#Did you have Gerard swinging a shirt over his head like the good old days on your BINGO card? :)

[iero]

src. 

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Little Man

A/N: I kinda just got this random idea and went with it. Hope you guys like it! Pairing: Gerard x F!Reader (Single mom) Word count: 3,159 Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating and dramatic break ups.

Gerard was the perfect boyfriend, there was no doubt about it.

After the two of you had gone out together four times, you finally admitted that you had a four year old son. While guys you had previously gone out with had thrown themselves in other directions, leaving you behind to get out of the situation of being a father figure, Gerard took that with a kind smile and a simple “Alright”.

And to make it even better, Beau thought Gerard was the coolest person ever. From his occupation as the lead singer in a rock band, to the way he dressed, to his interests, Beau was fascinated, and immediately wanted to be just liked Gerard.

And you let him. Gerard got the little guy his first pair of black converse and leather jacket, and you eventually redid his whole closet to be jeans and cool little super hero and band t-shirts. The only thing that was off limits were piercings and dying hair.

You stood in the mirror, Beau on his stepping stool as you brushed out his hair, “But mama,” He complained, “Gerard doesn’t brush his hair.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“And you’re not Gerard.” You told him.

“But I wanna be!” “I know buddy.” You knelt down next to him, “But there are some basic things we have to do like brush your hair, okay? That way you look nice.” “But Gerard looks nice.” “I never said he didn’t,” You retorted, “But this is all mama asks, okay?” He reluctantly nodded. You two both heard the door open, Beau running out of the bathroom and down the hall.

“Gerard!” You could hear him yell, you trailing slowly behind him. Turning the corner you saw your boyfriend pick up Beau, swinging him around in the air once before placing him on his hip.

“Hey little man,” He smiled, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” He admitted.

“Nothing?” Gerard questioned, “I thought your mom always had you doing something.” “Only sometimes,” He responded.

“Hey,” Gerard looked to you, walking over and giving you a peck on the lips.

“Hey,” You said back, smiling, “Now you two have fun, just be back by eight.” “Of course,” Gerard said, “Ready bud?” He asked Beau, who was still on his hip. The young boy nodded.

“Bye mama!” He said.

“Bye, baby.” You gave him a quick kiss on the head. “You have fun. And be nice and polite.” “I will!” He said, Gerard flashing you a quick smile before departing out the door.

Beau had begged for months to be able to go with Gerard to the studio and help them with their new album. Despite Gee insisting that he and the guys were more than happy to have him, you were worried about how much of a disturbance he would be. While you loved Beau, the little guy liked to talk. A lot.

But at least this gave you an opportunity to get some additional work done, and some down time. Your job as an editor for a publishing house meant lots of reading and note taking, not that you minded, it was your passion. But it was tiring.

Hours went by, sitting on the couch with you computer, red wine, and sweatpants. You heard the door open, looking up to see Gerard walk in again, this time Beau on his chest, his head in his neck asleep. You lightly smiled, Gerard smiling back. “Hey,” You whispered, getting up and closing your laptop, walking over to where the two of them were, Gerard carefully taking his shoes off with his feet to not wake Beau up.

“Hey,” He whispered back, kissing you.

“Want me to get him to bed?” You asked and he shook his head.

“I got him.” He responded, moving slightly past you and into his bedroom. There, he quickly tucked the boy in, despite his jeans and shirt being on, as you both knew he would at one point or another wake up briefly in the upcoming hours.

“How did it go?” You asked Gerard as he walked back out from Beau’s room, sitting on the couch next to you.

“Incredible,” He smiled, “All the guys loved him, Ray taught him a few chords on guitar, he actually wrote a lyric, and he got to sing.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” You asked, “How’s his ability to sing?” “Better than any four year old I’ve heard.” You lightly laughed.

“Thank you.” You said lightly, caressing his cheek. Gerard leaned in and gave you another kiss.

“It’s the least I could do.” He replied. You smiled even more, making him smile more, and leading very quickly into a couch make out session, which only lasted a few minutes before your phone began to ring.

“Hello?” You answered, sitting back on the couch as Gerard placed his hand on your thigh.

“Y/N, hey it’s Calem.” “What do you need?” You asked harshly, Gerard giving you a quizzical look at your sudden change in tone.

“Wow, not even a hello?” Your ex joked over the phone.

“If you don’t tell me what you need in the next 10 seconds I’m going to hang up and block your ass.” “Fine,” He reluctantly sighed, “I’m in New York for the next few days. I was wondering if I could come see Beau tomorrow, take him out for the day.” You sighed.

“Fine,” You said, “Be here at 9, have him back by 5.” “Of course.” He replied and you hung up.

“Who was that?” Gee asked, still looking confused.

“Calem.” You sighed, throwing your phone on the coffee table and taking your head in your hands, sighing heavily. “He’s in town, wants to see Beau tomorrow.”

“So you said yes?” You nodded.

“I mean, he’s his biological dad, I wasn’t gonna say no.” He nodded.

“Mama?” You heard a small voice from around the kitchen.

“Yeah, baby, what’s up?” You asked Beau, who stood in the hallway rubbing his eyes.

“How long have I been ‘sleep?” He asked.

“Only about an hour love.” You admitted as he gave out a loud yawn. “It’s probably about time you get back to it.” You got up, walking over and picking the small boy up. “Will Gerard sleep over?” He asked you, looking back at Gerard.

“I don’t know, lovely.” You admitted. “I can if you want.” You heard him say behind you, Beau nodding his head and then placing it on your shoulder.

“Yes please.” He said, you began brushing his hair with your fingers.

“Mkay bud, let’s get you to bed.” You said, taking him into his room, helping him get into pajamas and then into bed.

You gave him a kiss on the head, tucking him in and turning off his lights before walking a short way down the hall of your apartment into your room where Gerard was putting a shirt on for bed. “Hey,” He said lightly, seeing you walk in a shut the door. He could tell you were in a mood.

So he let you go and take your time in the shower, slowly changing before treading your way into your bed next to him. “How’re you feeling?” He asked, “And be honest.”

“Anxious,” You said, “Really anxious.”

“Wanna talk about it? It may make you feel better?” You nodded, curling up into his side as he placed his arm around you, squeezing into you, playing with wet strands of your hair.

For almost an hour you told Gerard everything, head placed in his lap as he listened. “It’s just so frustrating.” You finished off, he lightly nodded his head.

“It’s okay, babe.” He said lightly, “Everything will go fine tomorrow. And if it doesn’t, I’ll beat the shit out of him.” You chuckled.

“Thanks, Gee.” You said, leaning up and giving him a kiss. The two of you later drifted off to sleep.

You woke up, Gerard still sleeping next to you, so you slowly rose out of bed and into the sunlight directing into from the floor to ceiling windows and into the room. Your bare feet pattered lightly on the hardwood floors and into the bathroom where you began to get ready.

“Morning, honey.” You heard Gerard’s morning voice ring as he walked in to the bathroom, hugging you from behind and placing his head in the crook in your neck.

“Morning, Gee.” You lightly laughed, brushing your teeth and using one of your hands to brush his messy hair with your fingers.

“You’re so beautiful.” He muttered into your shoulder making a light pink blush grow on your cheeks.

“Thanks.” You said, leaning back into him.

“Should I go wake him up?” Gerard asked next, making eye contact with you in the mirror. You nodded.

“Probably.” He let go of you, trudging his way out of your bathroom to Beau’s room. A few minutes later you heard the small boys laughter, Gerard and he walking in. Beau was comfortably seated on the older man’s shoulders, hanging on as he ran around with him.

He sat him down gently on the floor, letting him hop off and run to you, “Good morning baby.” You smiled, ruffling his hair a bit. “Morning Mama.” He lightly laughed, clinging onto your leg. You picked him up, placing him on your hip and taking him to his room giving Gerard time to get ready.

“Gotta get dresses babes,” You said, “You’re seeing daddy today.” He looked up at you.

“Daddy?” You nodded. “Okay.” He said in a monotone voice.

You got him dressed in a pair of black jeans, a t-shirt, and of course his leather jacket which he insisted he had to have. “Ready bubs?” You asked and he nodded, “Alright, he’ll be here in 10.”

The two of you walked out into the kitchen, where Gerard was already dressed with his coffee, yours sitting at the island. “Hey little man.” Gerard said, giving Beau a quick high five as he walked by.

“Gerard?” He asked him, Gee’s attention going completely to the boy. “When will I get to go back and help you make music?” Gerard smiled.

“Whenever you want, dude.” He said. Beau smiled.

“Okay, good.” You lightly laughed under your breath at his response. Then you heard a knock at the door. The three of you stopped, Beau going to the door before you two, Gerard taking a brief moment to give a light squeeze to your arm for reassurance.

“You know mama’s phone number if you need anything, right?” You asked Beau and he nodded, “And Gerard’s?” He nodded again.

You headed to the door, opening it. There was your ex, standing at the other side, giving a very tight smile if one when you opened the door. “Hey Calum.” You said, Beau next to you.

“Hey,” He responded, “Ready bud?” He asked Beau who nodded, walking out to be next to his dad. Gerard emerged from behind you.

“Bye Mama, bye Gerard.” Beau said and both of you waved.

“Still playing with toys I see?” Calum asked, glancing between you and Gerard.

“Gerard is not a toy,” You stated clearly, “And I never have. Unlike someone who think it’s okay to with a pregnant fiance.” You flashed him a petty smile. He looked slightly shocked, gulping. “Alright, bud, we should probably get going.” He said, the two of them walking down your apartment buildings hall and to the elevator, you shutting the door behind you.

“Was that too harsh?” You turned to Gerard who was still behind you.

“Eh,” He said, sipping his coffee, “He’s a dick, so no.” You lightly smiled. “Come here.” He told you, stretching his arms out. You graciously caved into him, wrapping your arms around him as he did yours. “Everything’ll be alright honey.” He kissed the top of your head, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“I hope so, Gee.” You said, holding onto him tighter.

The two of you spent the day overall working and picking up around the apartment. It wasn’t the most enjoyable task in the world, but it needed to get done.

Finally, the two of you plopped yourselves on the couch, sighing out in relief of the jobs being done. You were still tense, thinking about Beau and what could be going on, ‘Everything’s fine’ you tried to reassure yourself.

“Babe,” Gerard spoke up, “Are you alright?” You nodded.

“Yeah, totally.” “Be honest with me,” He said, “I’m not dumb.”

“I’m just really worried about Beau.” He nodded, letting you lean yourself onto him as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“It’s okay, love.” He said, “Just relax, okay? If worst comes to worst if something does happen we’ll deal with it when he gets back, okay?” You nodded into his chest. “Hey, look at me,” He said, placing his fingers on your chin and moving your head up to look at him in the eyes, “We both love Beau, if anything happens we will deal with it. Okay?” You nodded, leaning in to give him a kiss, which quickly led to a make out session, which quickly led to bedroom activities.

“What time is it?” You asked, still out of breath and next to Gerard. He looked over, his now sweaty black hair moving with him.

“4:30.” He responded.

“Shit.” You sat up, using the duvet to cover yourself, “We need to shower before Beau gets back.” “We could shower together.” Gerard smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“I would love to, but we gotta be fast. And if we go in together it will not be short.” “Fine.” He sighed. You got up, quickly getting to the bathroom to shower, which only took ten minutes thankfully, and change back into your regular clothes from earlier, making the bed while Gerard took his own.

You brushed out your wet hair, putting it into a ponytail hopefully making it less noticeable that you had just showered. The two of you walked out into the living room, sitting on the couch and watching some random TV show awaiting the arrival of your son. So when the doorbell rang, you both sprang up, practically running to the door.

You opened it, your ex and son standing there. “Alright, bye bud.” He told Beau, who seemed to reluctantly give his dad a hug, saying bye back and walking in. It could have just been your motherly instincts, but you knew something was off.

“Bye Calum.” You told him, giving a tight smile and him giving one back before you shut the door. “Hey Bub,” You squatted down to talk to Beau, his small head facing down. “How was it?” “Okay.” He said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“Just okay?” You asked and he nodded. “Alright baby, why don’t you go put your stuff in your room?” You suggested, he nodded and walked off. “Something’s wrong.” You immediately turned to Gerard, mid-panic.

“Hey, hey, hey,” He said, trying to calm you down, “We’ll figure this out, okay? Just like we said.” You nodded frantically.

“I- I’m gonna go talk to him.” Gerard nodded in agreement, staying in the living room so you could discuss with your son. “Hey babes,” You walked in, lightly knocking. Beau was at his tiny desk drawing something, so you walked over. “So,” You sat on his bed, “How did it go with daddy?” “Eh,” You shrugged, not looking away from his drawing.

“What do you mean eh?” You asked.

“Not good.” He admitted, getting up and placing his work with some others he had in a small pile in the corner of his room.

“What happened?” You asked. He stopped looking to you as you saw tears fill his eyes. “Hey, hey baby.” You got up, squatting down and caressing his cheeks, wiping away any and all fallen tears. “What happened, bubs?” “Daddy said,” He began, stumbling on his words, “That Gerard was bad.” “He said Gerard was bad?” You asked, he nodded.

“I-I was telling him how c-cool G-Geard was, and h-he di-didn’t like it.” This time he tried to wipe away his own tears. “I-I told him I-I wanted G-Gerad to a-adopt me.” “Adopt you?” You asked, partially stunned. “Do you even know what that means.” “G-Gerad would become my d-dad.” You sighed, looking to the floor then back up at him.

“Do you really want that?” You asked next and he nodded. “Okay bud.” You kissed the top of his head, giving him a hug, “Why don’t you nap, okay? Then we can have dinner after.” He nodded, rubbing his eyes. You got him tucked in his bed, in some sleep clothes, and placed his favorite stuffed dog in bed with him. “I love you so much.” You said, lightly smiling and playing his his small strands of hair.

“I love you to, Mama.” He replied, “I wanna say I love you to Gerard too.” You lightly chuckled.

“Alright, I’ll send him in.” You got up, leaving out and turning out the light, going to get Gerard. “Hey,” You said lightly when you got to the living room, “Beau wants to say something to you.” “Oh, okay.” He perked up, getting up and walking down the hall to the young boy’s room. You sat on the couch, head in your hands, trying to contemplate what was going on. You weren’t sure what hurt you more: What Calum had said about Gerard, or Beau’s reaction to it.

“Hey,” Gerard walked out and lightly smiled, sitting next to you, “What happened.” “Too much.” You sighed, leaning back, “Apparently, Calum told Beau that you’re ‘bad’.” You shook your head.

“That I’m bad?” Gerard looked confused, you nodded.

“And Beau’s super upset.” He huffed.

“Damn fucker I-” “Hey, hey,” You said grabbing Gerard’s arm, “Let’s think about all of this first.” You told him, making eye contact, “I think there’s something else you should know.” He nodded, letting you know to go on, “Beau, he-” You paused, “He wants you to adopt him.” Gerard’s eyes went wide in shock.

“Like, legally?” You nodded.

“I think.”

“I um-”

“I know, if we were to even consider that it would be years out. But I just wanted to let you know.” He nodded.

“You know that makes this all the more harder?” He told you.

“I know, but we gotta stay strong through this mild drama for Beau.” “For Beau.” He concluded.

You two were in the kitchen cooking dinner when you heard small footsteps. “Hey little man.” Gerard greeted a tired Beau, walking in with his PJs and rubbing his eyes.

“Hi Gerard.” He said, yawning. Gerard naturally picked him up, placing him on his hip.

“How was your nap, man?” He asked, moving some of his droopy hair out of his face.

“Good.” He replied, leaning into the man, “Hey Gerard?” He said.

“Hm?” He replied, looking down at the boy.

“I love you.” “I love you too, little dude.”

[robinrunsfiction]

Swing Life Away

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: Teen Requested By: None Word Count: ~7,000 Author’s Note: This story is about about what can happen between two people whose lives aren’t turning out exactly how they planned and what happens when they turn to each other.  Inspired originally by the song “Hold On To Me” by Mayday Parade, there is a full playlist here of songs that inspired this story. TWs for mentions of substance abuse and depression. Post Bullets-era AU.

Gerard sighed as he pulled up in front of the convenience store. His well worn hoodie didn’t provide much relief against the New Jersey autumn air as he hurried inside. After checking the amount of cash he had in his pocket, he got a small coffee and headed to the counter. He rocked on his heels as he waited for the person being helped ahead of him to finish. Finally it was his turn.

“Anything else?” The girl behind the counter asked as she punched his coffee into the register, then she looked up. “Oh hey Gerard.”

Hearing her say his name, he looked up as well. “Oh, hey (YN), it’s been a while,” he smiled a little awkwardly.  “Umm, can I get a pack of cigarettes?”

“Yea, sure. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen any fliers for a My Chem show recently, are you guys not playing right now?”

Gerard’s eyes widened for a moment and his mouth went dry. He didn’t think he would be having this conversation today, but (YN) had been coming out to My Chem shows since the beginning and he knew she was a genuinely nice person who deserved to hear the truth. “Umm, I broke it up.”

(YN)’s jaw dropped and she started to blush. “Shit, I’m sorry, I hadn't heard, otherwise I wouldn’t have brought it up,” she replied, nervously tucking at her hair.

“It’s ok,” he shrugged, trying not to let on that he was still disappointed about the whole situation. “Ray and Frank already found other bands to play with and I got a job at the comic book store so I’m back to something else I enjoy, so it’s ok really.”

“What about Mikey?”

Gerard rubbed at the back of his neck. “That’s why I broke it up. He, umm, he's got some problems. He’s in rehab,” Gerard mumbled the last part, barely audible to (YN).

“Fuck,” she breathed, looking down at the counter in front of her.

“Yea, our parents blamed me for the whole thing and kicked me out. I’ve been couch surfing for a while, or just staying in my car,” Gerard nodded toward his beat up old car parked out front. “Sorry, I just kinda dumped that all on you.”

