#Becca Warren & Randall Carpio

[justmoreocs-writing]

‘Hey arseholes! I know you’re out there. I can see your stupid spycam,’ Becca said, giving the little camera the finger. ‘If you don’t come get me the hell out of here, I’m going to call a lawyer… Somehow,’ she added the last in little more than a whisper. Niggling doubts were trying to break through her barrier of irritation. All she could remember was heading outside with Randall and that girl… Ruby? The next moment, nothing. And now she was stuck in some kind of cell with no idea what the hell -

The door was pulled open, and instantly Becca moved away from it. She widened her stance slightly, raised her fists. But the man who stood in the doorway looked unconcerned with her attempts at bravado.

‘You need to come with us,’ he said simply. He looked like a doctor, with his white coat and the almost placid expression on his face. But there was something underneath it all, something that Becca really didn’t like.

‘Why would I do that, Frankenstein?’ she spat, with far more confidence than she was feeling.

‘There seems to have been a mistake,’ the man said, sounding a little guilty. Becca, however, wasn’t buying it. ‘If you’d come with us we’ll collect your friend and the two of you can leave.’

Hope blossomed inside Becca’s chest despite her best efforts to keep it at bay. She took a step forwards, allowed herself to focus on the prickle of unease that ran down her spine. After all, what choice did she really have? If she made a break for it something bad might just happen to Randall. Not that he couldn’t look after himself.

With a sigh, Becca stepped towards the doorway. She felt boxed in as the doctor and his companions shifted aside for her. As they seemed to rally around her.

‘Why’d you kidnap us anyway?’ Becca asked, needing to say something, hating the silence. She had to admit, it was a terrible thing to say given the circumstances though.

The doctor chuckled amicably. ‘It was a misunderstanding,’ he noted, before motioning her towards a door. ‘If you’d like to wait -’

‘Where’s Randall?’

‘Inside,’ the doctor said.

In one swift motion the door was opened. Someone grabbed the back of Becca’s collar and hurled her in. She stumbled, tried to turn around, but already the door was closed behind her.

‘Becca?’ Randall’s voice was tentative, but in an instant she was facing him. He looked tired, as if he didn’t quite trust his eyes to prove she was there.

She stepped forwards, but that’s when she caught sight of the bodies littering the floor. ‘What did they do?’ she asked in barely more than a terrified whisper.

Randall closed the distance between them in an instant. He wrapped his arms protectively around her, as if he could shield her from the very situation itself. ‘We’re gonna get out of here,’ he promised.

Becca pushed away from him ever so slightly, forced herself to look him in the eyes, not at the room around them. ‘Of course we are,’ she said, trying not to let her voice shake.

The door was opened again, but this time something resembling a berserker rushed in. In an instant, Randall had pushed her aside, was battling the monster. But it just kept coming. Kept trying to get around him.

Becca forced herself to watch, forced herself to be prepared if Randall needed help. Her stomach churned, her heart thundered, and yet still she watched. Still she made sure Randall wasn’t doing this alone.

It was over quickly, the berserker on the floor and Randall panting. Blood thundered in Becca’s ears, prevented her from hearing anything else as Randall pulled her in for another hug, as he started gently stroking her hair.

But the motion stilled after a moment. She felt the tension in his body as he pulled away. She followed his line of sight, spotted Ruby who looked terrified. Becca couldn’t help wondering what she’d missed, but she caught the odd word as if it were coming through a haze.

Ruby was the reason they were there.

It only took a moment for Randall to change. One moment he was there, the next it was his wolf. This time, Becca couldn’t watch. She collapsed, buried her head between her bent knees as she hugged them close to her chest. She tried to cover her ears, but there was no blocking it out.

Then, she felt the warm breath of something. Her head jerked up. Her eyes met those of a monster.

‘You don’t want to do this,’ she said, hearing the waver to her voice, surprised that she’d even been able to get one word out, let alone an entire sentence. ‘I swear to God, Randall, you do this and I’m haunting you for eternity.’

She could have sworn the wolf scoffed. A moment later it was changing in front of her, shifting back to Randall. She could see the hurt on his face, the toll all of this was taking on him. He fell in front of her and pulled her in for a tight hug.

