lowell Connector. The interstate signs had all either fallen or faded beyond legibility. He checked his map on his Pip-Boy, and looked back at the miles of crumbling asphalt still ahead of them. They’d just passed Route 129: just over halfway there from the golf course. He nodded thoughtfully, and slacked a bit in his scrutiny of the thoroughfare for a ways.

“Shall we take the Chelmsford South exit, or press on to the Chelmsford-Lowell intersection?”

“Taking I-495 would nearly triple our travel distance. We might have to, but let’s try sticking to Route 3 for now.”

“Noted.”

Ignoring the off ramp, they crossed over the 3-495 interchange. The well-rehearsed, unmarked exit for Chelmsford Road came up, and at a distance they could tell that the Route 3 overpass ahead had been extensively blockaded. Angel need not mention its concern as they got off the highway, as they both readily noted the high wood and steel wall which barricaded the Northeast half of the intersection. Several people stood watch atop the Red Rocket on the Southeast corner, and began to fire on the two of them as they slowed just enough to take the left turn under Route 3. ‘Choly looked back and his stomach lurched. Three bipedal robots sped toward them.

“All arms and legs in!” Angel yelled.

They barreled beneath the overpass, under which the raiders had constructed barricades and corrugated metal shanties. They didn’t slow enough to do more than draw fire. One of the mishmash robots slammed into the wall of one of the dwellings with a loud crash, only to keep running nearly unhindered. It wasn’t until ‘Choly looked back a second time to attempt aiming at their pursuants, that he recognized the very unmistakably human skulls mounted as face plates on these things. He fired at them, but his hands shook too badly, and he clutched tighter to Angel rather than try again.

“You can’t go any faster, can you!” ‘Choly pleaded.

“I’m going as fast as I can, Sir!”

Angel fired all three lasers at once at one of the robots, and it crumpled in a half-molten mess. The other two closed in on them.

The nearly humanoid proportions of the things, combined with the skull plates... These things had been Assaultrons. One of them steadied a limb toward them, for it to erupt flames. ‘Choly screamed when he could feel the heat nearly reach him. He looked behind him only long enough to confirm he wasn’t on fire, and resumed doing his best not to hyperventilate. Angel continued firing, but the remaining once-Assaultrons managed to dodge its aim. The other once-Assaultron fired with its ocular laser and connected with one of Angel’s ocular lenses.

They got about five hundred feet down the street before veering off it in favor of the bald expanse of field, and they followed the high barbwire hurricane fence at full speed. In no time, they approached the guard house at the front of the Deenwood Compound. Though unoccupied, the biometric scanner still swept over ‘Choly and Angel, and the boom barrier permitted them through. They looked back to find the two robots that had chased them had doubled back to return to their base.

‘Choly hoped that meant Deenwood wasn’t under Rust Devil occupation.

“Are you all right, Mister Carey?”

“I’ll be better once we’re inside...”

They slowed a bit, but remained vigilant, as they came up to the second checkpoint. To either side of the inner fence stood a pair of high turret towers. ‘Choly saw a Mister Gutsy coming to them. He holstered his pistol and dismounted with his cane in hand.

“This is a secure government facility!” the Gutsy announced in a strident scorn. “State your identity and intent, or we WILL fire on you!”

“Captain-- Captain Alan Carey.” ‘Choly gulped for air and did his best to stand up straight and salute the Gutsy. “Deenwood Pharm Corps. This is Angel, issued to me by the DIA.” Angel, too, stated its designation, which came in a string of numbers ‘Choly had never memorized in the first place.

The army green Handy eyed the two of them in silence for entirely too long.

“Intent!”

“I, ah! Yes. I was-- Reporting to active duty.”

“You are two hundred years LATE, Captain Carey. And not even close to wearing regulation uniform. Not to mention what you’ve allowed become of your Mister Handy compatriot.” The gate’s magnetic mechanisms deployed with a low hum, and the boom barriers lifted as before. ‘Choly sighed and re-mounted Angel, and the Gutsy led them inside the vast concrete facility proper. “Forgive my gruffness, Captain. It’s wonderful to have you back. General Francis will be elated to speak with you.”

“General--” ‘Choly’s face couldn’t help but screw up as they entered the Robotics wing. “General Francis?” He hadn’t expected nuclear survivors, and for Captain Francis to have lived long enough to start a line of descendants to inherit the base just about beat any unlikelihood he could have imagined possible.