“No, I asked, and I understand. Shit, I’m really sorry about all that,” (YN) said as she took Gerard’s money for his purchase. “Hey, please don’t be afraid to say no because this is a crazy idea I just had, but my roommate moved in with her boyfriend because she got knocked up, and I’ve been looking for someone to split the rent with. If you’re looking for a place,” (YN) trailed off with a shrug.

“Really?” Gerard asked, eyebrows raised. He was surprised at the offer. None of his friends that he had been crashing with had offered to let him stay more than a couple days at a time.

“Yea, I mean, why not?” She shrugged. “Wanna come over and check it out tonight?”

“Sure, that sounds good, what time?”

“I get off at 6, so like 6:30?”

“Yea, I can do that,” he smiled and (YN) felt like a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Cool, here’s the address and my phone number for whatever,” she said as she scrawled the information on the back of his receipt.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said with a wave after pocketing the cigarettes. For once in a long time, Gerard finally had some hope that things were about to turn around.

~

When (YN)’s shift was over at 6, she rushed home to quickly straighten up before Gerard arrived. She desperately needed a roommate or she’d have to break her lease and be in the same situation Gerard currently found himself in, but she didn’t want to let any stranger move in. At least she knew Gerard a bit; he was always nice and fun to be around when they hung out after shows, plus he had a regular job, which was good enough for her. 

Shortly after 6:30 the doorbell rang and she rushed to answer it. “Hey Gerard, come on in.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, almost a little nervously. 

(YN) gave him the tour through the small house, showing him the open bedroom across the hall from her own, the kitchen, and bathroom. “As you can see, I don’t really have a lot of furniture,” she said when they got back to the empty living room. “My roommate had all that unfortunately, so I just kinda hang out in my room. I don’t have any weird rules or anything, and the neighborhood is safe, sooo yea. Rent would be $600 a month each plus utilities, if you’re interested after all that.”

Gerard looked around again. “Yea, I mean this would be great.”

(YN) let out a sigh of relief she didn’t realize she was holding. “Oh that’s awesome, thank you. I really didn’t wanna lose this place.”

“Oh yea, I understand,” he smiled his lopsided smile. “How soon can I move in?”

“Whenever you want. My old roommate had paid through the end of this month, so we’re ok there. I’ll let the landlord know and do the paperwork stuff.”

“Do you mind if I stay tonight? ‘Cause I don’t have,” he trailed off.

(YN) felt absolutely gutted when she realized he meant he'd be spending the night in his car, as temperatures dropped near freezing. “Oh, shit, yea, I can help carry stuff in if you want,” (YN) said quickly, grabbing her coat from the closet and following him out to his car.

Gerard didn’t have much with him, a few changes of clothes, a blanket, pillow, and a backpack full of cds and comics. He insisted that he was fine to sleep on the floor, but (YN) still gave him an extra pillow and a couple of blankets to make himself a bit more comfortable.

"Thanks again (YN) for letting me move in here and everything," Gerard said as (YN) turned to go. "I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate it."

"I think it's gonna work out well for both of us," she smiled as she closed the door behind her.

~

Gerard retrieved the rest of his belongings that weekend and got everything moved into his room. (YN) tried to give him space while he got settled, but eventually they started talking a bit more, getting to know each other as they got used to being around each other.

A few weeks later, (YN) was sitting on the counter next to the microwave when Gerard arrived home from work, the smell of fresh popcorn greeting him. “Hey, what are you doing tonight?” (YN) asked as Gerard walked into the kitchen.

“Umm, nothing, why?” Gerard asked.

“I was getting ready to watch a movie, if you wanna hang out.”

“Yea, sure,” he nodded. “What were you thinking?”

“I dunno, any of the classics that are easy to watch, like Star Wars or Back to the Future,” she shrugged.

Gerard’s eyes lit up. “I was thinking about Empire Strikes Back earlier today.”

“Well let’s watch that one then,” she nodded, hopping off the counter as the microwave beeped.

Gerard went back to his room and dropped his backpack on the bed. He opened it up and examined the bottle of alcohol he had purchased after work. He wasn’t sure why he did it, he had told Mikey that he’d get sober too, but he had been feeling so depressed lately, he thought it might help to take the edge off.

Instead, he stashed it under his desk and changed out of his work clothes and into some pajama pants and a comfortable t-shirt so he could relax. When he walked into (YN)’s room, he was reminded of the lack of places to sit other than with her on her bed. “I’ll go get my desk chair,” he said, turning to leave.

“Oh grow up, you can sit on my bed with me,” she laughed, patting the spot next to her.

“I didn’t wanna assume,” he said rolling his eyes as he sat down, the popcorn bowl between them. Gerard finally had a chance to really look around her room, and the first thing he noticed next to the modest tv was a bookshelf filled with movies. "Woah, I never noticed your movie collection before, how'd you get so many?"

"My cousin worked for Blockbuster up until a couple years ago. She got all those at a discount and when she moved to Chicago she decided she didn't want them anymore and gave them to me."

"That's cool," Gerard replied, continuing to look around. Against the amethyst walls white Christmas lights were hung, bathing the room in a warm glow. Taped to her wall above her bed were dozens of photos, that appeared to be mainly of friends, parties, concerts, and pink roses. "You have a lot of friends."

"I don't talk to most of them any more," she said, glancing up. "They all moved on with their lives and I stayed here."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Gerard replied. He had been one of those people, he had moved on with his life, until it got out of control and now he was here as well.

(YN) shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder if maybe I should try to move on too,” she said with a nod to the photos. “Stop living in the past or whatever. Anyway, what’s it like working at the comic book store?”

Gerard shrugged. “It’s pretty good. On slow days I can just read comics for my whole shift, and the people that come in are pretty cool to talk to.”

“Do you miss music?”

Gerard looked thoughtful for a moment. “Some days. But as long as I’m doing something I enjoy, I’m happy.”

(YN) glanced over at him and smiled. “That’s good.”

Later that night (YN) had gotten up to go to the bathroom when she noticed a sliver of light coming from Gerard's doorway. When she peeked in, she saw him at his desk, working intently.

“What are you working on?” Gerard heard (YN) ask from the doorway.

“Oh umm, just this comic idea I’ve been working on,” he replied. When he looked back at her, he spotted his clock, reading that it was nearly 4 AM. “It’s so late, did I wake you up?”

“No, I just got up to go to the bathroom and I saw your light on,” she said padding quietly into the room. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” he said, turning the paper toward her.

“That’s really really good. What’s it about?”

“They’re like an adopted family of superheroes. They all have different powers and their father is trying to train them to save the world,” he said looking up at her. To his surprise, she seemed to be genuinely interested.

“You’re really talented."

"It's not that great," he shrugged.

“Pfft, are you kidding? That girl is so pretty, and there aren’t even words yet and I can tell this guy is super mad at this other aloof guy.”

Gerard looked back up at her in awe. “I’ve been struggling all night because I didn’t think it conveyed that clearly enough.”

“Nah, it’s great, you’re doing great,” she replied. “Are you just doing it for fun, or are you gonna try to get it printed?”

“I’d love to get a comic printed, but I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Like I said, you’re really talented, I bet you could make it happen. I’ll even buy a copy and tell people that you were my roommate when you were working on it.”

Gerard laughed lightly. “I’ll dedicate it to you.”

“I can’t wait. G’night Gerard,” (YN) said before retreating back to her room.

~

It was a bitterly cold winter day when (YN) returned home from work to find another car in front of the house. When she came in, she heard another voice she thought she recognized.

“Hey (YN),” Gerard called as she walked into her room.

“Yea?” She called back, dropping her things.

“Mikey’s here.”

“Oh! Hey Mikey, how’s everything going?” (YN) asked, as she walked into Gerard’s room and found his brother sitting on the bed. 

“Good,” he nodded.

She nodded as well. “I'll get out of your hair, sorry to interrupt,” (YN) waved as she ducked back into her room. Gerard had been talking about how well Mikey had been doing since finishing his program, but as far as she was aware, this was the first they had seen each other since he had completed it.

A while later she was in the kitchen getting dinner when Gerard walked Mikey to the door,  exchanging a hug before he left. After the door was closed, Gerard let out a sigh.

“Mikey looked like he’s doing good,” (YN) said as Gerard trudged into the kitchen.

“Yea,” he replied, but the tone of his voice wasn’t happy. “But he doesn’t think he can stay clean here so he’s moving.”

“Really? Where?”

“California. We got some family out there that will keep him straightened out, and keep him away from the people who got him messed up in the first place, like me.”

"Did he say you specifically?"

"No, but-"

“Gerard,” (YN) interrupted sternly. “Just because you started the band doesn’t mean you’re to blame for what he chose to do.”

“I shoulda been looking out for him more. I was such a drunk shtihead I didn’t even know what was happening,” he said running his hands through his hair.

(YN) stepped forward grabbing his arms and pulling them down. “Gerard! I have spent months now listening to you talk about Mikey. You guys both learned some lessons the hard way, but he wouldn’t have kept calling you while he was in rehab and come to visit today if he blamed you. He could have cut you off, moved to California without a word, but he didn’t. That means something, right?”

Gerard looked like he was on the verge of tears but he nodded.

“You guys are both gonna be alright,” she said, letting go of his arms, and wrapping him in a hug.“Sorry, “ just felt like,” she said trailing off with a shake of her head when she pulled back.

“It’s fine, I needed that,” he smiled. “All of it, thank you.”

~

It didn’t seem like enough time had passed when in the late spring (YN) checked the mail and found a letter from their landlord with the paperwork to renew their lease. She sighed nervously as she made her way to Gerard’s room. Now it wasn't just that she didn’t want to have to find a new place to live, it was the fact that she liked living with Gerard. She liked hanging out with him and she had come to care for him as a real friend. She also recently realized that she had at some point developed more feelings for him, but she pushed those aside.

“Hey Gee?” She said knocking on his door.

“Yea?” She heard him call from the other side before she opened the door.

“We got the lease renewal paperwork today. Did you wanna extend the lease for a full year?”

“Yea, sure. I like it here,” Gerard replied with a smile.

(YN) let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I’m really glad to hear that. I’ll leave this with you, just bring it back when you get it signed at all the flagged spots.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded as he flipped through the packet.

A while later (YN) looked up from the magazine she was reading when Gerard knocked on her door. “I got the lease thing signed,” he said, walking in and handing her the paperwork.

“Cool, I’ll drop this off tomorrow,” she nodded. “I’m really glad this has worked out.”

“Me too,” Gerard said. “Umm, I never mentioned it before, but I had been living in my car for a couple weeks when you offered me this place.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad,” (YN) murmured.

“I was in a really low place, like I was almost at my breaking point ya know, but umm, when I say this turned everything around for me, I mean it. I was able to pick up more shifts at work and I could afford to go back to my therapist and get on my meds again. So thanks for saving my life,” he said with a nod before turning to leave.

“Gee wait,” she said getting up.

“Yea?”

“I… I don’t know what to say except I’m really glad that you’re here and you matter a lot to me, and,” she shrugged as her words failed her. She just wanted Gerard to know how important he was, not just as someone to share rent with, but as well as all the complicated feelings she kept bottled up inside.

Gerard stepped back across the room and wrapped his arms around her. They stood silently hugging for a while before he pulled back. “Hang on.” (YN) nodded as he hurried over to his room and then came back with a bottle of liquor. “Here, you can have it, or get rid of it, it doesn’t matter to me. I bought it months ago because… it doesn’t matter, but that night you invited me to hang out and that meant a lot. I started working on my comic again that night too.”

“I remember that,” she smiled, as she took the bottle from him. “You’re gonna do big things Gee. I’m glad I can cheer you on.”

~

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come along?” (YN) asked from the doorway of his room. She was heading out to a party with her friend, but to Gerard, she already seemed a little unsteady on her feet. 

“No thanks, I gotta work in the morning,” he replied. Just then, a car horn went off outside the house.

“That’s Eli. I’ll try to be quiet coming in,” (YN) waved before hurrying out to her waiting friend.

Gerard got so wrapped up in the page of his comic he was working on he completely lost track of time until his phone went off. "Hello?" Gerard answered his phone.

"Heeey, is this Gerard? (YN)'s roommate?" He heard a female voice slur from the other end.

"Yea, why?" He asked, panic striking through him. He glanced at his clock, it wasn't that late, why was someone calling him about (YN).

"Can you come get (YN)? She's like super drunk and I'm gonna go back to this guy's place but I don't wanna leave her here alone."

"Wait, is this Eli?"

"Yea, can you hurry up before she barfs or something, I can't deal with that."

"Yea, yea, text me the address, I'm on my way," Gerard replied, already slipping on his sneakers.

A while later Gerard was pulling up in front of the house where the party was happening. As he got out of his car, he saw (YN) sitting on the front lawn with a girl he'd never met before, he presumed it was Eli.

"Hey (YN), are you ok?" He asked as he approached. He could tell (YN) had been crying, despite how dark it was.

"Yea," she sniffled and got up unsteadily.

"I'll call you tomorrow, ok sweetie?" Eli said, already heading toward a guy who had been waiting in the distance.

(YN) waved her off as Gerard helped her to the car. Other than the radio playing an old Radiohead song, there was nothing but silence in the car.

"I've never seen you this drunk," Gerard suddenly blurted out. "Are you ok?"

(YN) sniffled again. "I haven't really eaten in a few days and then Eli wanted to do shots when we got to the party and now I'm stupid and wasted," she whined.

Gerard pulled up to a red light and looked over at (YN). She had her head against the window and was staring blankly ahead. "Why haven't you been eating much? Do you need money for groceries? I can kick in more."

"Because I wanna be skinnier so you'll think I'm pretty like the girl you drew in your comic" she said so softly it was almost a whisper.

Gerard's heart broke at her words. "(YN), I do think you're beautiful. You don't have to change for me at all," he said looking back at her just before the light turned green. (YN) turned her head to look out the window so he couldn't see her reaction.

A few blocks later pulled up in front of a convenience store. "What's your favorite gatorade?" Gerard asked.

"Red," (YN) mumbled.

"Ok, wait here a sec," he said as he got out.

Gerard hurried inside, grabbing a big bottle of the drink, as well as a couple burritos.

"Here you go," Gerard said as he handed her the bag. "At least try to eat one to settle your stomach."

"Thanks," she replied, staring into the bag. She was too embarrassed to look up at Gerard at that moment. She felt like an idiot for getting so drunk that he had to take care of her. If she ever had a shot with Gerard, she was sure she had blown it now. 

The rest of the drive was just as silent as it had started until they arrived back in the house. Gerard put his arm around (YN) and helped her inside. She was already feeling less dizzy as she sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled off her shoes. Gerard took the bottle of gatorade and set it on her bedside table, plugged her phone into the charger, and brought in the garbage can in case she had to be sick. 

"You'll probably feel terrible tomorrow," he said with a slightly sad smile as she pulled the blankets over herself, not even bothering to change out of her clothes.

"I deserve it," she mumbled as she turned her face into her soft, cool pillow.

Before she could fully register what was happening, she felt Gerard kiss her head. "No you don't," he said before turning out the light and shutting the door behind him.

(YN)'s thoughts were spinning like the world had been earlier until she eventually passed out.

~

The next day (YN)’s phone was vibrating on her bedside table, but the sound felt like a jackhammer vibrating through her skull. Groaning, she opened her eyes to find the offending device.

Hey girl! Call me when u get up so i know ur alive the text from Eli read.

(YN) looked at her clock, it was almost 1 in the afternoon. She dragged herself out of bed, discarding the clothes she had worn the night before, and into the shower, the cold water jolting her awake. Climbing back into bed, she picked up her phone to call her friend.

“You survived,” Eli cheered when she answered the call.

“Oh my god, please shut up,” (YN) winced.

“Oh, you’re really feeling it huh?”

“Yea, I think I got run over at some point last night.”

“No, I didn’t let you run across any roads this time. Maybe Gerard did after he picked you up. How'd that go?”

“I don’t remember,” (YN) groaned. “I remember he bought me food and gatorade,” she said, picking up the bottle of the now room temperature drink.

Eli hummed. “Well he seems like a good guy, he came right to get you no questions asked when I called.”

“Yea,” (YN) agreed, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I just feel so dumb for getting so wasted.”

“It happens. And at least he’s seen you at your worst now. Has he said anything?”

“He’s at work I think.”

“Ah, well at least you got some more time to recover before you have to face him.”

“Why do you have to say it that way?” (YN) groaned as Eli laughed.

The friends talked for a while longer until (YN) heard the front door open.

“Shit, he’s back,” (YN) whispered, her embarrassment flooding back.

“Ok talk to you later, and don’t worry about it!” Eli said brightly before hanging up.

(YN) glanced up and saw Gerard hovering awkwardly by her door. “Hey, how you feeling?” 

“Been better,” (YN) replied, tucking a piece of her half wet hair behind her ear awkwardly. “Umm, I don’t really remember a lot from last night, but thanks for coming to get me and everything.”

Gerard nodded. “It’s no problem.”

“I feel really stupid. I won’t be doing that again anytime soon, I promise,” (YN) laughed dryly.

Gerard laughed a little as well. He didn’t know if he should bring up anything that was said between them the night before since she had said she couldn’t remember much, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she did remember.

~

After a few days, (YN)’s embarrassment at her drunken night finally started to diminish and she and Gerard’s interactions went back to normal. A while later, (YN) was hanging out in Gerard’s room talking about a show they had been to the weekend before when her phone rang. 

"Hello? Oh hi," (YN) answered. "What?! Is he ok?" She jumped up and left the room, but Gerard could still hear her end of the conversation, causing him to grow more concerned. "No I didn't see anything, there wasn't anyone… Ok... Yea… Ok let me know."

The color was drained from her face when she walked back into the room.

"What's wrong?" Gerard asked, his brows knitted together.