‘It’s going to be OK,’ he said, and she wasn’t sure if he was trying to assure her or himself, but right then it didn’t matter. She wound her arms around him and pulled him closer.

‘Another weird way of seeing you naked,’ she joked, but the humour felt hollow.

He nuzzled his head against her shoulder, an assurance that she didn’t need to try and joke this time, that this time it was OK to let the moment crash over her.

And that’s exactly what she did; the tears came before she could stop them.

[raging-violets]

Happy Belated Birthday, @foxesandmagic

🐺

Randall Carpio and Becca Warren | The Order

Rebecca ‘Becca’ Warren went off to college with her best friend in the hopes that they might be able to have another adventure together, but she wasn’t expecting him to get caught up in the world of magic groups and werewolves, without a supernatural ability of her own in sight.

[justmoreocs-writing]

Becca knew she was rambling, knew that every tiny little fact she’d picked up about her latest obsession was coming pouring out of her mouth, and yet she couldn’t stop it. Learning that Jack was a werewolf, that there was magic in the world and he was now tasked with trying to prevent bad magic from destroying everything, had been like a springboard. She’d spent all of the previous evening researching. The sun had slowly been rising by the time she finally looked up from her laptop. There had been a note from her dorm mate on the table saying goodbye as she’d gone for her daily morning run, and a reminder that sleep was important.

Becca had disregarded that little reminder, screwed the note up and chucked it in the bin. She’d grabbed a coffee on her way to Jack’s dorm in the hopes of catching him. Instead, she’d pretty much physically bumped into Randall.

‘Did you know silver bullets is a myth?’ she asked, looking towards him and half expecting to see the usual glazed look of a person who was listening but not really hearing what she was saying. Instead, however, she could practically see the cogs whirling in his head, as if he were trying to keep up with everything she’d said.

It took a moment, but then he began to nod slowly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. ‘Just like any other bullet,’ he assured her.

Becca’s brow pinched. ‘Do you know that from experience or –?’

‘Pre-med, Rebecca,’ he said, with false formality.

She nudged his shoulder gently as they walked, a little glad that she’d caught him instead of Jack. He had enough on his plate as it was without all this, and he’d already spent years listening to her. Part of her thought he deserved something of a reprieve – even if only for a couple of hours.

 Stumbling into the darkened room, Becca’s heart thundered against her ribs. This whole thing was shambles. The only thing stopping her from kicking up a fuss, from running at the first sign of a door, was the fact she had no idea where Randall was; what they might be doing to him. Part of her thought she was simply being dramatic, that too many comics and movies was making her think the worst. But then if this year had already taught her anything, it was that all those adventures, all those horrors she had thought were confined in the world of fiction, could really happen.

Being knocked out, waking up in what looked like a medical facility and having some really cagey people answer her questions? It was all enough to fill her heart with dread.

She rounded on the door as soon as she had her footing and pounded her fist against it. ‘Oi, dickheads!’ she yelled, trying to make herself heard above the wailing of the siren in the room.

‘Becca?’ Randall’s voice was soft, a hint of disbelief colouring the very edges of her name.

She turned to face him, but out the corner of her eyes she saw the bodies. They littered the floor, held her gaze without trying.

Randall’s hands cupped her cheeks, forced her face upwards so that her eyes were on him and not the massacre around them. ‘Hey, look at me, not them.’

‘What happened?’ she asked, voice little more than a whisper.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he said, moving his hands to her shoulders, his grip firm. He was trying to ground them both. ‘We’re going to get out of here, OK?’

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak just yet. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his middle, nuzzled her head against his chest. He was there. He was alive, and for the moment that was the thing she would hold on to.

 Even as she was talking, Becca could feel Randall’s eyes on her. She knew he had no idea what she was saying, the rapid fire Spanish was nothing he could keep up with, but still he seemed to be paying attention.

‘Randall?’ she asked, moving her mobile away from her mouth and subconsciously putting a hand over the microphone.

With a little start, Randall moved his cheek from the perch of his fist.