Still, he’d been on premises a good fifteen minutes by that point, and within base walls five of it--and he hadn’t seen a single living thing, person or otherwise. A mixture of Mister Gutsies, Eyebots, and Protectrons moved about in his peripheral fringes, but none of them engaged the three of them as the Gutsy led the way. Maybe this General Francis was her Handy... or a Sentry she’d programmed... or...

They arrived at the Control Room of the Robotics wing, where a uniformed ghoul worked on a powered-down Eyebot on a workbench. The Gutsy approached.

“Captain Carey has arrived, ma’am. I’ve brought him to you for debriefing.”

Her half-shaven blonde head picked up to glare at ‘Choly as he dismounted again. He glared back, in shock. Keloid scars wired all over her body, and almost none of her nose or earlobes remained. Her voice was viscous and rasping, but still rang with command.

“Thank you, Green Seven. You may return to your normal duties.”

“Yes, ma’am!” It exited, leaving the three of them alone.

The two continued to stare at one another for some time before ‘Choly slowly walked up to her. He stuttered out broken, stupid laughter and collapsed to hugging her tight. He couldn’t help the tears when she hugged him back. After a solid minute, she shoved him back to get a good look at him up close.

“Forgive the exclamation, but how the FUCK are you standing here in front of me, Carey?”

“I could ask you the same question, General.” He removed his glasses and gave her a tired smile, and wiped his cheeks with his sleeve.

“Is that... a Vault Suit? Fuck.” She began to circle him. “What in God’s name happened to your Handy?”

“I happened to it. Repairs and upgrades were necessary to make the trip up from Concord. Is... is it all right for me to sit, ma’am?” She waved at the workbench stool, and he thanked her. He didn’t want to have to talk about Vault 111, but a brief explanation seemed like the only option. “It’s a Vault Suit, yes. They built a vault near where I moved after Anchorage. I’m the only one that survived what the vault did to its residents. Cryogenics. I think the equipment started failing after two hundred years, and the system tried to wake everyone up... but it was... just me--”

She leaned on the workbench beside him with a knowing frown.

“My heart goes out to you, having to live through that. I’ve heard some terrible things about the different experiments Vault-Tec ran on its residents. You don’t have to tell me anything further.”

“Thank you for not pressing me for details, ma’am. It’s only been a few months. It hasn’t been easy to adjust to... everything, honestly.”

“...What are you doing here?” She half-expected him to reciprocate her curiosity, but appreciated that he hadn’t.

“I had a feeling there was something unresolved here. Like there was a project we were supposed to start, except the bombs happened first.” He sniffed and put his glasses back on, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe anyone survived...”

Francis squinted at him, and leaned nearer.

“Forgive me for asking, but I’m worried. The cane, and... you were riding your Handy on the way in.”

“The circumstances that have made it possible for me to stand before you alive today also damaged me severely. Angel’s operating not just as my Handy, but as my wheelchair, ma’am.”

“--Oh, cut the appellations,” she dismissed, blowing the stress of the conversation away like smoke. “You’re acting like you’ve never met me before.”

“Sorry. Barring Angel, you’re the... second familiar face I’ve found since I woke up? I honestly was starting to get used to the idea that I outlived everyone.”

She softened.

“...I can relate to that. I was the only Pharm Corps staff on base to survive the radiation. The base was designed to withstand a nuclear blast. But we’re close enough to where the bomb hit New Hampshire that it might as well have been a direct hit. The base itself was unscathed, but the residential block got hammered. I... I don’t know if you’d call being ghoulified surviving.” She snorted a wheeze through her open nasal cavity and gave him a shit-eating grin. “Repairing that Eyebot can wait. You still lush as ever? ‘Cause damn if I couldn’t use a drink about now.”

He checked the time on his Pip-Boy, and mirrored her grin.

“Supposing it’s nine forty-seven somewhere.”

Go to Next »»»

[amollion]

Newcomers Pt6

“EAT IT!!!”

“NO”

“I SAID EAT IT!”

“GET OFF ME WOMAN!!” Hesky shouts throwing Karen off him and running out the door.

“YOU WILL ACCEPT MY VALENTINE LOVE!!!” she shouts chasing after him holding her home made chocolates above her head.

The two Humans screaming and running past Dr Loop's door was nothing out of the ordinary these days, he liked the Humans and found them fascinating and rather good company. That did not mean that he did not find them odd to the point of thinking they were all insane. Some were quiet and preferred to be alone and other were loud and found hurting themselves to be hilarious. Suddenly his door opened with another Human limping.

“What happened to you?” Dr Loop asks.

“Sergeant Stabby got me” he replies.