"Right after my shift ended the store got robbed. My coworker John is in the hospital and they took all the cash. The store is gonna be closed for a couple days I guess."

"Fuck," Gerard replied, totally stunned.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed," she said blankly before turning back toward her room and Gerard heard the door close behind her.

A while later Gerard got up to go to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee, but when he stepped into the hall, he stopped in his tracks. It sounded like crying coming from (YN)’s room.

"(YN), are you ok?" He asked as he knocked on her door, but she didn't answer. Cautiously he opened the door and found (YN) was sitting on her bed, knees pulled up to her chest, sobbing. 

"Shit," Gerard whispered as he rushed over and pulled her against him, letting her cry on his shoulder.

"It coulda been me. I could be in the hospital or dead right now and no one would even notice or care! Just another loser with no direction in life dead. I've wasted everything, I've ruined my whole life!"

"You haven't," Gerard said, rubbing her back. "I'd care very much if anything happened to you. And you have plenty of time. I had a job at a tv network and gave it up to form the band, and now I'm trying to get into comics."

"But I'm not talented like you! I have no skills, I never went to college because I didn't know what I wanted to do and I still don't. I just don't want to be stuck here the rest of my life waiting to get held up at gunpoint," she sobbed. "I'm just too stupid to get out of my own way long enough to figure anything out."

“No you aren't stupid, sometimes it just takes more time to get it figured out."

Eventually (YN)’s sobs started to quiet and she pulled back. “Thanks Gee. You really didn’t need to do this.”

“Yea I did. I couldn’t just let you be alone when you feel like this.”

(YN) sighed. “Every time I close my eyes I just picture it happening to me. I’m so tired, but I don’t think I’m gonna be able to sleep tonight.”

“Hang on,” Gerard said, getting up. (YN) saw the light from his room shut off, and he came back. “Ok, come here, I’ll keep you safe,” he said as he settled in next to her.

(YN) felt like her heart was going to burst through her chest as she slid down next to him. She laid her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

~

Something shifted in Gerard and (YN)’s relationship that night, although nothing was spoken of it. They started trading off whose bed they slept in, crawling into bed together just to be close to the other. When they watched a movie together, she rested her head against his shoulder. When (YN) was in the kitchen making coffee, Gerard would come in and wrap his arms around her and hold her close while she worked. The day after (YN) had a really bad shift at work, she came home and found a pink rose that looked like it had been trimmed from someone’s garden sitting on her bed.

It was a warm early fall evening when Gerard and (YN) showed up at a party held by a friend of a friend. (YN) had gone off to talk to Eli, and Gerard found himself watching her from across the yard. He wished he was by her side, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close, that’s where he felt happiest.

"Why are you looking at your roommate like that?" Frank asked, appearing at Gerard's side.

“Jesus,” Gerard muttered under his breath, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“Like you wanna get out here and get on top-”

“Stop, no, it’s not like that,” Gerard shook his head.

“Oh, so you don’t care if I go ask her out then?”

“What? You can’t!” Gerard blurted out. “I mean, what about Jamia?”

Frank grinned and pointed a finger in Gerard's face. “Exactly! So what are you gonna do about it?”

“Everything is fine, we’re fine,” Gerard grumbled.

As the sun began to set more people showed up, filling up the backyard. Without warning there was a shout as two guys started pushing each other, and then punches began to fly. 

(YN) found herself too near the fight and tried to get away from the fray, but more people were rushing to watch or take part in it and she couldn’t get past. Suddenly she felt someone grab her hand, interlacing their fingers with hers. She was about to pull away when she looked up and realized it was Gerard.

“Come on,” he said, pulling her out of the crowd.

“Thanks for not leaving me behind,” (YN) said once they were a safe distance from the fracus. 

“I couldn’t ever leave you behind,” Gerard smiled back at her. 

At that moment she became conscious of how their hands were still intertwined and how closely they were standing. (YN) didn’t want to move and lose the moment, but police sirens started cutting through the shouts of the brawl. “Oh shit," (YN) started laughing. “Let’s get out of here!”

“Here we go again,” Gerard smirked as they took off running, hand in hand, through the backyards until they couldn’t hear any of the commotion any longer. When they finally came out on a side street, they were both out of breath, but laughing. The smell of rain hung in the air.

“I have no idea where we are now,” (YN) laughed.

“Me neither, but,” Gerard trailed off with a shrug as they started walking aimlessly down the street.

(YN) glanced down, not totally understanding why Gerard was still holding her hand, but she still wasn’t planning on letting go. Then she noticed Gerard glancing down as well.

“(YN),” he started.

“Sorry,” she said, starting to pull her hand away, but Gerard held tighter.

“No, it’s not that,” he said, stopping under the street light. A soft rain began to fall around them. "It's that I don't wanna change things between us, but I really want to," he hesitated then took a step closer to (YN). He raised his free hand and gently caressed her cheek before leaning in and pressing his lips against hers.

(YN)'s mind was spinning. She couldn't believe that this was really happening, that Gerard, her roommate, her friend, was now kissing her in the middle of a desolate street. She kissed him back, not knowing if this would happen again, and she wanted to make the most of this chance.

Gerard's hand moved from her cheek to run through her hair, now soaked from the steady rain. He dropped her hand that he was still holding, but only so he could wrap his arm around her and pull her closer against him as he deepened the kiss and she draped her arms over his shoulders.

When they finally pulled apart, the rain had them both soaked and they were laughing together again. “We should try to find our way home,” Gerard said glancing around.

“Let’s go this way,” (YN) suggested with a nod down the street.

Gerard nodded with a smile and wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they headed back to find the car.

~

The next morning (YN) woke up in her bed with Gerard holding her tight. She had hoped to spend all morning being lazy with him, but what had woken her up was her phone ringing on her bedside table.

“Hello?” She whispered.

“Hey (YN), I know you don’t work until this afternoon, but we got a call out, can you come in this morning and work a double?” (YN)’s manager asked.

(YN) let her face fall against her pillow and groaned softly. “Yea I guess so.”

“Great, see you as soon as you can get here.”

When (YN) glanced over at Gerard, he was just waking up. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to spend the morning with you here, but I got called in for a double shift,” (YN) pouted.

“Damn,” Gerard frowned. “But I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I know,” she sighed before leaning in and kissing him softly. She climbed out of bed and got ready for work. The day seemed to drag by because all she wanted was to go home to Gerard.

“I’m so glad that day is done!” (YN) announced when she burst through the door. She waited for Gerard to reply but didn’t hear anything. “Gee? Are you here?”

“Yea,” he replied forlornly, coming out of his room.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“I’m gonna go out to visit Mikey,” Gerard said.

“Oh cool!” (YN) smiled up at him and he felt like his heart was breaking.

“And when I’m out on the west coast, I’ve got a meeting with Dark Horse Comics about my project.”

“That’s awesome!” (YN) grinned. But when she didn’t see the same level of excitement in Gerard’s face, her own excitement faltered. “Isn’t it?”

“Yea, I guess. I’m just nervous about it. There are a few things they wanna discuss about developing it and stuff. But I might have to move out to the west coast if this all works out.”

“Oh,” (YN) said, surprised. She tried to keep her disappointment hidden. “That’s an incredible opportunity though.”

“I know, but we’ve only just-”

“Gerard, don't you think for even one second about not going because of me,” (YN) interrupted him. “I have wasted my entire life being so afraid that I’ll make the wrong choice, that I let every decent opportunity pass me by. I care about you too much to let you do the same.”

Gerard didn’t know how to respond, other than to take a step forward and wrap (YN) into a tight hug. "Thanks," he mumbled against her neck. 

They stood like that for a while, neither willing to let go. “Come on, let’s order something for dinner to celebrate,” she suggested once they pulled back.

~

The following week, Mikey picked Gerard up from the airport. They put together a list of places Mikey loved to check out the next day.

After stopping at the coffee shop down the street, the comic book store that always had what Mikey was looking for, and the record shop with the friendly owner they went to the beach to kill time before dinner. 

"You ok? Are you nervous about the meetings or something?" Mikey asked. He had noticed Gerard seemed distracted all day, but Gerard just shook his head. "Then what's wrong?" Mikey asked.

"I couldn't sleep last night," Gerard said with a glance at his brother.

"Is the bed uncomfortable?"

“No, it's not that," he paused. "It's that I can’t sleep without her,” Gerard said, looking down at his hands.

"(YN)?"

"Yea."

“How long have you been together?” Mikey asked.

“We haven’t officially, but it’s, I mean...” Gerard stammered, searching for the words to define something that had only just begun and had no definition.

“But you love her?” Mikey filled in the gaps, knowing Gerard better than Gerard knew himself.

Gerard listened to the waves crashing on the shore. He didn't even realize when he had fallen in love with (YN), because it wasn't like a lightning bolt from the sky. It grew out of lazy days talking for hours, nights sleeping in the other's bed just because they wanted to be that close to each other, the way her hair fell in her face, her laugh, her lips, her selflessness, the way she was always pushing him to do more and be better. And now there he was, missing her like crazy, ready to throw away his dream if she asked him to. But she hadn't, and she wouldn’t. She encouraged him to go across the country and chase it down, even if it meant leaving her behind.

“Yea,” he said with a soft smile and Mikey nodded.

Silence hung between the brothers for a while as the sun began to set. “It’s almost time to meet up with Kristin for dinner,” Mikey announced as he got up.

Gerard nodded and followed him back to the car. As they drove away from the beach, Gerard thought about how much he wanted to bring (YN) here. He knew she’d love it. It felt like there were so many possibilities, fresh starts for everyone. He just needed to get them out of New Jersey.

~

(YN) paced outside the arrivals gate, checking the screen with the times over and over. Gerard’s flight was on time, he should be arriving shortly. She had spent most of the day excited that he was coming back today, but now that she was at the airport waiting for him, she felt incredibly nervous.

Gerard hadn’t called since he let her know he had arrived safely. She had insisted that he spend his time with Mikey and getting ready for the meetings and not to worry about her, but that didn’t stop her from thinking about him all the time. The first night she tried to sleep in her own bed, but ended up crawling into his because his pillows smelled like him and it made her heart ache a little less. And it’s where she had spent the rest of the week.

That morning as she sat in his bed, knees pulled up to her chest as she sipped her coffee in the cool morning air, she looked around his space. They’d been living together almost a year now, and the room had become so uniquely his. The comics that were stacked up next to his bed, the drawings that littered his desk, the records in the crate he painted himself. All things that went into what added up to Gerard. She smiled softly as a realization dawned on her as she shivered.

“I love him,” (YN) admitted to herself softly. “I really, truly, love him.”

Now at the airport she glanced up at the screen and saw his flight had arrived. Her heart started hammering in her chest as she started to look around, not knowing how soon he’d appear. What felt like an eternity later, she finally spotted a mop of black hair.

“Gee!” She called as she rushed over to him. Gerard dropped his bag so he could wrap his arms around her in a big hug. He pulled her in for a kiss in the middle of the crowd of travelers.

“I missed you,” he murmured when they pulled back.

“Me too,” she smiled.

"Let's get out of here," he smiled as he took her hand and they went to find her car.

"So how was the trip? How was Mikey? And the meetings, tell me everything!" (YN) gushed as they finally arrived at her car.

"Mikey's doing really good. He has this girlfriend, Kristin, she's super sweet, you'll really like her," he said as he threw his bag in the trunk.

"Oh yea, maybe I’ll meet her one day," (YN) smiled.

“(YN), I wanted to wait until we were someplace nicer than the airport parking ramp, but I can't wait any longer. I got the job at Dark Horse so I’m gonna have to move out west,” he paused, reaching out and taking her hands. “But I can’t leave without you because I love you so much (YN). It’d be a new start for both of us, together. Please?”

It took (YN) a moment to fully process what Gerard said. "Yes!" She finally replied in awe.

Gerard grabbed her face between his hands and pulled her lips to his as tears spilled from behind her closed eyes. He held her close as he kissed her with everything he had. When they pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. 

“I love you too Gerard,” she murmured. “And thank you for not leaving me behind.”

“I couldn’t ever leave you behind.”

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Headfirst for Halos (ch.4)

Ship: Tate Langdon/fem!Reader

WARNINGS: allusions to both physical and emotional abuse from a family member, actual physical abuse between a freshman and a senior, allusions to mental illnesses such as depression, student v. student violence. strong language. physical abuse done to a child by a parent, death

general comments: the american rock band My Chemical Romance was referenced in this story, yes it doesn’t work with the timeline, no I do not care. pretend mcr was around in the 80′s and 90′s. overall, I’m pretty proud of how this turned out. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1 FOR AMERICAN HORROR STORY AHEAD. pre-death tate, pre-shooting tate, pre-beau death.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

_______________________________

The quiet hum of the small mechanical fan beside me is comforting, the soft feeling of Tate’s head on my shoulder grounding me. It’s been a day since the predicament in the bathroom, but things between Tate and I had already changed drastically. He’s more… touchy. He’s still a bit reserved, but he no longer strays away from me. His eyes have been darting to the old record player on my desk, the unspoken request to listen hanging in the air. I smile softly.

“Hey, I’m in the mood for some music. You got any requests?” I ask softly, gently moving away from the boy on the floor. 

“Actually, I’d like to hear what you’re into. You wear those My Chemical Romance shirts a lot, but I’ve never heard of ‘em.” My eyes widened in shock.

“You’ve never heard of My Chem? Dude, you gotta check ‘em out, their first album is revolutionary.” I’m already flicking through my boxes of records, stopping once I hit the orange hue of I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love. I ever-so-carefully take out the record, placing it gently on the small player. The needle slowly falls onto the dark vinyl, the soft tones of Romance filling the room. 

“You remember the shooting back in 74’? The Olean High School Shooting? Well, the lead singer, Gerard Way-- he was there. It shook him to the core, and he realized he wanted to make a difference in the world. He called anyone he knew who could play and instrument and the rest is history” Tate smiled at my antics. “It’s odd to think about MCR’s origins. It’s weird how something so… beautiful could come from something so horrible.”

“So, is it all angsty guitar playing?” Tate teases. I roll my eyes as the next track plays, softly singing along to the opening lines of Honey, This Mirror Isn’t Big Enough for the Two of Us. 

“You’ll come to discover the superiority of this album, Langdon, and you can quote me on that.” I winked, laughing at the way Tate’s face flushed. His endearing smile lingers on his face until the song comes to an end. Vampires Will Never Hurt You plays next, and Tate immediately reacts.

“Ooh, this one is actually really good.” I turn up the volume just a bit, my head snapping to the door as it swings open.

“Y/n, turn that bullshit off-- who the hell are you?” My mother snaps, her eyes narrowing at Tate. He seems shocked, so I speak for him.

“He’s my friend. I'll turn off the music, just leave us alone.” My mother glares at me before speaking again.

“Get the hell out of my house.” She says firmly to Tate. He quickly says goodbye and scurries out the door, leaving me and my mother alone. The air is heavy with anticipation, the strong smell of whisky hitting my nose. I’m glad Tate left. He shouldn’t have to see this. 

“Whore,” my mother growls. “I know what you kids do, you hide away in dark corners and feel each other up. Disgusting dirty little rats, that’s what you are and all you’ll ever be!” She shouts, and she strikes me across the face before I can process her words. It stings, but it’s nothing I haven’t felt before.

“I’ve never done anything like that with anyone!” I lied before ducking away from another swing. She stumbles, too drunk to stay steady. She crashes into my dresser, the sound of clattering items echoing through the room. My mother struggles to her feet, her eyes flicking to the record on my record player, and an evil smile grows on her face.

“You two really bonded over this, huh?” She shakily walks toward the record player.

“I told you, we didn’t do anth--” 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, slut,” she spits. “I know what you do with the boys you bring around here-- the boys and the girls.” She grabs the shiny black record, clutching it in her hand.

“No daughter of mine is gonna be a whore, let alone a fucking faggot.” With that final statement, she hurls the record against the wall, shattering it completely. She stumbles out of the room, and I’m left to pick up the pieces. Again.

It’s not the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last. Even after I escape this hell house and this goddamn town, there’s always gonna be people like her. There’s always gonna be people who want to hurt me-- and that’s why vulnerability is bad. I want to protect Tate from people like my mother because I know Tate can’t defend himself. I finish picking up the leftover pieces of I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love. I hear the door open behind me, and I brace myself. 

“Y-Y/n?” the small voice of my little sister, Delilah, echoes through my room. I whip around and notice the tears in her eyes, the familiar look of fear behind her retinas. I open my arms to welcome here.

“What’s wrong, ‘lilah?” I coo, stroking her hair gently. She sniffles.

“Mommy is l-loud, she s-scared me.” Anger bubbles in the pit of my stomach; I’ll die before I let my mother harm Delilah.

“Did she hurt you, baby?” She shakes her head, resting her temple on my shoulder. “If she ever hurts you, or tries to hurt you, tell me.”

“Where did your boy go?” Delilah asks suddenly, turning to look around the room. 

“Tate? He left when mama came in. Why?” She smiles softly.

“He talked to me last night. I got scared in the dark and came in to sleep with you. He was there and he told me he really liked you.” She giggled slightly. “He said if any monsters tried to hurt me, he’d beat them up.” A smile broke out on my face, an odd, warm, fuzzy feeling spread throughout my body. It’s good to know that Tate cares. Note to self: call Tate later. An idea pops into my head.

“Hey, ‘lilah, wanna go get some ice cream?” The young girl in my lap nods frantically. She scrambles to get her shoes on, her mint green pants a blur as she darts to collect her things. I laugh as I pull on my worn-down boots, grabbing my wallet from the desk as I do so. Delilah practically drags me out the door in a fit of anticipating giggles, the traumatic scene from before disappearing from my mind.  