‘You don’t have to just sit there you know,’ she assured him, a small smile curling her lips. She knew he was worried, that after everything that had happened he wanted to make sure she was OK, but this was getting slightly ridiculous. All of the Knights were concerned. She was used to Jack, used to the mollycoddling she got from him at times, but four of them was excessive. And none of them showed it in the same way; there was no blanket way of getting them to back off, to stop them looking at her as though she might just shatter. ‘You can just go to sleep.’

‘And miss you talking about that old cinema that you went to explore?’

Becca opened her mouth, closed it again, and then furrowed her brow. ‘Wait, you understood that?’

Randall’s grin grew. ‘Abby might’ve been teaching me little bits,’ he admitted with a dismissive wave of the hand.

Becca scoffed. ‘You got Abby to teach you?’ she asked, unable to hide her disbelief.

‘The Internet wasn’t too great,’ he said, but Becca moved to kiss him gently on the temple before finally replying to the rapid questions of her cousin down the phone.

 ‘Are you serious?’ Becca asked, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice. After everything that had happened, the question had taken her off-guard, had startled her before she’d even really had a moment to process it. But, with the question posed now sinking in, with the nervous little grin on Randall’s face, she sobered up quickly. ‘You are, aren’t you?’

Randall nodded, his grip on her hands tightening just a little. For once, she could see an ounce of uncertainty behind his eyes. Then again, laughter probably wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. It wasn’t really an answer at all.

‘These past few months have been great,’ he admitted, voice soft, eyes skimming her face, searching for the answer she herself thought was obvious. Still, for once she bit her tongue, decided that he needed to get the words out before she interrupted him. ‘I just… I thought we could make it official.’

Becca shifted forwards and placed a kiss on his lips, her hands still caught in his. As soon as their lips touched, he released her and his hands settled on her hips. Rising to the balls of her feet, she draped her arms over his shoulders, caught the hair at the nape of his neck in her fingers as he deepened the kiss.

After a moment, he pulled away, the tips of their noses still touching. ‘Is that a yes?’

Another small scoff escaped Becca’s lips before she could stifle it, but this time she saw no doubt behind his eyes. ‘Yes, Randall, I’ll go out with you,’ she breathed.

Randall closed the distance between them this time, and Becca felt a bright grin growing on her face; one she knew he was mirroring.

 ‘So, what’d you think?’ Becca asked, swaying slightly so she could feel how the dress moved, how light the material felt.

Randall’s attention moved over her slowly, taking in the whole effect. She watched him, watched the smile growing on his lips. When his eyes met hers, the brightness behind them made her stomach knot. Months of dating and she still felt as though she were falling in love with him for the first time all over again.

‘Becca, you look beautiful,’ he assured her.

She grinned, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear as she surveyed him. ‘Shame the same can’t be said about you.’

He scoffed in disbelief. The smirk on his lips was all she needed to see though. She lifted up the bottom of the dress and ran in the opposite direction, laughing the whole time.

 ‘No,’ Becca snapped, defiance raging war against outrage.

Randall opened his mouth but quickly closed it again. His jaw tightened, his attention shifted to a spot over her shoulder rather than at her face. She could practically see him counting to ten, see him trying to keep Greybeard under control because of his own racing emotions.

‘Becca,’ he said, voice measured and yet she could still hear the strain behind it. ‘You’re human.’

‘Well noticed,’ she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Randall’s attention snapped to her in an instant. He was fighting his own battle, more than just against his Hide. She could see the emotions flickering behind his brown eyes; saw the protective fighting with the pride, the human butting heads against the wolf. Still, her resolve was firm.

‘I’m not going to sit in the house and wait to see who comes back,’ she went on, knowing she had to push her advantage. ‘Checking the lockers?’ She shook her head, felt the tears prickling up her throat. It had been too close with Jack last time, she wasn’t sure she could go through something like that again. ‘I can help.’

Randall stepped forwards, an attempt to close the gap between them, but Becca had been expecting it. Been expecting his attempts to ground them both with hands on her shoulders. She stepped backwards.

Pain flashed behind his eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by understanding. Acceptance of the chasm that had formed between them on this decision.