“Why do you keep it around and why the Admiral allows that thing to stay I'll never know”

“Don't talk ill of Sergeant Stabby, he is war hero you know”

“IT is a cleaning machine”

“Irrelevant he is a hero and deserves our respect”

“But-”

“SHHHHHH here he comes”

Sergeant Stabby made his way into the Dr's office and bumped into a few wall and furniture all the while the Human stood up and saluted it until it left.

“Tell me something um...” Dr Loop said

“Cho”

“Cho, tell me something Cho is it the norm for you race to be so....nuts?”

Cho smiled “You've never been to Terra have you?”

“No”

“Shame, because if you think we are crazy you'd love to see us on our home world”

Dr Loop just scoffed and went to look at Cho's foot. “The bleeding has already stopped”

“Well yeah he doesn't stab us deeply”

“But still  for wound like this to stop bleeding so soon”

“Yeah it's clotting? Wait...have you worked on Humans before”

“I have studied Human anatomy yes”

“But actually worked with one? In person before we got here?”

Dr Loop did not like his skills being questioned, his race the Seelom were a very proud race especially of their skills.

“It matters not, I know all the ins and outs of your kinds bodies, probably better than you and the rest of your backwards and primitive kind”

Cho raised an eyebrow “Give your arm for a sec” he asked.

“Why?”

“Just trust me”

Dr Loop gave him one of his right arms and Cho stuck out his tongue all the while looking at his face for a reaction but Dr Loop just looked confused and a little disgusted.

Cho licked his arm and a split second later Dr Loop was screaming as Cho's saliva burned through his skin.

Dr Loop fell tot he floor cradling his arm and after a few more seconds the burning stopped and Cho was on his feet.

“Guess you forgot our saliva is like acid to your kind” he said and left without helping him up.

The Benemar Chief of Admiral Polts fleet was back on Bento Prime, he had already been disgraced for not seeking justice after one of his clan leaders was killed by a Human female. And to let the Humans gain all the glory for the liberation of Remer making their kind out to be a joke.

“Cheif Goolack of the Benemar step forward!” called one of the High Chieftains and he stpped forward.

“You are a coward and weak, you let the murder of your own kind go unanswered and these Humans push you around like your are their slave, what say you in your defence”

Chief Goolack stood up straight, the chains around his wrists were heavy and those around his legs were heavier, his pig-like nose snorted and his tusks had been cut to show his disgrace.

“I am a Benemar and I fought for our people and uphold my laws and our laws say that the STRONG!!! rule. Well the Humans have shown their strength and I saw their might in battle against a foe who outnumbered them many times over and they came away from that battle covered in the blood of their enemies. They are the only race who has ever besieged our world and you judge me as a coward for respecting strength?”

“They are the ENEMY!!! they burned our breeding pens and they must be wiped out. They are gaining too much power, power they are taking from us”

The court cheered and banged their weapons which were a combination of ancient war axes and rifles against their armour.

“Let this cry go out across to the star to all Benemar, the Alliance high command has given us the location oft heir breeding ground, we march...TO WAR!!!!”

The Benemar all over the Alliance suddenly began disappearing from Alliance ships, when asked why they were going back to their home world they simply replied “The High Chief has risen the banner”

Many thought this was the Benemar about to begin an independent push into Gal territory but they did not deny or confirm this and the army on Bento Prime continued to grow, the Humans though did not trust the Benemar and kept their eye on them.

Life in Admiral Polts fleet went on a s usual, or as usual it could be with the Humans around and with the Benemar now gone their was no hostility in the air. The Humans did their best to include the other races in their odd practices such as celebrating the anniversary of ones birth. They even as far to inquire to the other races celebrations and traditions and asked to take part which made the others rather flattered. They ranged from celebrating the unification of the Fookkarl under one banner which the Humans described as one large orgy as there was a lot of kissing but the Humans obliged.

The fun did not stop there.

Depit, an Elong like Admiral Polt was travelling in the ship main elevator to the observatory when it stopped to let a number of other crew off but only person got on. It was a Human, female by the looks of her but her stomach was huge, maybe she had just eaten he thought to himself. The elevator stopped a few more times and before long it was only him and this Human who from her tag her name was Sergeant Cathy. He started to sweat, he saw what was left of the body of the Benemar that she had attacked.

She smiled at him and gave a nervous smile back but nothing was said between them, until the elevator suddenly and harshly stopped.

“Ahhh!” Cathy screamed at the sudden change of momentum.

“Are you okay?” he asked and she nodded. “Must be a power outage” he tired raising maintenance but go response, there was no power to the that call button either. Suddenly Cathy was breathing fast and hard.

“Umm, are you sure you're okay” he asked again but she shook her head and held her large stomach.