______

By the time Delilah and I start walking home, the sun is low on the horizon, a navy blue intruding on the golden orange of the sunset. We’re not far from home, the tip of our roof peeking over some trees in the distance. Delilah is holding my hand tightly, her ice cream cone in the other. My face breaks out in a large grin when I see Tate walking towards us, his eyes lighting up behind his mess of curly hair. 

“Hey, stranger,” He calls out, jogging over to us. His eyes widen at the bruise on my face, his hand instinctively reaching out to grab mine. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I quickly peck him on the cheek. “I am now.” Delilah shivers, gently tugging my arm. She’s sleepy, I can tell. “Alright, we gotta get home. I’ll see you around, Langdon.” He smiles.

“See ya around,” He walks away and Delilah yawns. 

I immediately know something is wrong when I notice the front door is wide open. My stomach drops, and I turn to face Delilah.

“Lilah, stay here. Stand behind these trees until I come to get you okay?” She nods worriedly, planting her feet in the dirt. I ran into the house, grabbing my old baseball bat from the front entryway. My hands gripped the wooden bat so tightly my knuckles were a ghostly white. The house is dead silent, that is, until the loud clatter of the baseball bat hitting the floor. All the air leaves my lungs at the sight I’m faced with, pure terror coursing through my veins.

In the middle of the floor was my mother in a puddle of crimson blood, her throat slit. Her cold, dead eyes stared into mine. I screamed.

[screamxqueenx94]

Caught In Your Web// Like Family

Summary: Trouble awaits Raven as soon as she escapes the Avengers headquarters

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: None

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x OC!Raven Connors a.ka. Hood (eventually

·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·

A cloud of smoke appears in an alley behind a bar as Raven is dropped into a dumpster. A loud thud and the sound of trashbags and glass being hit follows. She sits up and looks around to see if the coast is clear. When she sees that she's alone, she hops out, brushes herself off and removes any pieces of food stuck to her hoodie. She puts up her hood, shoves her hands in the pockets and starts walking down the street. 

As she walks back to her apartment, she looks around to make sure she's not being followed. She's only a few feet from her building when she sees a suspicious van parked across the street, so she pulls her hood in a way to cover her face more and rounds the corner to the alley between the run down deli and abandoned art studio. She climbs the fire escape of the art studio and hides out until it starts to get dark. 

Once the sun is setting, she manipulates the shadows of the darkness to get a running start and jump from the art studio roof to her apartment building, aiming for the fire escape in front of her window. She stretches her body forward and grasps the railing of the fire escape in front of her apartment window and swings herself over. 

She slides the window up and climbs inside. As she closes the window, her roommate, Erica, comes out of her room. "Do you have any idea why there's a creepy van parked across the street?" She asks, scratching her bed head sleepily.

Raven whips her head around to face Erica and quickly pulls the blanket hanging over the window back to its position over the window. "Are you just now waking up? It's like seven o'clock at night." 

"Don't change the subject." Erica snaps.

Raven shifts her eyes and quickly goes to cover all the other windows. "I… may have had some trouble with The Avengers…" 

Erica's eyes get huge. "What the hell did you do?" She asked, yelling with her arms out at her sides.

She's loud enough to get the attention of their other roommates, who all open their bedroom doors to the commotion. Boyd, Erica's boyfriend is the first to speak up. 

"What happened?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Raven pissed off The Avengers and that's why they have a fuckin' surveillance van sitting outside the apartment!" Erica answered loudly.

"Would you keep your voice down! They could be listening!" Raven whispers loudly. 

"The Avengers are spying on us?" Ethan asks, looking around the apartment to see if it was bugged.

"What did you do?" Aiden asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Did you finally get caught stealing?" Brett asks, standing on the spiral staircase leading to the upstairs bedrooms.

"Would you all just be quiet for five fuckin' seconds? I'm trying to think!" Raven snaps.

"You don't need to worry about thinking, you need to answer our questions!" Erica argues. 

Raven rubs her temples and sighs loudly. 

"Okay, look…" she looks up at them, ready to explain what's going on.

"...last night, when I went to pick up dinner, I happened to stop at the bank on 34th Street and may have taken some money…" she explains nonchalantly.

Everyone continues to look at her, waiting for the rest of the story. 

"... And Spider-Man must've seen me give the money to some people that I thought could use it and followed me to the apartment…" she continues. 

Brett signaled for her to keep going. 

"... Anyways, we shared some pizza and he said that he was gonna arrest me. I ran. Got caught by that Hawkeye bitch after getting away from him. Ended up in one of their prison cells. Got out. Kicked all their asses and escaped." She finished.

"And your first thought was to come back here?" Boyd asked confused.

"Where else was I suppose to go?" She asked loudly.

"Somewhere!" Erica answered.

"Yo, we all got records, Ray! This could cause some serious problems for us!" Aiden reminded her.

"Yeah, I know that!" She shot back.

"Dude, you can't stay here…" Brett tells her calmly.

"Excuse me? This is my apartment! I let y'all live here!" Raven argued back. 

"But there's more of us and only one of you… it's the smarter and safer choice if you stayed somewhere else until that van leaves." Brett explains.

Raven scoffs and shakes her head and turns away from them with her hands on her hips. She takes a moment before turning back to them and raising her hands in defeat. "Okay… fine…" 

She heads to the steps, pushes Brett out of the way and heads up the stairs, packs a duffle bag of clothes and essentials and makes her way back to the window. She opens it, steps one foot out onto the fire escape, then stops and looks towards them.

"Good luck paying for the rent you moneyless assholes." She snarks before leaving out the window. 

She climbs down the fire escape and starts walking down the street, using the shadows to hide from the van. She walks at least five blocks before reaching a familiar apartment complex. She looks at the list of names for each apartment buzzer.  She recognizes the names for apartment 24J. C. Bryant & M. Hewitt.

She hits the buzzer to buzz into the com. There's static before someone answers.

"Who is it?" The male voice on the other end answers. 

"It's me…" she answers, knowing he'd know exactly who it was.

There's a pause before she finally gets an answer. "Come on up." He finally says.

She grabs the handle and waits to be buzzed in. She walks straight to the industrial elevator that would lead her to the apartment. She pulls the door down and hits the button for the floor. When the elevator stops and dings, she lifts up the door and steps in. She walks in a little further into the huge, open apartment and see Corey and Mason sitting at the dinner table, eating. They look up from their food and rise to their feet to hug her.

"Raven! You okay?" Mason asks concerned.

"I'm in a bit of trouble. My roommates kicked me out and I wasn't sure where to go." She answered shyly.

"Ray, you know you're always welcome here. You're practically family." Corey comforts, putting a hand on her shoulder. 

Mason nods in agreement. Raven half heartedly smiles at her friends that she's known since she ran away at thirteen. Suddenly Mason and Corey start sniffing and grimace. 

"Ray… is that you?" Corey asks. 

Raven looks at them confused, then grabs the shoulder of her hoodie and gives it a sniff, then grimaces herself. "I uh… may have had to hide in a dumpster at one point…" she reluctantly informs them. 

"Why don't you jump in the shower and put your clothes outside the door? I'll wash them for you." Mason insists sweetly. 

Raven just nods and follows Mason to the bathroom. 

"And then when you're done, I'll make you a plate of food. You look like you haven't eaten a good meal in awhile." Mason adds, making Raven let out a light chuckle.

.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

She finishes up in the bathroom. Wearing an old t-shirt and boxer shorts with freshly brushed wet hair and heads out to the dining area where Mason had a plate of pot roast and potatoes ready and warm for her. She sits down and digs in. The boys watch her devour the food in front of her. 

"Ray…" Corey gets her attention. She looks up at them with cheeks full of food.

"Mason and I were talking while you were in the shower, and we think it would be best if your stay with us was a more… permanent situation." Mason rests his hand on top of Corey's as he talks.

"You're like a sister to us and we worry about you. We just want to make sure you're okay." Mason adds. 

She looks between them, slowly chewing. She takes a minute to swallow, then looks down at her lap. "The last thing I want is to get you guys involved in my issues… honestly, I really shouldn't have even come here--" Corey cuts her off.

"Don't say that! You were there for us when we had our hard times. Letting us live with you, bailing us out when we got in trouble. You had our backs… let us have yours." 

She sighs, then looks at the two of them. "If you guys knew what was going on you wouldn't say that." 

"Why? Did you start working with Gerard again?" Mason asked concerned. 

"No… it's more complicated than that…" she trails off. 

"Hey, whatever it is, we got your back..." Corey reassures. "... If you don't wanna talk about it, that's okay, but just know that if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be where we are and we owe you our lives." 

She smiles and nods, then goes back to eating. Happy to know that her oldest friends had her back no matter what.

.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

Corey and Mason tell Raven goodnight as they head off to there room. As the lights shut off, she lays their on the couch, not even tired despite the crazy day she had. She tosses and turns for hours but just can't sleep. She throws the blanket off, throws on her freshly cleaned hoodie, covers her still damp hair with the hood, and heads towards their balcony with the most beautiful view of the city that she's ever seen.

She sits at one of the outdoor chairs and just takes in the night sky, listens to the sounds of the city, feeling the nightly breeze through her hair when she's interrupted by a familiar voice. 

"Y'know, for someone trying to hide, you're like, really easy to find." Spider-Man…

 She smirks and turns her head to look at him perched on the ledge on the opposite side of her. "You must be really good at your job...you gonna take me in?" 

"No." He hops down onto the balcony. "This is a personal visit." 

"Look, I'm sorry I embarrassed you by using your own webs against you and making you fall--" he interrupts her.

"No no, I--I was actually really impressed by your performance at the headquarters."

"You were?" She asks surprised.

"Yeah. I mean, I really enjoyed watching you make a fool out of Jackson." He joked. 

She softly chuckles. "So you don't like him either, huh?" 

"He's a jerk and likes to use his money to get his way." He answers as he sits in the chair next to her.

She nods in agreement and rests her head on the back of the chair. There's a comfortable silence between them for awhile.

"I seen what you did for that single mom in the apartment yesterday…" he finally speaks up, making Raven look at him. "Why did you do that? Did you know her?" He asks.

"Not personally… I've seen her a few times. She use to take care of me when I'd go to the diner she worked at in the morning for breakfast and she worked at the deli on my block before it closed down." 

"How did you know she had kids?" He asked curiously.

"Seen them at the diner sometimes. Couldn't afford a sitter so she'd have to bring them with her from time to time." Raven answers, her head still resting on the back of the chair. 

There's silence again. He finally looks back to her and speaks up to break the silence. "I respect what you did…" 

She looks at him with surprise before he speaks again. "I mean, I don't agree with robbing a bank, but I respect that you didn't keep any of the money for yourself and gave it those who needed it." 

"Thanks…" she wasn't really sure what to say. She was, almost dumbfounded. 

They sit there, looking at each other for awhile. They both turn and look up at the night sky and watch the stars until light starts breaking through the night sky...

·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.·

@mrs-mitch-rapp93 @teenwolfmarvel-obsessor @mummybear @bisexual-magnus-bane @fullangelimagines @stiles-o-dylan24 @nicole-lynne @daisyxbuckley @azgeina @iilexi13 @lavenderrosegoddess @teenwolffan-with-nolife

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Bad Blood - Chapter 29

You can find it on AO3 or read the Tumblr Chapter Index here. 

____________

Stiles hears the explosion—the fire escape—and then it’s silent. He stands with his gaze fixed on the window. He’s in Laura’s room. There’s a white comforter on the bed that looks ghostly in the gloom, and a few knickknacks on her dresser. There’s a stack of books on her bedside table, all of them well-read and dog-eared.

The Hales are readers.

For some reason it had never occurred to Stiles, in all those years, that werewolves had human traits like that. That they liked books, or cooking, or going to the beach, or a million different things that make them no different than anybody else.

It never occurred to him because Kate and Gerard only told him they were monsters. They didn’t tell him they were people too.

Sudden movement: a blacker shape against the darkness outside.

Stiles shoots before the guy even makes it through the window.

The glass shatters and the guy lurches back—and back and back and back. Turns out that Stiles didn’t need to make a kill shot in the dark with no night vision. He just had to hit the guy hard enough to send him over the railing.

Well, it did the trick, he guesses.

From the room next door, Derek’s room, he hears a roar, and then shots. There’s chaos from downstairs now as well, but Stiles can only think of Derek. Can only think of getting to Derek’s side and helping him.

His speed is his mistake. He rushes into the room, firearm held ready to shoot, and Derek and the hunter aren’t in the positions he assumed. Stupid stupid stupid. Derek is standing by the window, and the hunter is closest to the door. Stiles pivots, but he’s off balance, and the shot he squeezes off puts a hole in Derek’s wall and not the hunter. The hunter raises his arm to shoot back.

And then Derek is pulling Stiles back into his arms and spinning on his feet, like some intricate dance move from an old black-and-white film. Derek jerks as the bullet hits him, and Stiles feels all his breath sucked out of him in that instant.

Derek sags into Stiles’s arms, his eyes flashing beta gold.

No. No no no.

From downstairs he hears more shots fired, and the sudden yelp of a wolf.

“Sorry, Der,” Stiles whispers, and lets Derek go.

Derek stumbles to the floor with a pained grunt even as Stiles is raising his arm and firing at the hunter.

And again.

And again.

And again.

The hunter jerks and twists like a puppet before he finally drops to the ground. Stiles moves over to him and kicks his firearm out of reach. He leans down and reaches for his body armor. Tears it open with a loud Velcro rasp. Exposes his chest, and then shoots again.

The hunter lies still.

Stiles replaces his clip.

“Stiles!” Laura skids into the room. “Shit, Derek!”

Derek makes a pained sound, and sucks in a breath. “I’m okay.”

But he’s not, Stiles knows. The poison is in his blood now.

“Wolfsbane bullets,” Stiles says. “We need to remove the bullet and then burn the poison out.”

And then from downstairs Stiles hears the most terrifying sound of all—Allison’s scream.

***

Stiles’s brain works fast.

“Be my hostage,” he tells Laura, and points his firearm at her.

“What’s your plan?” she asks, her worried gaze drawn again to Derek.

“I’m winging it,” Stiles says. “Just go along with it, okay?”

Laura nods.

Stiles tangles his hand in her ponytail, and tugs her head back. He jabs the barrel of his firearm against the back of her neck. “We good?”

“Yeah,” she says, and a part of him can’t believe she’s trusting him. He has an alpha werewolf at the end of his gun, and all because she trusts him. How crazy is that?

They descend the steps carefully, just as the lights flicker on.

There’s blood all over the concrete floor.

There are two dead hunters on the floor.

Peter Hale is lying near the breakfast bar. He looks like he’s been shot at least twice. The blood is still spreading out from underneath him, and his fingers are twitching against the concrete.

Gerard is here, and so is another hunter.

John Stilinski is standing with his hands up.

Allison is here too. She doesn’t have her bow. She’s shaking.

“Stiles,” Gerard says. His voice is like sandpaper over the exposed ends of Stiles’s frayed nerves.

But his mind is moving fast.

He walks over to the room with the steel door, and urges Laura inside. She resists, her suspicion catching her at last, but Stiles pushes her, and manages to pull the door shut. Then he turns to face Gerard.

“I can make it up to you, sir,” Stiles says, because there’s not point pretending there was no betrayal. “Please.”

Gerard’s stare is as cold as ice.

Laura bangs on the inside of the steel door.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles says, and babbles like he’s a kid again. “Please, I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”

Gerard’s eyes gleam and his expression sharpens. “Prove it.”

“Wh-what?”

“Prove it,” Gerard says, and waits to see what Stiles will do.

Stiles’s brain is working very quickly. Derek is upstairs with a bullet in his spine. Peter is here, with at least two in him. They’re as good as dead if nobody helps them.

Stiles steps toward his father. He reaches out his hand—it’s shaking—and touches that shiny badge on his rumpled uniform shirt. Then he squeezes his shoulder, his thumb sliding under the collar of his father’s shirt.

He holds his father’s gaze for a moment, and says: “Traitor.”

Then he takes a few steps back, and raises his firearm.

“Do it, Stiles,” Gerard says. “Do it. Show me that you’re a man.”

Stiles aims for his father’s chest, and fires.

His father staggers back and hits the floor.

Stiles’s heart freezes, and Peter Hale howls like his world is ending.

Stiles doesn’t wait for instructions. He strides to the steel door, wrenches it open, catches a glimpse of Laura’s wild red eyes, and shoots her too.

Over the roar of blood rushing in his skull, he can hear Gerard laughing.

***

In the car, Allison won’t look at him. She’s sitting in the middle seat, with Stiles on one side and the surviving hunter on the other. Gerard is driving. Stiles has no idea where Gerard is planning to take them. Out of Beacon Hills, probably. He’s finally got what he wanted—the Hales have been taken care of, and Allison is in his grasp. Stiles isn’t sure if Gerard intends to keep him alive. If he is, then Stiles guesses that right now Gerard is coming up with some sadistic way to punish him for his failures. Because if Stiles knows anything about Gerard, it doesn’t matter what Stiles did right tonight—only what he did wrong in the days leading up to tonight.

Gerard took Stiles’s gun off him before he let him leave the loft.

“Grandpa,” Allison says in a small voice. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain it all soon, Allison,” Gerard says in that fake-friendly tone that makes Stiles’s skin crawl.

Allison unclips her seatbelt so she can lean forward. “Please, Grandpa. Where are you taking us?”

She slides a hand down her leg, fingers dipping into the top of her boot.

Stiles’s heartbeat races, and he glances across to the unfamiliar hunter. The guy is staring out the window.

Allison shifts forward again, pulling her hand back, and there’s a glint of light as they pass under a streetlight. She has an arrow in her hand, and she leans into the gap between the front seats and jabs it toward Gerard’s throat—

Stiles flings himself sideways behind her, grabbing for the unfamiliar hunter’s utility belt. He’s not sure he can reach his gun from this angle, but maybe he can stop the guy from reaching it too.