He lifted his chin, not quite a nod but a tick of his when he was struggling for control. ‘I don’t want to see you get hurt, Becca,’ he said, voice softer than she’d been expecting.

‘I’m not made of paper, Randall,’ she assured him, lowering her own voice, fighting for control of her own emotions. All the wolves, including Jack, seemed to think she’d break at the slightest thing. They tried to keep her at arm’s length when it came to Knight business, but the boundaries were blurred so much she wasn’t sure where the line was anymore between the normal and the secret. Belgrave was so wrapped up in magic, it still baffled her that other people weren’t picking up on it more often, that their attempts to protect her were futile.

He heaved a sigh. ‘I know,’ he admitted.

‘I can help.’ Becca rolled her shoulders, straightened her back in the hopes that he might just be able to see her resolve if words weren’t enough to make him realise she wasn’t wavering on this decision.

‘You’re going to do it whatever we say, aren’t you?’

She scoffed quietly. ‘Finally getting it.’

Randall groaned before turning his back on her. ‘Come on then. But stay close unless –’

‘Unless Greybeard makes an appearance, got it,’ she said, hurrying after him. She could still see the tense line of his shoulders, knew that he was begrudgingly caving to this. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, so low that anyone else wouldn’t have heard it. But she saw the flicker of a smile on his lips, knew that he’d heard and appreciated it somewhat. She just hoped nothing would happen to make him regret it.

[justmoreocs-writing]

Randall ran his hands through his hair as he paced. His breathing was ragged after coming so close to transforming and forcing himself not to do it; after so many fights. The only thing stopping him from tearing at the walls was the thought of what these people might do to Becca. No one had said anything about her, about where she was or what they were doing to her, but the lingering threat of the unknown was a heavy weight on his shoulders. She wasn’t a Knight, she wasn’t even in The Order. She was just Becca; powerful in her own way but not in the way that mattered at a time like this.

Still, he couldn’t be cooped up in here and do nothing.

‘Hey assholes!’ he yelled, glancing around the ceiling, certain they were watching him somehow, monitoring his progress with their little challenges. ‘I know you can hear me. Let her go. You’ve got me. Let her go, and I’ll do whatever you say.’ The words “I promise” coated his tongue like peanut butter. He would say them if he thought it would work; if he thought they might actually be honoured. But doubt niggled at the back of his mind.

The door creaked open. Someone stumbled in, rounded on the door. But Randall would recognise her anywhere.

‘Becca?’ he asked tentatively, earning her surprised attention.

She stepped towards him, but her eyes went to the floor, went to check where she was stepping in the low light. He saw her eyes widen as she realised what was there. ‘What did they do?’ she asked in barely more than a terrified whisper.

Randall closed the distance between them in an instant. He wrapped his arms protectively around her, held her head close to his chest. He just wanted to protect her from all the horrors, but how could he? Some of those horrors came with everything in his life, in Jack’s and Hamish’s and Lilith’s. ‘We’re going to get out of here,’ he vowed.

Becca forced herself away from him, her hands against his chest to give herself the leverage. It took all his willpower not to pull her close again, for his sake as much as her own. But her eyes met his, never once straying to the bodies that littered the floor. ‘Of course we are,’ she said, conviction strong behind her voice.

He opened his mouth, desperate to find the words to reassure them both, but the door opened. He pulled her behind him as another berserker rushed into the room.

‘Don’t watch,’ he said as he locked into battle with the thing, desperate not to transform. He knew that she’d seen it before, seen what they were capable of because Jack hadn’t been able to hide any of it, but still he didn’t want her to see this. There was no noble reason behind this slaughter; no attempt to prevent dark magic from causing harm. This was self-preservation.

It was over quickly, and in an instant he turned to face her. Becca’s eyes were open, shining with fear. But somehow he knew it wasn’t fear of him, of what he was capable of. It was of the thing now on the floor; of the people who were putting them through this ordeal.

He crossed the floor in a few steps and pulled her in for another hug; gently started stroking her hair.