“The baby is coming” she panted.

“Baby? What baby?”

“I'm FUCKING PREGNANT YOU ASSHOLE!!! she screamed and he jumped.

“Oh? OH?!!! CRAP!”

Cathy sat down as her water broke and leaned back.

“What do I do!! HELP!” he shouted into the call button in some hope that someone would hear.

“What...what is your name?” she asked.

“Depit”

“Depit, come here I need you to help me” she said holding out her hand and he slowly came and she grabbed it.

“I don't know what to do” Depit said.

“Just hold my hand and squeeze when I squeeze!”

“What?”

“AHHHHHHH” Cathy screamed and squeezed Depits hand so hard she broke two of his fingers as he had tried to pull away when he heard the word squeeze.

“WHY YOU PULL AWAY!!!” she shouted at him.

“You'll break my hand if you squeeze it”

It then dawn on her that Humans were far stronger than Elong, so she pulled off her trousers and tore off a piece so she could bite down on it and screamed again.

“Why are you screaming what's happening I don't how to help” Depit said panicking.

“IM HAVING CONTRACTIONS YOU FUCKING IMBECILE!”

“WHAT ARE THOSE!!!!”

“MY BODY IS GETTING READY TO PUSH THE BABY OUT!”

“OF WHERE!!”

“WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK?!!!”

Another contraction came and she screamed so loud Depit had to cover his ears.

This went on for over and hour till finally Cathy stopped screaming as contractions suddenly stopped.

“Okay...okay” she said to herself with Depit fanning her with his wings.

“How long does this usually go on for?” he asked.

“My mother was in labour for 32 hours with me”

“32 HOURS!”

“Ah don't shout, I'm lucky the contractions have stopped”

“What happens next?”

Cathy looked at him “Next comes the pushing”

“Elong births are lot...faster than this”

“You're a bird race, you have it easy” she laughed. Then started panting. “Here it comes! Get between my legs!!”

Depit obeyed and cathy spread herself and Depit froze.

“What do I do?”

“Catch!”

“Catch?”

Cathy burst into laughter “I'm kidding, just guide it out”

Depit got ready and Cathy screamed again, this time louder and so much Depit thoughtt he walls were shaking.

“I can see the egg”

“IT'S NOT AN EGG IT'S A FUCKING HEAD!! WE DON'T LAY FUCKING EGGS!!!”

“WHAT!!! HOW THE...I'M SORRY...BY CREATION WHAT THE.....!” he screamed as the head appeared.

Cathy started breathing again and moved her hand to feel where the baby was “okay, one more” she positioned herself and Depit put his hands by the baby's head and Cathy pushed with every ounce of her remaining strength and it fell into Depits arms.

After the baby began crying he handed it to Cathy who wrapped it up in her jacket and cradled it.

“It's a boy” she said.

“No wonder your race is so tough, you endure coming into the world like that and are willingly go through it to bring one of your own into the world”

“And we do it over and over again, I'll be doing at least two more times I think” she laughed “What did you say your name was again?”

“Depit, my name is Depit”

Cathy smiled and looked down at her son “Do you mind if I call my son Depit?”

Depit's eyes nearly shot out of his head, for a child to bear ones name is a great honor among his people. “You would do me that honour?”

“Of course, you brought him into the world, well I did most of the work but still”

“Thankyou” he said smiling.

“Oh beware of the after birth”

“The what?” Depit said looking down just as it slumped down in front of him.

In the higher levels and completely unaware of the new addition to their family the Humans were having a friendly game of football with some of the Aliens when Captain Clerk called for a stop. Admiral Polt was with him and everyone could tell by their Captains face that something had happened.

“Men and woman of the 8th Human army” Clerk started “Approximately 16 hours ago the Benemar launched a full scale assault on Terra”

The air became heavy as if every Human and Alien had stopped breathing, no one spoke.

“The battle is still going on and all Human forces are being recalled to aid the defence force fighting there, our latest report says they have breached our outer defence net and are landing their troops. So get your stuff I want us ready to go yesterday!!”

The Humans didn't say anything and as a single mind dropped what they were doing and ran to their quarters and collected all their belongings and things they brought with them. The cargo hold that they had made their own was dismantled within 10 minutes, every Human was found and accounted for including Cathy and her new son Depit. Hesky was thrilled to see his son but annoyed that she named him something that reminded him of cesspit.

Within 2 hours the Humans were all loaded onto their own ships, they said a quick farewell to their Alien friends and set off for Terra.

The Benemar continued their assault, unaware that word had gotten out about their attack on Terra, unaware of the armada coming for them.