—just as Gerard turns his head. There’s a sickening squelching sound, and Gerard screams in pain.

The Escalade veers off the road.

“Ally!” Stiles yells.

Allison braces herself a second before the Escalade collides with a light pole.

The impact is shocking, jarring. Metal screeches and crumples, the windshield pops in a shower of glass, and the Escalade lurches back a few feet. The light pole snaps, crashing to the ground.

The strange hunter’s head bounces off the window. Stiles grabs his gun, shoves it under his chin, and fires.

Hot blood splatters the interior of the Escalade.

“Oh my god,” Allison says, her voice shaking, and then she scrambles over Stiles, opens the door, and tumbles out. She hits the asphalt hard, and climbs to her feet. She’s splattered with the dead hunter’s blood. “Oh my god! I got him in the eye! The fucking eye!”

Stiles leans between the seats to get a look at Gerard. “Holy fuck.”

Allison’s arrow is protruding from his eye socket. There’s…blood and goo dripping down his face. It’s disgusting, but it takes Stiles longer than he would like to look away. He can’t believe Ally did that. Jesus. She’s an Argent all right, and Stiles would follow her all the way into hell if she asked him.

He stares at Gerard a moment longer, and then scrambles out of the car to join Allison at the side of the road.

“Ally,” he says.

She backs away from him, wide-eyed. “Don’t come near me, Stiles!”

“Ally, no, listen,” he says.

“Stiles! You killed them! Laura and your dad!” She tugs at her hair like a maenad. In the flickering light of the downed light pole she’s wide-eyed and tear-streaked. “Oh god.”

“Ally, listen!”

A screech of tires heralds the arrival of a battered blue Jeep. It pulls up beside the Escalade, headlights blinding Stiles. He lifts a hand to shade his eyes as the driver’s door swings open and his father steps out.

“Sheriff!” Allison exclaims. She turns to Stiles. “But you shot him!”

“Technically,” Stiles says, at the same time as his dad says, “Only a little.”

And then his dad steps forward and pulls Stiles into a hug. And Stiles doesn’t know if they’re there yet, but also, fuck it. He’s shaking, and his knees are weak, and he wants to throw up. Hell, he’d take a hug off anyone at this point.

His fingers find his dad’s badge again—that old familiar shape of it. And then he lifts a hand to his Dad’s shoulder, and feels the ballistic vest under his shirt again. He lets his breath shudder out of him.

“Been wearing it since I heard the Argents were back in town,” his dad says gruffly. “Glad you figured it out, kiddo.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “Me too.”

And it feels a lot like the truth.

Because if he hadn’t been wearing it, he’d be dead, and so would—

Stiles’s heart clenches.

“Is Derek…”

“He’s fine,” his dad says. “As soon as you left, I saw to them. They’re all shaky and weak as hell right now, but they’re healing. You did good, Stiles.” He ruffles Stiles hair. “You did good, son.”

Stiles closes his eyes and remembers, for the first time in years, how to breathe.

[veridium]

dirty little secret

WOAH BOY. I did not expect such a quick turn around, but when you’re writing sweet, sweet friendship, shit happens. thanks to @bitchesofostwick and her fabulous writing that got my gears going.

I have been wanting to use an all-american-rejects ref as a title since we started and now, here I am!

on this episode...Olivia awakens to find Ellinor wearing a strange fleece (HM??). BUT, that is not the only incident that surprises her, as a message left on her door gives her cause for concern. 

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10 // part 11 

--

Her cell phone alarm goes off as it always does on wednesday: 7:30, just enough time to get her shit together before her 10am lecture. However, as she revisits the text she got the night before from Ellinor, it also becomes a beautiful morning for hearing all about her “group project meeting.” Luckily she doesn’t have to travel far, or bother with pants. Wearing an over-sized, old All-American Rejects tour shirt she thrifted a year ago, she fits the bill when lastly she slips on her pink fuzzy slippers -- the only items of her wardrobe she would accept in such a color. She then wanders a few doors down to Ellinor’s and Sera’s room. Sera is gone for a few days on some road trip to one of her many hair-brained destinations, so Olivia has no minced feelings about knocking loudly.

Knock, knock, knock. Nothing.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. Nothing again.

“Knock, knock, bitch, get up! We need coffee!”

The door rips open, and a face with slight drool on the corner of her mouth and hair tousled over her eyes appears. But, it’s not her expression that Olivia’s eyes fixate on like a moth to a fleece flame.

A Knight athletic fleece, the expensive one.

“Good morning sunsh--shit, is that…”

Ellinor jerks her chin down, suddenly coherent. Her brow furrows and she whirls around to retreat back into her lair, mumbling things while she lazily swings the door shut. Olivia, of course, slaps her hand on it and waves it open with gusto.

“Ellinor Trev--”

“NO.”

“Is he in here?!” she skips in, looking around in all corners and nooks as if Cullen is compactible like a lawn chair or something. “Oh, God dammit, I never catch your lovers! No fair!”

Ellinor crawls back under her covers and pulls them up over her head. Interestingly, she does not forsake the fleece sweatshirt that has seemed to magically exist out of nowhere.

“Is that his…”

“Mmph.”

“So it IS. You’re a filthy liar! You said you didn’t do anything in your text, I got receipts!” Olivia promptly hops onto the lower side of the twin mattress, curling her legs up under her sideways.

“I didn’t do anything. I meant it. I just...this...it was cold, okay! Why does everyone think I am magically not cold susceptible? I have questionable circulation…” she half-whines the last part, before squirming into her pillow some more like a burrowing naked mole rat.

Olivia hums, not convinced. “You got some explaining to do, and this calls for extra strong coffee. And scones. I want every detail. I’m gonna throw on some sweats or something, I won’t be long.” The casual mood she has yesterday with Cassandra has carried over through a full night’s sleep, and Olivia feels all the pomp and makeup of her typical routine to be unnecessary for once. She swats on the bump in the comforter she suspects is Ellinor’s ass before hopping back onto her feet and out into the hallway. She’ll be back to wrangle her soon enough out of the depths of her ironic despair.

Scooting her poof-slippered feet out into the hall she spots her door half-shut. Only, it’s not her door -- not the way she remembers it, anyhow. There’s...papers? Taped on it just above the doorknob. Posted notes and event reminders aren’t exactly unheard of in dorm halls, but as she walks she scans the other shut and locked doors -- nothing. Just hers has stuff on it.

When she arrives she yanks off the posted paper and notices some hastily copy/pasted clipart of some crosses mounted on a hillside. Her stomach churns as she reads the message. It’s a pamphlet-esque flyer asking the reader if their soul has been saved, and if not, resources in order to accomplish that. On the back there’s a scripture excerpt as the header, and then a list of every Church in the city limits with their contact information and addresses. It has the design skills of a 4th grader who’s project is due the morning after and all they have to use is Microsoft Word 2003.

And on the very bottom, handwritten for that special touch: “For the Slut in 21C.”

She looks both ways down the end of the hall and sees no one lurking, though the hair on the back of her neck stands up. The faces of those Church preps that pouted at her when she was on Cassandra’s bike pop into her head. Oh, it would be an interesting coffee sesh indeed.

--

What had originally been intentions to come outside casual and no muss, no fuss, turned into a black knit oversized sweater dress, thigh-high black velvet boot stilettos, and loose curls with a full face of sharp makeup. She looks like an insta model out in the light of day instead of in her cardboard box, but it is better this way: people don’t fuck with her.

They get their coffee downtown and walk out onto the sidewalk. She has class in 30 minutes, anyway. Ellinor is holding the flyer in her hand, though it’s bent outta shape from Olivia’s wrath.

“I don’t know, Liv. It is kind of concerning that they know where your dorm is. Isn’t that a hate crime if it’s targeting a member of a targeted group?”

“Biphobia getting treated as biphobia instead of ‘free speech’ discussing sexual behavior that both straights and gays sneer at? In this economy?” Olivia slips her own shades on and shoves the forsaken paper into her bag. “And besides, my dorm is easy to find out. All they’d need is one person to see me walking in, or one person who lives in the same hall as me.”

Ellinor slurps her hot matcha latte and hands it over to her, before pulling her aviator shades down from atop her head of a loose braid crown. She slides her arm through the second shoulder strap of her backpack.

Olivia is steeping. On the surface she looks straight up pissed, which is intentional. But deep down she’s nervous. This was more than she signed up for.

“What are you going to do then? It’s obvious this has to do with you hanging out with her. This is bullshit. if I was there when those punks came into the dorm, I would have shoved my timbs so far up their pastey Jesus mayo asses that….that...gah! Just really far, okay?” Ellinor grumbles and sips as they near the corner. She hasn’t had enough caffeine yet. 

Olivia veers to the left and punches the crosswalk button. She reaches into her back searching for her keys as she spots her black mini cooper parked on the curb a block from them.

“I don’t know what the fuck to do! I feel like I’ve become this Scarlet Letter for something I haven’t even done. It’d be different if we had actually, like...did stuff. But she is so prim and…” the crosswalk signals walk, and they push onward. “She goes from this super interested and focused person to hands-off and out the door faster than I can get my eyeliner wings to match.”

Olivia walks faster as Ellinor hones in on the passenger door facing the curb. “Woah that’s...that’s pretty fast.”

“You think?” Olivia faces her over the car hood as she hits the car alarm button, making the headlights flash. She unlocks fast and eyes both ends of the street for surveilling gazes before sliding in.

“At least with Cullen...” Olivia tries to keep her conversation going while settling in, tossing her bag over her head. She slides her key into the ignition and checks her mirror. Ellinor slides her drink into the center console and pulls her seat belt. She’ll need it -- Olivia has a love of driving, and that love translates into speed and mastery of a stick shift.

“At least with Cullen, what?” Ellinor replies, dreading it already.

Olivia bites her lip and eyes her. “You know...at least…” she slumps forward against her steering wheel. “At least you know what his intentions are...I mean, were, for you. He was pursuing you. He wanted to do...to do things with you.” Her tone has gotten less spirited and more melancholy. Enough for Ellinor’s initial defensive pouty face to melt into sympathy. Though, Olivia worries if it’s less sympathy and more soreness at being reminded of what she tossed up.

Dammit, Liv, she thinks to herself. Ellinor isn’t as tough as she plays.

“Well...I think she really does like you,” Ellinor comforts after a pause, her gregarious personality trying its best to rally.

Olivia twists the key to start. The engine grinds and then starts with ease, and she clutches the stick shift with her manicured hand covered in black, dramatic rings on almost every finger.

“I know she likes me. What I meant was, like...you know.”

“You said she asked if she had another...didn’t she call it a ‘shot’ or something?”

“Yeah, but, I don’t--”

“Liv, I don’t know anyone who would ask if they could be friends with someone by asking if they had another shot. Remember how we met?”

Olivia looks at her windshield and snorts. “Yeah. You asked if I had time to talk about our Lord and Savior Gerard Way at a freshman ice cream social of all fucking places. Then I sat on my retainer.”

“Hah,” Ellinor sits back, elbow on the door. “Exactly. Not ‘Do I have a shot?’”

Ellinor, in her particular brand of eloquence, has a point. Cassandra is one of the most intentional people Olivia has ever met. She doesn’t even sneeze out of line. And she doesn’t strike Olivia as the kind of person to sit idle while the things and the people she wants float on by. But, there’s something still hanging her up on it all. An unspeakable hesitancy that comes from having one foot in and one foot out the door.

“I just wish she like...did the thing.”

“Thing? What thing?”

Olivia pulls the car into gear and puts her hands on the wheel, staring out her side mirror for oncoming traffic. “You know, like, there’s a thing queer people do when they want to drop their queerness on the radar. Say you loved the new Hayley Kiyoko single, or...shit, like, you went to Pride last summer and had a blast. Something.”

“Cassandra Pentaghast at Pride? Even if she’s 1/24th lady-lover, dude, I doubt she’d be down.”

“Yeah because that’s how it works, Ellinor,” Olivia chuckles and pulls into the lane, clutches and shifts into gear again as she accelerates. “It’s just like...okay, you know what I mean. Something. Just a little tidbit. Like...letting me go home with a fleece sweatshirt.”

She only has to side-eye her once to see Ellinor’s cheeks go deep with blush, her lips rolling shut.

Olivia raises a brow and adjusts her large, round black sunglasses. “Mhm.”

“Look, I said what I said. It was cold.”

“Fine, fine. I’m only holding off on hounding you ‘cause I know you have to see him again. I can almost see his face watching you leave with it. Ugh, good shit.”

Ellinor slaps her on the arm before grabbing her drink. “It wasn’t like that, dammit.”

“Not when you were looking it wasn’t,” Olivia continues to tease in that sultry tone. “But…’as she walked off, her figure becoming shapeless in the dark and only traceable by lamp light, I knew that she took a piece of my with her...a piece, of fleece…’”

“GOD you are HORRIBLE!” Ellinor’s laugh gets louder the longer Olivia does her act. The ‘poetry recitation’ voice Olivia does is too good, too pure even in its mortification. She laughs, too, as they turn onto the boulevard which will take them directly to campus.

“You talk a good story for a cynic,” Ellinor settles down, resting her knee against the door. The woman can’t sit right in any chair to save her life.

Olivia smirks as she turns her signal on, the car arriving at the light before the campus entrance. “My Mom had those movies on all day when I was a kid, okay. I internalized that trash in between Blue’s Clues episodes.”

“Ugh, I forgot, my bad.”

They pull in and drive past all the pretty red brick building tops, and people walking with backpacks on the sidewalks or running with shorts and tanks on. Olivia notices a jogger weaving through the pairings of people walking to class and she remembers the way Cassandra looked on the soccer fields, back when she was just a tall, dark, and beautiful stranger she could pretend was all these things. Never could she have foreseen this all unfolding, but a part of her misses when it was all a mystery. When it was a mystery, she could believe that Cassandra was for sure into girls. Now, she is attached to finding out the truth, and the truth might not be so kind.

They pull up into one of the Blue parking lots and by some miracle, someone is pulling out in time for her to snag the spot. She turns in and puts it into park.

“Tits up, girl,” Ellinor sighs, grabbing for her things as Olivia turns the key back, the engine going quiet. They both adjust their bras on cue at her word.

“You’re hiding that fleece in your backpack, aren’t you?” Olivia eyes the bag, a little swollen in shape.

Ellinor glares at her. “No.”

“Ellinor,” Olivia giggles, as she pulls her drink up out of the cupholder. “You don’t want to give it back. Admit it.”

“I admit…!” she looks away for a moment and composes herself. “I...am not the owner of this garment, and I will not be keeping it. It was borrowed. I said I would give it to him during class.”

“Mhmm,” Olivia hums again, reaching for the door. Before she does, though, Ellinor is not done with her side of questioning.

“You gonna tell her what happened?”

“Why should I? What is she gonna do, challenge all the preps to a duel on quad? It’s not gonna change anything. Don’t tell Cullen, either. I’m gonna...handle it. It’ll be fine.”

Ellinor rolls her eyes. “Look, I’m not any of your horoscope apps, but the Cassandra I saw last night staring down a guy stick up for someone she barely knows, seems like the kind of person who’d like to know if people are messing with her girl.”

The phrase ‘her girl’ makes Olivia’s stomach erupt into butterflies, and she blushes and looks away towards her window. Thank goodness for giant sunglasses.

“This isn’t High School. I’m not ‘her girl,’ I’m her friend. And a friend who could quickly turn out to be more work than she wanted to deal with when she realizes all her peers want to burn her at the stake.”

“Over my dead body,” Ellinor says, before grabbing Olivia on her forearm as she tries to get out for the car. “Hey, I mean it. If it’s not Cass, it’s me grabbing a crowbar, alright? Just say when and where to aim.”

Olivia looks back at her and her lower lip curdles. “Aw, Ellinor…” she tilts her head, “you do have affectionate emotions….?”

Ellinor quickly scoffs and pushes her. Back to normal in an instant. They get out, and Olivia locks the door. Slinging her bag on her shoulder she looks around again, slightly paranoid despite her cool exterior. No pastel polo shirts and no french braid pigtails. No woman in a black long-sleeve with pants and a pixie cut. For once, she’s relieved on both fronts, and walks with Ellinor down the way towards their respective lecture halls.

On the way, OIivia elbows her in the shoulder, a sly smile on her black lips. “Thanks, babe.”

--

Later that day --

-- Hey, you didn’t say whether you’d come with to the gala next weekend. I need confirmation!!

-- Ellinor: I can, but I’m not going to! You already have someone who can go!

-- That is the opposite of what I have! I’m not inviting her. Ughhh don’t do this to me I’ll cry.

-- Ellinor: [Kim Kardashian Tragic GIF]

-- You’re the worst. How did Cullen act when you gave back the sweater?

✓ READ AT 4:12PM

If she weren’t in the library, she would have screeched like a harpie. As it was, she was not in the place or the time to do so, so her catharsis would have to wait. She shoved her phone in her bra and goes back to collecting her arms worth of books. They aren’t for her this time -- a Professor she’s TA-ing for wanted to scan and make copies of chapters for students, and asked her to do it while they...well, do Professor things.

Such as TA’s did, and Liv being a TA as a third year undergrad was an esteemed vote of confidence she did not shirk.

She comes around the aisle she’s in and decides to cut through to the stairwell. She’s down two floors from the ground level where the checkout desk is, a level that separates the boys from the men in terms of archival dedication. She balances the six or so books of varying densities, wondering how close they are to weighing the same as her.

Around another corner and she comes upon a cluster of single-seat study desks -- you know, the kind that only libraries have, with soft wood and worn out, grey-blue upholstery. A couple heads bob up from their stationed spots at them and she pays them no mind. That is, until she sees a blonde head. Blonde, wavy head.

“C...Cullen?” she says, and is promptly shh’d by someone else. Cullen himself looks up from his desk and laptop, and grins.