The door opened again. Every muscle in him tensed as he spotted Ruby coming into the room. She looked terrified, he could smell it on her as well. Becca pulled away, but the blood was thrumming in his ears. Even as Ruby tried to explain, even as she spoke and Randall felt his concern for her shift into something different. Something darker and less easily ignored.

The blood thundered and there was nothing he could do to control it.

She was the reason that they were there. The reason Becca had had to deal with whatever it was she’d been put through – because there was no doubt in his mind that there had been something.

‘Don’t watch. Close your eyes and don’t open them,’ he murmured, not sure if Becca heard him before he changed.

It was over in a matter of seconds. All the anger, the fear, every single negative emotion that he’d felt at the whole situation came out in that moment as Greybeard took over.

‘Ran… Randall?’

The voice was soft. Randall roared with frustration as he turned. Becca stood in front of him. Her chest heaving but she was standing there, her gaze levelled on him. He could smell her fear, smell the adrenaline as well.

The slight floral scent of her perfume.

‘You can stop now,’ she said, voice barely more than a whisper as he padded towards her.

Greybeard’s anger was still close to the surface, seeking some kind of escape. But not against Becca. She had nothing to do with this.

‘I swear to God, Randall, you do this and I’m haunting you for eternity.’

The scoff bubbled up as Randall shifted back. He felt weary to his very core, but Becca was there. The relief behind her eyes made guilt niggle at the back of his mind. He pulled her in for a tight hug, felt her arms wind around him in an instant.

‘It’s going to be OK,’ he said, though it felt like a lie.

‘Another weird way of seeing you naked,’ she joked, but the humour fell far shorter than normal.

He nuzzled his face against the crook of her neck, trying to reassure her that she didn’t have to joke her way out of this. It was OK to allow the moment to crash over her.

He’d barely stopped the motion when she moved; her head nuzzled against his chest. He felt the warmth of her tears as they came, and he fisted his hands in the back of her shirt.

‘Why’d you jump in like that?’ he asked in little more than a whisper, her hair tickling his lips. ‘Why didn’t you move?’

‘Because you’re Randall Carpio,’ she said, voice thick with tears. ‘Not whatever these dicks are trying to get you to be.’

Randall allowed a small chuckle to escape him before he placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Whatever happened, he was going to make sure she got out of there in one piece.

 Becca tossed and turned. Randall was up in an instant, his heart thundering against his chest. He could smell the fear on her. His hand went to her shoulder and he shook it, his brows knitted with concern.

‘Becca, easy,’ he said as she continued to thrash, even as she straightened. Her eyes were blurry with sleep as she looked desperately around the room. He used his free hand to flick the light on. ‘Calm down, calm down, you were just dreaming.’ He put both hands on her shoulders, an attempt to ground her in the reality of the bedroom rather than the horrors that had trapped her in sleep.

Her attention skimmed the room; her chest heaved and for a moment he worried she was still stuck there. Still lost in a nightmare that he couldn’t protect her from.

But then, her eyes focused on him and her hands went tentatively to his cheeks. ‘Randall?’

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet.

She heaved a deep sigh and moved to cuddle against him, but Randall remained with his hands on her shoulders, keeping her away for the moment. ‘Are you afraid of me?’ The question was one that had niggled away at him since that day. One that he’d always been worried to voice because what if she was? Too scared to tell him she wanted nothing to do with him anymore?

Becca gave a physical start; let out a soft scoff. ‘Why would I be afraid of you?’

Randall raised a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘I’m a werewolf, Becca. You saw –’

Her hand on his cheek, a gentle caress, stopped his words in an instant. It burnt through his concerns. ‘I saw what Greybeard can do, and yeah that’s kind of scary,’ she admitted, her eyes locked on his. ‘But do you know what else I saw? You, in control, knowing when to stop.’

He took a shaky breath and moved to kiss her palm.

A sad smile slipped onto her face. She closed her eyes. ‘That doesn’t mean I don’t still see them. Don’t still remember what that room looked like, the fear of not knowing what they were doing to you.’

When she opened her eyes, Randall could see the tears glistening there, could see that the nightmares weren’t something she was only having at night. She was remembering that day almost as vividly as he was while awake.