“Oliv--” another shh, and he gives them a pointed stare of come on man, before pushing his chair back. “How you been?”

She bobs from foot to foot carrying the stack in both her hands. “Uh, good! Good, just, doing some TA work.”

“Oh, nice. Cassandra mentioned you TA for Professor...uh, their name esca--”

“Erickson. Professor Erickson,” she smiles. “Just for the intro to political and economic theory classes. It’s not a big thing.”  It was and is a big deal. The Political Science department has a huge group of grad students who could TA or assist courses, and they often do. Taking in an undergrad for a TA position meant that undergrad could do the work they did with Bachelor’s degrees, and sometimes even Master’s degrees, under their belt. Her parents didn’t stop talking about it like that for a month after she was invited by Erickson to fill the position. Though, they made it more pompous-sounding than she would have liked.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know. Cassandra is the only other undergrad I know who TA’s.”

“She...she TA’s?”

He looks at her and his brows go together. In a sort of, ‘yeah, of course’ kind of way. Like she was supposed to know that.

“Uh, yeah! In Philosophy, I think.” Figures. The woman breathes and spews philosophy and english lit fervor like Shakespeare has used her for a horcrux. It’s...annoying. And...wonderful.

“Ah, yeah, I think she mentioned that,” she lies, and tucks hair behind her ear while balancing the stack nervously in the other arm.

“You uh, you need help with that?” he gestures to get up, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“No, no,” she replies, smiling again. “It’s fine. I need the conditioning for dance, anyways. How is your group project going?”

He grins and looks back to his desk, blinking fast. He shouldn’t have to say, she already knows. But, it’s the kindness that counts. “Oh, yeah, it’s going good. Group projects, you know. They...they are what they are.”

“Yeah, but, at least it’s with Ellinor right? It’s always better with…” she catches herself, bits her smiling lip, and looks away too. Damn, didn’t think that one through.

“It’s better with people you know, right, I gotcha,” he finishes and puts her out of her misery. He’s a good guy -- he doesn’t let anyone hang out on a limb by themselves, even if he’s a bit awkward in his solidarity. It’s easy being in his presence despite the underlying melancholy.

“Yeah, right! Sorry, my head is fried from today. Look, don’t be a stranger. Come by anytime.” she sounds like she has a house with a picket fence and not a hole-in-the-wall dorm room. The olive branch didn’t fit the ecosystem.

He smiles crookedly and nods. “For sure. Yeah. You have a safe walk back with those books.”

“Oh you know, what’s a fall down some stairs?”

He chuckles and waves his hand casually. “Whatever you say.”

She waves back and sees herself off. A couple yards away from him and she spots the staircase, she reaches in her shoulder bag while keeping her eyes on the sign that says “TO LEVEL B,” feeling for her phone and attached headphones. The papers and pack of gum get shoved in and out, and the smooth plastic of her case finally turns up. She yanks it out before the stack of books in her hand fall apart. The sound and sensation of something falling behind her to the ground pries at the back of her head, but she ignores it -- the books are heavy, and the stairs are gonna be a pain in the ass, and that pain will pale in comparison to copying individual chapters 40 copies each.

She reaches the checkout desk after a grueling journey up two flights and through another plethora of shelf rows. While catching her breath against the desk, she checks her phone. A new message sent 15 minutes prior.

Cassandra: Hey. I’m going to be grading practice midterms Friday afternoon at my TA office in Henderson Hall. I thought maybe you would have a similar workload? Want to keep each other company?

Keep each other company. How sexy. Had she said she TA’d, and Olivia just never caught that detail? That would have been something she’d remember. Oh, wait, they were talking about course-loads at one point during a walk to classes...oh, shit, that was the day Cassandra wore a blazer and took it off as she was walking and was so smooth while doing so and...and...oh. God, Olivia is too bisexual to function.

She looks up and scans the room, her gaze out of focus while she thinks. No, she has no reason to! She can deny her this once, what, does she come at her beck and call now? She has no work to do anyw--

Her email ding goes off. It’s Professor Erickson:

Hi Olivia,

My mother is in the hospital and we are heading out of town to see her. I know it’s short notice, but could you grade the stack of bibliographies in my inbox before Monday and hand them out on that day’s class? I promised the students. Just markup for Chicago style and make sure they have the 3 required sources and 2 outside, and nothing looks iffy. I’m going to cancel Friday’s class.

I might be out until middle of next week. Monday is just a hand-back day, so don’t worry about keeping them entertained after they get their work. Play a movie, maybe. Nothing too radically bootlegged, please.

Don’t worry about the chapter copies. Those aren’t needed until next Wednesday, and if you can’t get to them I will finish what you don’t. Good job today by the way explaining to that one student the difference between socialism and democratic-socialism. You are getting more concise!

Thanks!

E

Sent from my Iphone

Professors. The nerve. They emailed on phones even when it was a long-ass message, and yet threw fits when students didn’t title their emails with anything less than an oath to name their firstborn child after them. Erickson wasn’t that bad, though. A fun guy -- a bit too into loafers -- but a fun guy, and amazing Professor. And she was getting paid, which helped.

She rolls her eyes closed and groans so deep the poor library work study student flinches. She looks at them apologetically before turning her attention back to her phone.

-- Hey. Sure, but I can’t stay very long. What time?

Cassandra: Cool, no worries. Say around 6?

-- Yeah, that works. Henderson is that long building by bio sciences, right?

Cassandra: Actually, it’s the one to the left of quad. Big archway entrance. I’ll be at my desk in 10E.

Olivia sighs. Great, a big building on quad. In front of everyone. Open season continues for her. 6:00pm on a Friday? Why that time? Surely if they were exams they were not going to be handed back over the weekend. Did Cassandra have a life that wasn’t work, sport, and more work?

-- Right, I forgot. Whoops. Okay, see you then!

Cassandra: Awesome. See you. 

Cassandra: Oh, also -- this song came up on my shuffle. It’s an old one, but it’s Adele. I would appreciate if you listened to it. I think you’d like it.

Another chance for a ‘sign’ thwarted. As promised, she sends the link to a song and it is, in fact, Adele. Adele. Olivia pouts to herself. Adele is a beautiful singer, but her songs tend to sound the same to her sometimes. One of those ‘you listen to one, you listen to them all,’ kinda deals. The song is entitled “Water Under The Bridge.” Olivia had hoped it would at least be one of the romantic ones, but it hardly sounds like a profession of love or crushing. Her frustration continues to grow in her mind, and she clicks her phone to lock. 

“Alright, Ma’am, that’s it! They’re due back October 7th!” The woman on the other side of the table shoves the plastic bag of books. What a blessing to have them in a bag. She smiles, says thanks, and heads out the door into the open air of dusk. As she walks back to Jefferson Hall a few minutes away, she can’t help but look over her shoulder ever so often, hand clutching her keys in her bag. But, no one approaches or even appears, and as she gets in the door to her own academic building, it feels like it’s all in her head.

It’ll blow over. No big deal. Just have to pretend it doesn’t bother me.

She gets into the elevator and hits the #3. Thankfully, she, too, has an office to hull up in.

[the-mf-bread-babies]

20/6/20

× REBUILD III ×

+ RUNAWAY RENEGADES +

[ COLLECTION I ]

“backstories”

∆ VOLUME TWO ∆

“Odd Beginnings”

· PART ONE ·

———————————————————

CHAPTER ONE

DINER DATE

It was a rainy night. The clock inside the diner probably hadn't been fixed in decades, which only made time pass more slower for Jason. Jason Aronowitz Watanabe, 16 years old, was waiting for his first date to arrive at the restaurant. His mother and father were sitting in front of him, eagerly awaiting for her too. Among all the excuses the two had speculated, the son had grown tired and realized that maybe he didn't want to do this in the first place.

Jason stared at the unmoving clock, the sound of rain pattering filling his ears. God, it would be such a good time to sleep right now. “Honey, she's probably stuck in traffic,” said Judy, his mother. She spent hours to do her hair, makeup, and outfit. This might have been her son's date, but her and her husband's was going to take place as soon as the girl had arrived, and it was ten times more grand than Jason's. They had a reservation at Chili's.

Hisashi Watanabe, Jason's father, kept his eyes focused on the road outside. Maybe this was her. No, then that one. Also no. Well, hopefully Jason's not getting pranked or whatever. Oh, that's a cool truck. Bye, cool truck. Damn, that reservation's probably busted by now. So long, paradise pie. Two hours to get here and both dates are probably cancelled by now. Jason looks sad. Actually, he always does, it's understandable, but this time's sadder than usual.

“Jason, look outside!” The father whispered excitedly, pointing out the window. “Whatever. I wanna go home.” Jason grumbled angrily, his voice slightly cracking either from crying or just puberty. “Sorry, just… a limo,” Hisashi uttered quietly. “We can order something if you want,” Judy suggested, awkwardly smiling, her big sunglasses shielding the intense mix of emotions she was feeling– anger, disappointment, sadness. Also, hunger.

“Mm,” Jason replied cryptically. “Waiter! Can I get a menu, please?” Judy yelled out, startling the two men. She ordered something, her voice being reduced to mumbles by Jason zoning out, eyes fixated on the table. “Sweetie, do you want a milkshake? They have cookies and cream,” His mother asked, gaining back his attention. “Um, okay, sure.” Jason answered, giving his mother and the waiter a polite smile. “Thank you.” He went back to zoning out.

His parents were having a conversation about something unimportant, and the restaurant was awfully ambient. There was a jukebox, but that, too, was broken. This seemed like an appropriate situation for the boy to get distracted from everything and daydream. Damn, it would be so cool if he could play the drums. Ah, to be a transformer. Imagine going to have a heart transplant surgery, and Gerard says, “Babe, it's okay,” and then when it's done you ask the nurse who gave you the heart and she replies, “Frank Iero,” and you and the other three remaining members go get pizza or whatever. Poor Frank. Was that a bell ringing. Oh, to be a lamb in a field, eating grass. Ew, imagine eating grass…

HELLO.

A shadowy figure towered over Jason threateningly, katakana surrounding her. Who the hell is this?

“Do you need money?” Judy asked quietly, counting some dollar bills, thinking this was some random person. “Yeah!” She shouted excitedly. “Gimme five hundred thousand dollars, stat!” Jason's face turned to the girl. Her shirt read “TACO,” with an image of a cartoon taco below it. Cloaking the ugly t-shirt was a blue jacket that seemed quite old and vintage. Well, at least her outfit is matching. “Um… are you…” he asked the girl.

“Your date for tonight, partner!” Oh, she has braces. Yeah, seemed like a braces person. “Awesome! Now you two don't do any funny business, okay?” Jason's dad stated, pointing. “Dad, what.” “Well, off to visit your mother!” He added, his arm around Judy, the two scooting out of the seat to make room for the girl. “Cool! Your dad knows TF2?” The girl said, her face sparking up in joy. “I was an animator for the shorts,” Hisashi revealed, much to the girl's excitement. “HOLY SHIT!!! CAN I GET AN AUTOGRAPH?!” She yelled out, turning the heads of some people in the diner. “Sure thing,” he answered, signing a napkin. “Okay, bye, you two,”

Jason's eyes met the girl's, realising he forgot what her name was. Um… well, her brother's a senior, right? Tony… Tony Blenderson… Bender… Flanders… Uh… “Hi! You're Jason, right? From History?” She asked, raising his fear more. How did he even agree to this in the first place? Oh, right, their moms are friends. “Um, yeah, and you're…” Oh God. Grave mistake. “Man, I don't know! Most people just call me by my last name. First names are boring, you get me?” She confessed, calming him down slightly. “Oh, uh… yeah! Uh, so I can call you…” “Anytime!” She added confidently. “Huh?” Jason said, confused. “Henderson, man! Hendersonville is actually an actual place, by the way! Could you BELIEVE IT?!” Jason awkwardly agreed, not knowing what to do. “Yeah… like Disneyland or something…”

The conversation went on, with the occasional text from Jason's parents. “So then I was all like, I know karate, you dumbass,” she started, Jason trying his best to understand what the hell she was talking about. “And this stupid little goat starts headbutting me, and I'm bleeding and stuff, obviously, keep in mind I had a hamburger, that's important, okay,” The boy nodded his head along. “So, yeah, that was how gender equality is. Yeah, zoos are dumb, they're bad,” “Yeah, like, it's not good for them and stuff,” Jason said, finally having some material for the conversation.

He paused for a bit, unsure if the other was going to add anything. “So, uh, what do you do? Like, um, in general, yeah,” he asked, sipping his milkshake. “Kill people.” She blurted. “Okay. I like collecting stamps.” He replied jokingly. “HAH! God, what a riot you are! Oh boy, STAMPS!!!” Henderson laughed exaggeratedly, thinking it sounded natural, and possibly cute. “Yeah…?” “Yeah, not real people, but like, I play video games a lot. You ever play Slime Rancher? I've got six thousand days on that guy.” She confessed seriously, crossing her arms. “Also, used to play Overwatch, but that was so last rebuild. Now, in this one, I prefer Garden Warfare. You know, the FPS Plants vs. Zombies game?” She casually added, Jason sending his usual confused nodding and raised eyebrows with a slightly opened mouth as a reply.

Jason thought for a bit. “I play Apex,” He said disappointedly. “Oh, didn't it end because of that big rapper guy? Marshmello? Yeah. Sorry, dude.” Henderson comforted. “Um. I guess?” Jason ate the Oreo on top of the milkshake. “Yeah, and I also listen to emo stuff. I was born in the wrong generation.” He said, stirring the drink. “Oh, like PSY? Yeah, my old neighbor listened to him.” .. huh. “Um… yeah, and like, MGR and stuff…” “Cool! What's that stand for, again? My cousin listens to Chaos! in the Gathering, Nuclear Lad, thirty three tailors, so I know emo.” Henderson bragged. “Oh, it stands for My Geological Rocks! It's because they're pretty rock, and one of them saw this book where the title was ‘Geological Rocks’ or whatever, so they named the band that.” He explained truthfully. “ Oh ! That's Dumb ! ” She blatantly said, her hand loosely swinging a spoon.

“Oh, shit, you don't have food. Um, do you want some?” Jason realized, offering Henderson the scraps of his milkshake. “Nope! Lactose intolerance, baby!” She confessed, a hint of sadness present in her face. “Oh. Sorry,” He said as he slurped up the remains quite loudly. “Should I ask them for a menu?” Jason asked, clearly not wanting to do so. “I ate a toasted toast sandwich earlier, so I'm not really hungry.” “A toasted toast sandwich is a piece of toast slotted between two other pieces of toasted bread. With butter spread on some of them.” Henderson explained in detail. “Is it good?” Jason asked fearfully. “Duh,” she said. “Oh, okay,”

The two sat in silence. The room was quiet, even the chattering of the other customers were gone. Henderson waited patiently for a waiter to come by, her face staring at the table. “That's a weird stain.” She uttered, poking hesitantly at it. “Probably tea.” Jason added, looking at the stain. “Yeah,” Henderson agreed, resting her head on the table. They stared at the stain for some time. “So, uh, you like Jar-Jar’s Odd Journey?” Henderson asked, looking up at the other. “No, I don't watch anime,” he replied, prying at the stain with his fingernail. “Oh, okay. But like, do you like Jar-Jar’s?” Jason paused, looking at her and squinting his eyes, thinking what she was meaning to hint, then slowly realising it. “Well, do you like Power Princesses? With the cat lady and the other lady?” He asked slyly, smiling from ear to ear. “Yeah… literally and…” Henderson inspected Jason's jeans. “metaphorically… you know…” Jason inspected hers too. They both cuffed them, even though Henderson's were already a good length, now a bit too short, resulting in a very prominent hint. “So yes, I do watch Jar-Jar, then,” he replied. They nodded, smiling in Mystery.

“So, why'd you even agree to this?” Jason asked, facing her. “I dunno. Felt rebellious to steal my sister's date, I guess.” Jason leaned back in his seat, blinking interestedly. “So, if it weren't for you meddling fool, I would've gone on a date with a CRSCO girl, huh?” “Sksksksks and I oop,” Jason questioned dramatically. “Yes. That's actually why I'm late; I drove here by myself.” Henderson confessed, smirking. “And I knew I wouldn't like this date if it was at some fancy restaurant, so I picked somewhere I could eat, hence why the location is so unsuitable.” “The distance, especially. That was so my family couldn't track me down.” “As if they'd care.” Henderson folded her hands together on the table and put her head down and stared at them, her hair swinging dramatically in front of her.

“Well that's bad. And bad… ass,” Jake stated, tilting his head awkwardly. “Like, your family, that's bad, like, your brother's a… he's not nice, necessarily, but you stealing a date from your sister and driving to some random-ass diner in the middle of nowhere, that's some Gone Girl shit.” he explained, eyes burning with awe.

“I mean, I've had some friends from band that met your sister, and from what I've heard, and I'm sorry for being nosy, but, I mean, it really justifies this whole… thing. So, uh, yeah. Sorry,” Jason continued as Henderson moved her Orbs to meet his.

“So, how'd it feel to set her room on fire? Were the firefighters and shit? Again, sorry for being nosy.” Jason asked casually, doing his first attempt at the three-paragraph thing. Henderson giggled uncontrollably, wiping tears off of her Orbs. “Wha– FIRE?! Who told you that? I only just threw some of her stuff out the window, but SETTING IT ON FIRE WAS NOT PART OF THE PLAN, JASON!!” Jason sat up, stammering in response. “B-But, um, like, uh, Tristan, from band, the school band, said that– you, uh, like, it was midnight, and he woke up because of all the sirens, and– yeah.” Jason explained, his voice nervously loud, and his hands gesturing wildly. “Oh!” she yelled out, remembering the experience.