Randall pulled her to him, held her close and vowed that nothing like that was going to happen to them again. He’d make sure of it, however he had to.

[justmoreocs-writing]

Rebecca ‘Becca’ Warren and Randall Carpio (The Order); both of them probably do this, but Becca the most simply because she’s always on the move.

Annabeth ‘Annie’ St. Claire and Malcolm Bright (Prodigal Son); it’s usually Annie who starts this, but sometimes Malcolm does when he’s nervous.

[justmoreocs-writing]

‘Homemade,’ Randall said, jumping over the back of the sofa and landing easily beside Becca. She shifted out of his way just in time, but not quickly enough to doge falling pieces of popcorn.

She scoffed, shook her head as he offered the bowl out to her. ‘You put a packet in the microwave.’

Randall shrugged. ‘Made at home,’ he insisted, before taking a piece and throwing it into the air. He managed to catch it in his mouth and grinned at her with a triumphant look on his face.

It was impossible for Becca to smother her grin, so instead she reached for the remotes, put the bowl on the coffee table. This movie night had been Randall’s idea, an attempt to celebrate her finishing her essay. The others, she knew, hadn’t been invited. Randall had said they were all simply busy, but Jack was a terrible liar when it came to her. She’d seen the hesitation, the moment he tried to come up with something when she’d asked what was more important than a movie night with friends. She and Randall were still dancing around the uncertainty, around feelings they were both terrified might change things between the two of them. Change them in a way they couldn’t properly repair.

‘So if you put cream on a cake…’

‘Homemade cake,’ Randall said sagely as she sat back. She rested her back against the arm of the sofa and surveyed him. Even in the low light, with the curtains drawn and the dim illumination of the screen, his eyes seemed to sparkle. ‘You’re getting it.’

‘You’re incorrigible,’ she chuckled softly, before clicking a button on the remote and shifting to face the screen properly. ‘And just for that, I get to pick the first film.’

‘Not fair!’ pouted Randall, but Becca was already looking at the screen, knowing exactly which movie she was going to put on.

Her attention distracted, she didn’t notice Randall had moved until she felt his hand on her shoulder, his arm draped around her back. The shock of the movement caused her to stiffen, but it didn’t discourage Randall.

‘Are you going to pick a scary movie?’ he asked, voice soft and breath warm on her cheek.

She scoffed, settling into the feeling of his arm around her, into the closeness of him and the comfort that seemed to come from it. ‘What, so I have to hide behind the big bad werewolf?’ she asked, voice just as low as his. She turned to face him, and found that their faces were very close together.

He moved away from her so he could show off his muscles, posing like some sort of Greek heroic statue.

Becca gently pushed his chest, causing him to fall away dramatically. ‘Very scary,’ she teased.

‘I was thinking you could protect me,’ he teased, moving back beside her and grabbing a handful of popcorn.

Becca smiled at him coyly before hitting play.

Randall’s attention shifted instantly to the screen. ‘What film is it?’

Becca smirked before resting her head on his shoulder and getting comfortable; she felt herself relaxing a little as he moved his arm back around her. ‘You seriously need a crash course in DC versus Marvel, so this is your first foray into all of that. Part two of the Nolanverse but possibly one of the best Batman movies there is.’

She felt rather than heard Randall’s chuckle; felt his thumb gently rubbing her shoulder. Perhaps they should take that terrifying leap of faith instead of dancing around it, but right now wasn’t the time for thoughts like that. Right now, it was about the moment and the movie, and making sure he understood the difference between the comicverses she and Hamish found themselves constantly referencing.

[justmoreocs-writing]

Becca’s attention remained resolutely on Hamish. It didn’t waver to the knife he was holding, nor did it stray to Randall who was casually perching on a table nearby. The pub itself was oddly quiet, not that it bothered her. There’d be plenty of time to show off her bravery, to prove you didn’t have to be a Knight to do all the things the others did. She was just as good as they were, even if she didn’t have a magical alarm system to warn her when something bad was going to happen.

‘Three,’ Randall practically sang, and Becca felt a smirk flicker on the corner of her lips. Still, she refused to look towards him.