“That was the time I tried modifying the hell outta french fries and I set the kitchen on fire! Like, I was pouring the fries in, then the fire just shot up, like, ten feet, and my hair almost caught on fire, the smoke alarm was ringing, it was hell, man, hell,” Henderson explained excitedly. “So, yeah, someone called the fire station, next thing I know, I'm getting yelled at severely, and I can't play video games or go on my phone for three weeks!” Jason nodded in awe. “How did you… mod… fries?” He asked in confusion, rubbing his chin. “Oh, I put olive oil, safflower oil, cooking oil, and corn oil, also I used a flat frying pan, put in two brands of fries, made sure it wasn't overcrowded, also put a thick layer of seasoning on the pan and I folded it like scrambled eggs.”

“So yeah, a literal recipe for disaster. Never doing that again.” Henderson stated, although she was most definitely going to make the same mistake in a few years with Rachel. “Ah. I see. Why the flat frying pan?” Jason asked. “Oh, the other pans were in the sink and I was lazy.” She replied, making a disappointed face. “also i'm pretty sure that it caused the oil to like. yknow. vooooshhhhh” Henderson added, sinking her face into her hands.

Jason thought of a more embarrassing moment. “Wanna know that time I went to the ER because I was too goth?” “Wait, two times! One, I ate black lipstick, the other, I got choked by a…” Jason sunk his head down. “homemade e-boy necklace…” Henderson cackled loudly, slapping the table. “How the hell do you get choked by that?!” Jason pursed his lips sadly. “I was wearing the necklace first and put it on backwards, big mistake, it had a really heavy padlock, then my binder, which was way too tight, so it was choking me, but I was wearing my turtleneck, and my arms were stuck, so I just smacked the dresser violently.” “And that's how I came out to my parents.” Jason said, smirking and crossing his arms together. “Thankfully, they let me buy a better one that didn't, like, kill me.” He added.

Henderson's jaw was hanging open in surprise. “You're trans too?!” Jason pogged in response, “TOO?!” The two shared a very intense and complicated series of high-fives and fistbumps, screaming in joy. “Man, so this is why you stole that dumbass’ date!” “Solidarity!” Jason stated, smiling. “Thanks for saving me, uh…” He paused, waiting for a confirmation. “Uh… I dunno. Girl?” Henderson replied, shrugging. “Girl! I am Dude!” Jason shouted, giving her a thumbs-up. “Cool! Hi Dude!” She yelled out, earning a very strong high-five from Jason. “Hell Yeah !!!!!!!!”

“Man, you want something to celebrate? This shit's nice as hell.” Jason asked, visibly in a better mood than before. “To hell with it! Cheesy Frickin’ Fries for the lady!” Henderson shouted in joy. “And for the man?” Jason thought for a bit. “Truck” he uttered, giving her an emotional gaze. Get it? Gaze? “Ah, okay. Truck it is, then,” Henderson confirmed before raising her head to get the waiter's attention.

“Waiter ain't here. Should I? Go to the counter?” She asked, pointing to the front of the diner. Jason nodded in response. Henderson approached the counter, her hands in her pockets, her eyes looking around. There was not a single person to be seen, the pies sitting on the rack softly, asking to be stolen and devoured. “Be… do…” she whispered softly, her hand reaching to the pies, only to be stopped by the other one. Disappointed, she went back to Jason, frowning.

“God hates us.” She uttered, her head pointing up. “No one at the counter, no one near the entrance, so no friggin’ cheese fries.” She grumbled, “Drove five friggin’ hours in the friggin’ rain just for this dumbass shit. Can't even have the friggin’ pies, that's illegal,” Jason looked at her sadly. “Hey, it's okay, I brought snacks,” He pulled out a packet of chips from his hoodie pocket. “Here's the fries…” Jason placed a slightly melted cheese slice onto the table. “And here's the cheese!” “Hipster, innit? All deconstructed an’ stuff,” He said happily, swinging his arm a la Grunkle Stan.

“What a gentleman. Thank you, Jarnathan Jarstar, my brother,” Henderson said gratefully, unwrapping the cheese slice packet. “Good job, uh, Catra,” Jason commented, opening the chips packet. As they dined happily, a tall, scary figure approached them slowly and murderously.

“Ya can't bring outside food in here.”

“It's against the rules, kiddos.”

“Might getcha banned fer life if yer not careful enough.”

“Aah!!” Jason screamed quietly. The figure revealed itself under the illumination of the ceiling lights— a man, presumably middle-aged, dressed in a cheap chicken costume, donning a knight helmet. “You wouldn't make the cut. Ya just wouldn't.” The man uttered cryptically, confusing the two. Was this weirdo the mascot or just some guy? “I have pepper spray, creep.” Henderson threatened, pointing the self-defence tool at the costumed man. “Like that'll do anythin’.” He pointed out, glaring at the girl.

In response, Jason pushed the man, Henderson following suit by vigorously kicking the life out of him. Blood oozed out of the now-stained costume as he begged for help, trying his best to explain the current situation. “Stop! Please stop!” He yelled out, only for the helmet to be removed by Henderson, who was ready to punch the hell outta him.

Some balding white guy sporting bad facial hair had been the culprit all along. Jason pulled the remains of his hair and threw him to the floor, yelling. Out of the blue, a group of people showed up, coming to the rescue and pulling them apart from each other. “Whose idea was to be threatening again?!” The man in the chicken costume yelled out, clearly angry at all of them. “Run!” Henderson shouted, grabbing the snacks and dragging Jason out of the diner, only to be chased down by the others.

“Who the hell was that guy?!” Jason yelled, running. “I may be weird, but I definitely don't know that guy, and definitely not enough for him to just show up like that!” Henderson shouted back, confused. “Guess it's some weird kidnapper, then? Or a really odd mascot.” Jason said, dashing around the street corner. “Probably!” Henderson ran past Jason. “Hey, wait up! I was kicked outta the track team for a reason, Henderson!” The boy yelled, running out of breath. The girl went back to him, feeling a bit guilty.

“I, uh, have asthma.” Jason said, pulling out his inhaler. “Oh, um, I'm, uh, really, really, sorry.” Henderson nervously apologized, her mind wondering what would happen if Jason died right then and there. Oh, she'd definitely have to go to court. Maybe it'll be like Legally Blonde. Jason stood back up, gesturing to Henderson to keep going. “Hey, I'm okay, go ahead.” “You can leave me here if you want. Death isn't a big concern for me; I'll meet all the MGR members, then when I go to hell I can punch Brendon Urie in the face…” Jason struggled out. “… because he's like, racist,” “Bob Bryar too, man,” Henderson nodded slowly, not knowing what the hell kinda emo thing he was referencing.

Jason looked behind Henderson, surprised. “Hhhh… they're not killing us…” he tried out, pointing to her back. “Oh, hey, yeah. Let's go hide somewhere.” Henderson suggested, looking around for a good shelter. “I'm gonna tell this to my parents first…” Jason said, moving down to sit on the ground. “Oh, man. There's no reception here.” He revealed, getting more and more scared with every second they stayed there, the possibility of them being caught and killed or whatever growing steadily.

“I mean, we are in Ohio, Jason. There's a bigger chance of us stumbling into a big-ass cornfield than us getting reception in some super rural town like this.” Henderson sighed. “This place is called Van Wert, Jay. How friggin’ hillbilly is that? Van Wurrrtt, yee-haw,” She commented angrily. Jason took a deep breath and stood back up, scanning the horizon.

“Well, hard to find a place where we won't get shot immediately when entering, especially at this hour. I mean, gun store, bar, creepy pharmacy, another gun store, mom and pop, mom and pop's gun store, shooting range, farmer's market, café (with a rifle under the counter), barbershop, ranch–” Henderson smiled from ear to ear as she heard what Jason just said. “RANCH?! WITH HORSES?!”

tob e fucketh continue

a uhhh Notes by Rocco Wulfram North

oh that names so epic omg

[alwaysbemymaybe-phff]

Chapter 18

Good Morning Bones

“Security had already rid of the press.” Prince Seeiso assured while him and Prince Harry talked inside his office.

 Prince Harry started talking about further developments needed to be done to Sentebale when they were cut off by one of the nurses from the clinic knocking on the door. “Ah, dear Bona.” Prince Seeiso greeted with a smile but it is quickly wiped off his face when he took a read on Bona’s expression. “What is it?”

 Bona, the nurse, came in the room giving Prince Harry a brief curtsy. “Something happened in the clinic.”

 “What is it?” Prince Seeiso repeated wanting the nurse to be more precise.

 The nurse gave out a huge breath, “Doctor Isabella fainted- doctor Mike is currently trying to do CPR.”

It’s not because of his duty- or his need to protect everyone around him but Harry bolted out of the office before the nurse can continue. He ran. He ran as fast as he could bumping on a few people and almost tripping on a step- he couldn’t care less if there are still photographers lurking around. He needed to get to her. When he reached the clinic, one of the nurses quickly pointed to where Bella is without question. He came inside one of the make-shift rooms and saw Bella sitting on the gurney popping pills inside her mouth before accepting the water Mike is holding out for her. He can hear Doctor Mike whisper and asking repeatedly if Bella is feeling better or if anything still hurting.

 Silently, he studied her. Bella’s hand shook as she took a drink from the bottle while the other one rested on top of her chest clutching her white shirt tightly. Her face is unusually pale- sickly pale. And for a while, he wondered if he had missed something about her.

 Mike noticed Harry by the door, “Your Royal Highness.” He greeted and walked over to the prince.

 “What happened?” Prince Harry asked wanting so much to go near Bella and hug her.

 Noticing the look Harry is giving Bella, Mike gave the prince a smile and lied, “She was just stressed out. She was hounded by the press on the way here.”

 And still, Harry tried to catch Bella’s eye to no avail. He wanted to hear her talk but all he could see coming out of her mouth are shallow breaths. Something is wrong. He thought before passing by Mike and making his way towards Bella. “Are you alright?” he asked her directly and she couldn’t look at him when she nodded- she couldn’t even utter a ‘yes’.

 “I believe it would be best if we give her space.” Mike said from behind Harry.

 Prince Harry made his way back towards the main headquarters slowly- his mind in a havoc. It’s not typical Bella to act like that- he had never seen Bella look that sickly pale- or it’s not normal for a person who just fainted due to stress to act like her heart is hurting inside her chest. And inside his head, he raked upon memories he has with Bella trying to find a possible explanation until he started remembering her oddities.

 Suddenly, memories flooded his mind. He remembered how he noticed her sit on a rock catching her breath when they climbed up the mountains on her first time in Sentebale then into the time when she suddenly halted from running in Thailand- her breath catching up to her throat and then her telling him that she hadn’t done her cardio in a while. But the most recent memory he had is the pills on her table.

 She’s sick? He thought stopping in the middle of a hallway inside the headquarters. No. She can’t be. But still, no matter how hard he denies it, he couldn’t shake the thought off. He quickly went back to his own bedroom and grabbed his phone from the top of his dresser and dialing Troy’s number.

 “Your Royal Highness?” Troy answered from the other end of the line.

 “I need you to do something for me.” Harry told Troy straightaway and he didn’t let his secretary say anything else before saying, “I need you to look at Bella’s medical file for me.”

 “I don’t have that with me nor can I obtain that without breaking a lot of rules, Your Royal Highness.”

 “Just do it!”

 Mike walked Bella back to her room after she had settled. Both are quiet as they walked side by side, both too shocked of the events moments ago to even talk. “Are you ok?” Bella suddenly asked Mike and she tilted her head up to look at Mike. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

 “Don’t be silly.” Mike said shaking his head. “I’m just glad you didn’t die in my care.”

 Bella smiled, “I didn’t.” she said before breathing in deeply.

 “I think you should consider surgery.” Mike then said seriously stopping and grabbing Bella’s arm softly making her stop as well. “It’s just not right..” he trailed off.

 “Which is?”

 “This. You being sick. You dying. I cannot find anything right about it.” He shook his head. “You’re like a sister to me, Bella. Maybe the surgery will work- maybe you get the 40% and live longer. As a doctor, don’t you have faith on that 40%?”

 But it’s not just that. As a doctor, Bella trusts other doctors completely. She knows that Doctor West will do everything in his power for her to survive the surgery. But, there are things in life that cannot be controlled. She’s scared of her own body. She doesn’t know if her body can handle the surgery. There’s a 60% chance of her not waking up from the surgery or her even dying during surgery.

 It’s not as if you have something to lose. She thought that late afternoon as she sat in her room staring at the letter of apology that she’s about to give Prince Seeiso. Bella intended on going home the next morning; she figured that Sentebale had been too much for her the past days and that she needs to go home and have a talk with her parents. She realized that she needed people to support her- to help her through it.

 Finally, she signed the bottom of the paper with her name and signature. It’s not as if Harry would mind  if I leave. She thought standing up from her seat and making her way towards Prince Seeiso’s office.

 Early the next morning, Harry is woken up by the incessant ringing of his phone. He groaned as he looked at the screen wishing that it’s not Meghan calling him so early in the morning. “Troy.” He answered his phone groggily.

 “I have the information you asked for.”

 Harry sat up on his bed, swinging his feet to the floor. “What is it?” he asked and he heard his secretary sigh from the other end of the line. “Troy?”

 “Doctor Clarke is suffering from a heart condition called Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy.” Troy said slowly and Harry, unaware of such sickness, remained quiet. “Sir?”

 “It’s curable, right? She’ll be fine?” he asked finally and, this time, his secretary became quiet. “Troy.”

 Troy sighed, “It’s a severe case.” He said reluctantly and Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach and his world slowed as Troy continued. “She’s dying.”

 “How did she-” Harry stopped what he’s about to say.

 “As I had obtained from Doctor Gerard Clarke last night; her trip to San Diego was to meet her doctor.” Troy started. “Her hospitalization after your trip to Thailand was because she had an attack at her home. She faints when she has an attack- well, technically, her heart stops for seconds causing for her to lose consciousness. They had been able to control it but attacks can sometimes lead to death if not prevented.”

 Harry couldn’t speak nor could he react. It felt like his soul was sucked out of his body as everything suddenly fell into place- how her oddness at times are suddenly not odd, how her confusing words of living life to the fullest before she dies is not just another metaphor but a reality, and how she wanted to get things off her bucket list done. He let out a huge breath and hangs up his phone without saying another word to Troy.

 She’s dying. He thought and, still, his mind couldn’t process it.

 “FUCK!” he yelled angrily and both his hands shot up and grabbed his hair- gripping it- his breathing heavy as he felt like his world is crashing down around him.

 “You and I, we’re not going to work.” Her voice replayed inside his head as he walked his way towards Bella’s clinic. “Meghan will be there for you through thick and thin. She’ll stay beside you and live happily for a long time. I can’t promise you the same.” And suddenly, he knew why she didn’t want him to break up with Meghan. He realized why she believed that she couldn’t be with him and why it won’t work out or why she didn’t want to even try.

 When he got inside the clinic, the nurses looked at him confused but he didn’t care. Harry trudged towards what he knew as Bella’s space and when he arrived, he saw her table cleared out. It was obvious that she’s not in the clinic and Harry thought that maybe she’s still in her room back at the headquarters but he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulders- he turned and saw Doctor Mike with a smile on his face.

 “Your Royal Highness.” Doctor Mike greeted Harry. ���What can I do for you?”

 “Where is she?” the prince asked and Doctor Mike sighed.

 Harry watched as the doctor closed the door of Bella’s supposed clinic.

 “She left for England this early morning.” Mike answered Harry’s question. Both men silently stood inside the room looking at each other thinking of various things. Harry thought of the reason why Bella would leave so abruptly while Mike studied Harry’s stance carefully.

 Harry then blinked and asked, “Did you know? About her being sick?”

 And it struck Mike like a lightning. How did he know? He asked himself keeping his mouth shut but he saw the determination written across Harry’s face. Sighing, he nodded making Harry give out a huge breath. “I’ve only known a day ago.”

 The prince sat down on the chair by Bella’s old table breathing in and out deeply- trying to calm himself. “How did you not know sooner? You two are together..” he trailed off and then he whimpered shaking his head. “You two pretended that you were together.” He said in realization and he watched Mike give him a painful smile and a nod. Harry felt helpless; he felt utterly stupid that he hadn’t realized it sooner. How he didn’t notice the signs- her signs. And I retaliated to their supposed relationship by asking to marry Meghan. He thought. You hurt her too much, Harry.

 Mike watched the prince try to remain collected. He watched the realization on his face turn into pain multiple times and he sighed, feeling sad. The two are like a modern Romeo and Juliet. He thought sullenly.

 “I need to talk to her.” Harry then stood mumbling under his breath. “I need to see her.”

 “Harry, please.” Mike pleaded touching Harry’s shoulder and the prince looked at him- teary eyes wide. “Let her go.” He whispered and as much as he knows that Bella and Harry loved each other too much- he knows that Harry’s current situation is going to be too much for Bella. “You just got engaged.. The press will kill Bella to a point. Please don’t drag her into your mess.”

 And then, Harry remembered the effects of what chasing Bella and suddenly breaking up with Meghan would bring. The press, the public, and his family are all going to disagree and paint Bella as a bad woman who stole him away from Meghan. He shrugged off Mike’s hand off his shoulder and stormed past him.

 I need to protect her.

[stereksummerexchange]

Stay For Awhile Now

@alecisgay | AO3 - I really hope you enjoy this and love it! Also I hope you have a super rad summer, and read many good fics!

by @lydiacamille-grace

When Stiles got home from work one Thursday, it was to see Derek sitting on the front porch steps with a thick file in his hands. He didn't look up when Stiles parked, he grabbed his bag and headed towards his husband.

He stopped in front of Derek, who still hadn't looked up. Stiles pulled the file out of Derek's hands watching as his hands were free from the file, fall loosely between his thighs, head still bent down avoiding Stiles gaze. Shoulders stiff, and feet planted on the step below where he was sitting, so if he stood he would have a quick escape.