‘Two,’ said Hamish, and she could see the smile on his face. For once there was no look of concern, no fear that she might just shatter. It was refreshing to say the least.

‘One,’ she said evenly.

Hamish pulled his arm back. She knew what was going to come next, and yet there was no fear. No part of her even contemplated moving out of the way. Hamish had taken a dart to the eye without so much as batting an eyelid. She could do the same with the knife. It was going to be fine.

‘What the fuck?!’

Jack’s voice broke the moment. Hamish’s aim faltered. The knife sailed through the air and buried itself deep in the wooden beam beside Becca. Her brow furrowed as she flicked the hilt.

‘Jacky, what’d you do that for?’ she complained, turning her attention towards him. Randall was booing him, full on thumbs down and everything.

‘What’re you thinking?’ Jack asked, hurrying over to her. He cupped her cheeks, glanced over her as if checking that she hadn’t been injured.

Becca batted his hands away irritably. ‘Jeeze, when did you decide to actually step up to being big brother?’

Hamish and Randall scoffed.

Something shifted behind Jack’s eyes as he took a step away from her. ‘He got to you,’ he said, taking a step away from her. His whole demeanour seemed to have collapsed in on itself.

Becca beamed. ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ she asked, moving to put her hands on his shoulders. ‘Seriously, no fear, Jack. We could do anything.’

Jack opened his mouth, probably to counter her argument with something boring, something that proved his own fear was getting in the way of him having a good time, but the sound of a blender, of a weak noise of pain, drew all attention towards the back of the pub.

Randall scoffed; Becca felt him leaning his arms across her back, his chin resting just beside her cheek. ‘Why didn’t we think of that?’

‘There’s still time,’ she said, already wondering what else they should try. She just hoped Jack wouldn’t stand in her way of living.

[justmoreocs-writing]

‘You mean Jack Morton’s number one but most terrible babysitter?’ he asked, the amusement obvious behind his voice. The small, affectionate smile ghosting his lips really said it all though. ‘Honestly, to begin with I thought she’d just had too much coffee. Turns out she’s always like that, which is kinda cute and hilarious.’

[justmoreocs-writing]

Becca stretched out on the sofa, raised her arms high above her head in the hopes of cracking her back, in making herself a little more comfortable. After three hours of slogging over her essay, she was finally done. Finally, the hours of research, of scribbling notes only to type them up and delete everything, felt worth it. She hadn’t noticed when the sun had finally set, too focused on the task at hand – when she’d managed to force her attention onto it, at least. But now, she blinked as if she might be able to make some kind of sense of the lost hours.

‘Welcome back.’ Randall’s voice pulled her attention towards the bar. He was leaning on it, his attention on her and a small smirk on his lips.

Becca dropped her arms. ‘How long’ve you been there?’

He blinked at her for a moment before swiping two drinks off the bar and moving to sit on the armchair beside her. ‘You said hello to me,’ he told her, offering her out one of them.

‘Did I?’ she asked, furrowing her brow as she took the drink, as she took a refreshing sip of it. ‘Is there alcohol in this?’

Randall shook his head, drained half his own drink in one go. ‘Not yet.’

‘Good, Hamish’d probably kill you,’ she teased, before taking another sip. She relaxed a little against the corner of the sofa. ‘You still didn’t answer my question.’

A small smirk danced on his lips. ‘About an hour,’ he admitted.

Becca raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Are you keeping an eye on me?’ she asked, suddenly wondering if that was why he’d been there and not broken her stride. Usually, Jack forced her to take a moment – unless she’d had trouble focusing beforehand, then he’d leave her until it was necessary – but not Randall. Randall didn’t understand any of that just yet. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, putting his glass down and raising his hands in surrender. ‘And no, I’m not keeping an eye on you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You’ve been quiet.’

Becca let out a soft sigh. ‘Focused,’ she admitted. ‘Had to keep it up before I lost it.’

Randall hummed a kind of understanding, but she wondered how much he actually knew.

‘Anyway,’ she said, taking another sip of drink and moving forwards, trying to force herself back into the real world, away from the closed focus of the essay itself, ‘what’s new?’

Randall’s smile forced a smile onto her own face. She was glad that he was there, and she really hoped they’d be able to have more moments like this, more time where they just got to relax. More time where they got to be young adults without worrying about what threats might be looming over their heads sooner rather than later.

[justmoreocs-writing]

Becca was nervous. It didn’t matter that she knew Randall, that he was constantly making her laugh and accepted her random hugs with a casual ease that had most strangers thinking they’d known each other for years. It didn’t matter that they’d had dinner together a couple of times before, because this time it was different. There was no pretence, no dancing around what they both really wanted. This was an actual proper date and Rebecca Warren was scared.

Dates had never been her thing in high school, something Jack gently teased her about despite being as much as a novice at it all as she was. Now, she was slowly beginning to worry that perhaps she should have just dated for the sake of it, for the experience. Her mother had never questioned her lack of dates, and it had never bothered her at the time. But now, faced with her very first date, she was beginning to wonder if she hadn’t missed out on something. What if -?

‘Woah,’ said Randall, instantly snapping her from her thoughts and bringing her to the actual situation at hand.

Becca turned to face him and realised he was staring. A small smile curled his lips; his eyes were lit with an ever familiar cheer. There wasn’t even the barest trace of disappointment about him, something that was beginning to be a niggling concern at the back of her mind.

‘I don’t think I’ve seen you in a skirt before,’ he noted, meeting her eyes steadily. He swallowed, his throat bobbed. ‘It looks nice.’

‘Thanks,’ murmured Becca, flattening the material down absently. She’d relented and let Abby and Alyssa help pick the outfit. Only now, faced with Randall, did she regret that decision. Was it too dressy? ‘Bit difficult to wear a skirt with everything. Not the most practical.’

Randall scoffed before stepping forwards and offering out his arm for her. ‘Shall we?’

For a moment, Becca wondered if this was the right thing to do. What if this ruined things? What if they suddenly realised they were only even friends because of everything with Jack?

But, the warm smile on Randall’s face instantly put her at ease. She let out a tense breath before looping her arm through his and grinning at him.

‘I think we shall,’ she said, giggling slightly as they headed towards the restaurant. A leap of faith, that’s what she decided this was, what she was trying to focus on. And it was one she really hoped she wouldn’t regret.

[justmoreocs-writing]

If there was one thing Becca knew it was Jack Morton. The two of them had grown up together; born just three days apart and coming home to houses right next door didn’t necessarily mean they were going to even know each other, let alone get along, but for them it had worked out exactly like that. There were still some who believed they were twins, and the two of them never truly argued the point. Even their teachers rarely seemed to speak to one without the other.

It was for those reasons that Becca knew something was wrong. Barely a few hours on campus and already Jack was different. He was trying to hide something, Becca just had to work out what.

‘Hey! Hey! Oi, Jack Morton’s other babysitter!’

The guy turned around at last, an eyebrow quirked ever so slightly as he quickly found her amongst the thinning crowd.

‘Other babysitter?’ he asked, amusement ringing true behind his voice.

Becca didn’t pick up the pace, merely kept walking and offered him a slight shrug. ‘I’m obviously babysitter number one.’

‘Obviously,’ the guy agreed. Becca couldn’t quite remember his name. She thought it began with R. Not that it really mattered, she wasn’t planning on addressing him by name for this.

‘Know where he is?’

‘Not such a great babysitter, huh?’

Becca arched an irritable eyebrow at him.

‘Tried the bar?’

‘Yes. And the library, the canteen, his room and lecture theatre. The only place I haven’t checked is Narnia because I thought I’d ask you first.’ She shook her head, started chewing on the chain of her necklace. She knew full well Jack could look after himself, yet there was something niggling at the back of her mind: concern.

‘Come on,’ said the RA, and it was only then, oddly, Becca remembered his name: Randall. ‘Let’s go find the lost puppy.’

Becca scoffed, gently tugged the chain away from her lips, let it fall back against her collar. She just hoped this wasn’t the beginning of the end for her and Jack. She wasn’t entirely sure she could do all this, so far from home and familiarity, without him.

She gave herself a little shake, refusing to think on that yet, and nodded for Randall to lead the way.