Stiles ran his fingers through Derek hair once, opting not to question him, and opened the folder. Stiles almost dropped them. They were adoption papers. They had applied months ago and only to this orphanage, it was an orphanage for supernaturals run by supernaturals. Of course it was hard to find, they weren't even sure if it existed, but they finally found it and applied to adopt. They hadn't told the rest of the pack. They didn't want to get their hopes up, but now they would.

Stiles sat on the stop beneath Derek, between his legs and leaned back, “Were doing this” he breathed, excited and scared and so unsure, what if their kid turned out like Jackson?

“We are” Derek said back, hands moving up and down Stiles arms. Stiles relaxed and started looking through the folder. They got to pick the child, baby of not, and there was a file for each werewolf at the orphanage. Derek read over his shoulder before stopping him on one page. A girl, 6 years old. Who went by the name Aislinn. She had auburn hair and green eyes,she had fair skin with many freckles dotting her face. Her family had died in a fire. She had been the only one to escape. It wasn't a house fire nor was it set by hunters, so they thought. Her family died on a full moon run, she was 4 at the time, they had a plot of all sorts of wolfsbane for their emissary and we're lounging beside it when it caught fire. Their emissary tried to stop it but couldn't.

Once they read her file they decided on her. She was going to be theirs.

×××

They night when the pack arrived, they told them. Lydia, Erica and Allison were excited but calmed down when Stiles told them her story. Scott and Isaac were a bit apprehensive of a bringing a child into their world, but Beacon Hills had been quiet for years, the nemeton had sorted it's shit out and stopped drawing supernaturals to BH and accepted the pack. Boyd looked indifferent, but Stiles kept an eye on him and saw the small smile on his face every now and then. Jackson, naturally, was the one who had the most to say.

“Let her know that even though she's adopted you love her.”

“Tell her just because she's adopted doesn't mean you love her any less.”

“Don't keep her adoption a secret.”

“Don't show her you love her by showering her in money.”

“Try and find something out about her family so she’ll always know who they were.”

“ Don't let her believe that her family abandoned her.”

“If she asks why you chose her, don't lie, tell her the truth.”

Jackson sat back, wrapping an arm around Lydia. Allison gave him a small smile reaching around Lydia to squeeze his knee. Allison hadn't been in the pack in high school, dropping all contact with them after her mom and Gerard died, leaving Isaac and Stiles to pick up the pieces of Scott's broken heart. He got better but didn't get into a relationship till his senior year, with the person they didn't expect but should've. Isaac. They worked together so well. Where Scott was too trusting, Isaac was wary, where Isaac was too harsh on everyone, Scott was there to smooth the edges. Lydia and Jackson didn't get back together until they all finished collage. They didn't want to do long distance and wanted to grow into the people they were supposed to be without each other. They both dated but those relationships never lasted. Erica and Boyd stayed together, they never broke up.

Still and Derek didn't get together until Stiles first year of college. They had become close friends and Lydia got sick of them complaining about missing each other, so she forced Derek to go see Stiles. At first it was awkward but then it was great, and then it was awkward again when Stiles roommate, Tom, assumed they were a couple. At the end of the weekend Derek left, but he was back the next to ask Stiles on a date, and they went from there, and 7 years later they were still together with a stable life and about to adopt a child.

Lydia got her Fields Medal in her third year at MIT. Erica, Boyd and Isaac started their own business, a coffee shop/bookstore. Scott went to UC Davis for veterinary. Jackson become a lawyer, well studied to be a lawyer but then got into a argument with his parents and bribed Derek to go back to school and finish his architecture degree. They owned their own building business and were the best in BH. And stiles, well everyone, including his dad, expected him to go into the academy and work as a deputy. He shocked them all when he went and studied to be a history teacher. Allison came to them in their second year of college. Her dad had gotten on the wrong side of some wolves and was dead. Allison was scared and didn't know who to turn to, but she got in touch with Lydia who directed her to Derek and got his help. She became part of the pack as a trial to get the wolves who killed her dad off her back, but she was still here 6 years later.

×××

The first visit they would have with Aislinn was at the orphanage. Stiles was driving because Derek almost broke the steering wheel. Stiles wasn't any better. His heart was pounding so hard he was scared it might break a rib, his hands were tapping against the wheel, along to no beat because the music was annoying Derek. Dereks hand was resting on the back of Stiles neck, playing with the hairs. It was a relaxing gesture to both of them.

Stiles pulled into the park labelled “Visitor”. Derek jumped out, but Stiles took a few deep breathes to calm himself as not to have a panic attack. Derek opened his door when he realised stiles was ready. Stiles joined this hands and clinged on tightly. Mrs Anne, the head of the orphanage, greeted them at the door.

“Mr. Hale, Mr. Stilinski. It's nice to meet you.” She said her tone authoritative and strong. She held a hand out to each, shaking with a firm grip.

“It's nice to meet you too Mrs Anne” Derek grunts.

Stiles squeezed Derek's hand once before grinning brightly at Mrs Anne, “We’re very excited to be here.”

Mrs Anne inhales for a long moment, a clear werewolf move. She must've approved what the got from their chemo signals because she waved them in and ordered them to follow her.

As they walk down the hallway, kids run from room to room. Some kids on all fours, some just a blur, some who dance and sing, some who emit sparks and others who drip water. Stiles was enthralled and Derek had to pull him along so he didn't try and adopt all of them. It's likely. He once did the same with a litter of kittens that Scott helped to deliver when they were 18.

Mrs Anne leads them to a playroom. Kids of all ages were telling and laughing. Aislinn was in the middle of it. Running and laughing, face red and smile wide. Stiles smiled at the sight of her as did Derek. Derek placed his hand at Stiles back as Mrs Anne walked to get aislinn. Derek did nothing when Aislinn eyes them. Mrs Anne led her over to them. She kneeled down to Aislinn's height to introduce them.

“Aislinn, this is Derek and Stiles, they wanted to meet you.”

Stiles smiled down at her, “Hi Aislinn, I’ve heard been looking forward to meeting you.”

Aislinn smiles lightly back and nods her head, hands clasped in front of her and rocking on her heels.

Derek went down on his knees in front of her. He offered his hand and after and few moments of hesitation her small hand took his a serious look on her face.

“It's nice to meet you Mr Derek and Mr Stiles”

“It's nice to meet you too Miss Aislinn”

Aislinn turns a little red and ducks her head a blinding smile on her face.

They spent an hour talking to Aislinn. They found out that she's loved to draw and paint but isn't very good. Her favourite colour is green because it reminded her of the forest. She loved cats but they hate her because she's a wolf. And her favourite food is lasagne.

When the hour is up Aislinn gives them both a tight hug and whispers that she hopes to see them again.

Stiles leaves the orphanage with tears in his eyes but a spring in his step. Derek follows after talking to mrs anne, his face soft and eyes shining.

×××

That night in bed Derek whispers, “We’ll bring her home, I swear we will.”

“I know” Stiles mumbles, content.

×××

Their second visit with Aislinn is at the local park in Beacon Hills. It's a warm day, Derek has a t-shirt and shorts on, Stiles has shorts and a t-shirt with a flannel over top. Lydia and Erica would kill him for the combination, but he didn't care.

Aislinn shows up leading Mrs Anne behind her. She's wearing a light green dress and her hair in pigtails. She runs to give Derek a hug who squeezes her tight. She does the same to Stiles, who picks her up and swings her around, laughter ringing from her mouth.

They have two hours together most of it is spent at the park, with Mrs Anne watching on. She takes notes as they play.

Derek would chase her laughing as she squeals. They both team up on Stiles making him almost piss himself from laughter. Aislinn and Stiles pay on the playground, Stiles teaches her how to do the monkey bars while Derek cheers on and she excels at it of course. They play a game of hide and seek, with Derek winning the cheater that he is.

Stiles sees the ice cream truck and runs towards it with Aislinn giving chase and Derek behind her. Derek beats them to the truck. Aislinn is unsure about getting one but Derek convinces her, she gets a cookie dough ice cream, Derek gets chocolate which Stiles of course has to make dog jokes about. And Stiles gets chocolate mint.

Before they know it Mrs Anne is telling them it's time to go. Aislinn gets tears in her eyes as does Stiles, who assures hert that they’ll see her again, soon. She held onto Derek tightly, tears sliding free. Derek kisses her forehead while mumbling something to her that Stiles doesn't catch.

×××

Before Aislinn's next visit they hold a pack meeting, everyone insists on being there for it, and Derek can't deny them, not when it's Isaac pleading.

“When does she come?” Erica asks.

“Three days, so Wednesday, we have her for 5 hours.”

Erica nods, “Enough time for us to welcome her and show her what we're like as a pack”

“Were going to have some girl time too. What's her favourite colour?” Lydia barrels ahead, already planning.

“Green. Don't go too overboard though, we’re not trying to coerce her into choosing us, we want to show her that we want her.” Derek replies leaning against the back of Stiles chair, “Plan it so it's not obvious what you're doing. Also Mrs Anne will be here for the whole time, she’ll come in at first but will sit outside and she’ll always be listening in.”

“She's a werewolf?” Isaac asks walking in from the kitchen, handing Stiles his coffee as he passes.

“Yeah. They have adults of all supernatural identities because of the children, they need to have someone like them, someone to learn from” Stiles answers.

They nod their heads. Allison sits forward, bracing her hands on Ericas legs, “What time does she arrive?”

Derek takes a sheet of paper out of his pocket, “We have her from 2-7.”

“I have a meeting for work from 1-3 we’re thinking of expanding, so I’ll be a little late.”

Derek nods, “That's fine. Are you going to have to travel for a lot of these expansions?”

“Possibly, but we’ll see, Michael might do the travelling this time ‘round”

The pack hang around for awhile, talking about work and catching up with each other. Stiles complains to Lydia about a boy in his class who's just as smart as she is and keeps taking control of his lessons. She laughs and tells Stiles to let the kid does he pleases, let him show everyone how smart he is but try to engage discussions about the topic they're learning, whatever that is.

×××

Come Wednesday Stiles is nervous. He had called in and told them he wouldn't be be at school today and why. Suzie was happy for him but promised to keep it a secret.

He paced while Derek was at work. He would be the one to greet Aislinn and Mrs Anne. Everyone else would arrive around 2:30-3:00. They had a room set up for Aislinn. There was a mural of a forest on one wall. With pale green walls. Her furniture was white with a purple bed spread. There were a few stuffed animals on the bed too. A wolf, a cat and a dog. The roof is painted with star constellations. Maybe they were getting a bit ahead of themselves, but they were excited. It was hard not to be. They just hoped she liked it.

Mrs Anne and Aislinn arrived right on time. Aislinn ran to give Stiles a huge hug, gripping tightly, face pressed to his neck. He gripped her just as tightly. He had missed her.

They spent the first quarter of an hour taking a tour of the house, not showing Aislinn's room though. Before going to the kitchen, where Mrs Anne laid out the rules of this visit. No promises were to be made. Don't let Aislinn get too attached. Don't talk about the future and what might happen. No obvious scent marking. Stiles nodded along to everything. Then Mrs Anne went outside and Stiles asked Aislinn what she wanted to do.

“I'm not sure.”

Stiles nodded, “Want to help me make some cookies then?”

Aislinn nodded her head vigorously. Stiles gave her a bright smile. He got the ingredients out then helped her onto a stool so she could help him. While they attempted to bake cookies, they talked, Aislinn to him of a painting she was working on of the forest at the orphanage, they talked about anything, favourite book, favourite movie, Stiles told her a little of the history of Beacon Hills. They cookies never did get made though because they got into a bit of a food fight, just flour and sugar being thrown everywhere and at each other. Derek and Jackson walked in on them laughing on the ground. Aislinn gave Derek a huge hug, tears coming once again. Derek convinced her to have a bath, and get some fresh clothes on which she luckily brought with her, and told Stiles to have a shower while he and Jackson cleaned the kitchen.

They came downstairs to see Lydia and Erica sitting in the living room. They seemed to be bickering about Lydia's nail polish, but stopped when they noticed Aislinn and Stiles. Lydia asked her if she wanted her nails painted too, Aislinn looked up at Stiles who gave her a bright smile and encouraged her to go on. He watched for a few minutes just to be sure that she was okay. She sat beside Lydia while Erica left to get some pepper towels. Lydia asked what colour she wanted to which she got the eager response to have them green.

Stiles went into the kitchen to prepare dinner and saw Derek and Jackson making some small snacks since the cookies didn't work out. Stiles brushed a kiss on Derek's shoulder as he passed and squeezed Jackson's shoulder. He truly loved his pack. He decided to make the lasagne first since it would take so long. Isaac came to help him after getting his nails painted by Erica, Boyd and Scott stayed in the room with Lydia, Erica and Aislinn, just getting to know her. Laughter could constantly be heard. Derek was out talking to Mrs Anne and Jackson had gone to pick Allison up.

Dinner time was very eventful. Everyone talked over one another, laughing and shouting, Aislinn in the midst of it. They seemed to be arguing about whether raspberry swirl ice cream was better than caramel swirl. It was all very intense. Derek sat at the head of the table a pleased smile on his face. Stiles caught his eye and smiled brightly, they knew this was a great idea.

After dinner Aislinn curled up on the couch between Stiles and Derek while the others cleaned up or made excuses for having to leave. They each have Aislinn a hug and wished her well. Aislinn had to leave not long after. It was heartbreaking. She cried and begged Mrs Anne to let her stay. She sobbed as she gave both of them hugs, not wanting to leave. Stiles cried as well and Derek tried not too. They went to bed that night with a full but heavy heart.

×××

They had been told it would take awhile for a decision to be made, but 2 weeks later and Stiles just wanted to know if they would get their girl. The house wasn't the same after her visit, he kept wishing to hear her bubbly laugh, to see her bright smile, to walk into the living room and expect to see her there with Lydia, Erica and Allison. But they had to continue on with their lives, but every night Stiles and Derek would sit in the room they had prepared for Aislinn.

After an additional week they got the call from Mrs Anne. They got their girl and she would be there tomorrow. Stiles cried on the phone, Derek held him and they cried together. They got their girl. They called the pack one by one and told them too. Everyone cried or shouted with happiness. Neither Stiles nipor Derek slept that night. They were too excited. Aislinn would officially be moving in tomorrow. Forever.

×××

Derek and Stiles were sitting on the front porch when the car pulled up. Aislinn jumped out and ran to them, she was smiling brightly, but also crying. They held her between them. Scenting her, and kissing her head. She was theirs. This smart little I they help was theirs and nobody could ever take her away. Mrs Anne smiled at them, eyes twinkling, before she left.

“Are we a family now?” Aislinn innocently asked.

Derek nodded, “Yeah baby we are.”

Aislinn held onto them tighter, and when she pulled back they would see her wide smile, and bright eyes. She was happy. They all were.

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Rumors

A/N: Another one-shot for you guys, because I’m bored and though of an idea. Word count: 2021 Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader

If there was one thing Gerard has taught you, it was that having shitty thoughts and feelings were normal.

It was just especially difficult for you and your desk job to cope with that. He now had music, which was going extremely well. You were so proud of him and everyone else, but you weren’t happy. Not because of him, but because of yourself.

“Hey, Gee.” You stumbled into your small Jersey apartment at 9 pm on a Tuesday night, your boyfriend on the couch watching something.

“Oh, hey.” He smiled, looking over at you. He immediately noticed your mood. He knew you struggled with depression, but some days were worst than others. “How was your day?” 

“Meh.” You said putting your bag down and hanging up your coat. The harsh Jersey winter had finally arrived, a dusting of snow settled on the ground.

“Have you eaten?” He asked you shook your head.

“I’m not hungry.” You admitted, walking over to where he was and sitting next to him.

“Be honest with me,” He turned to face you, “How are you doing?” You knew better than to lie, Gerard was like a lie detector with you. Anything you said he could easily decipher whether it was a lie or wasn’t.

“Not well,” You leaned back, slouching on the old couch you two had, “I just feel so drained.” He nodded.

“Well, I’m not going to tell you it’s okay, because that would be a load of bull shit.” He said, “But how can I help?” 

“I don’t know.” You said, “Just, be close to me, maybe?” He nodded, throwing an arm around you and grabbing a blanket from one of the arms of the furniture, placing it over your two bodies. He gave you a long kiss on the head, relaxing into the Star Wars movie marathon that was on.

One of the things that you knew was causing this issue was Gerard’s fame. It was by no means his fault or the bands, but Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge had blown up. And next thing you knew, you were bombarded with co-workers, acquaintances, everyone you even remotely were trying to be friendly with you. But you were smart enough to know it was because of your relationship with Gerard. Two years and a lot had changed.

His fingers had found their way interlocked into strands of your hair, dancing with them and providing an even more relaxing feeling for you. “Tell me why you feel like this.” He told you, your eyes still fixated on the TV.

“I’m just sick of fake people, ya know?” You said, beginning to play with your fingers, “Feeling used.” 

“You feel used?” He asked, now concerned, “By who? By me?” 

“No, no, of course not.” You let him know, “It’s just, honestly? People want to ya know, know me for you. And I get that, you’re an awesome person, and now you’re famous, but still.” He nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He reassured you, sighing, “Maybe we don’t be as public about us?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be a burden on you-” 

“I’ve thought about this for a while too.” He reassured you, “I want our life, our relationship, to be as normal as possible.”

“Are you sure, Gee?” “Yeah, I’m sure.” You leaned up giving him a kiss, him giving one back, and leaned back into him afterward.

“Thank you.” You said.

“No need to thank me.” He said, “We both need to be comfortable with this, right?” 

“Right.” You responded.

And that worked. For a few months. Until their fame blew up even more, and more and more.

Gerard and you had decided to make public appearances together very simple, by wearing sunglasses and hats. Trying not to get mauled by paparazzi. But one day, in particular, you went to the grocery store like a regular person, and within hours you were all over gossip news.

“What the fuck?” You muttered, looking on your and Gerard’s computer at the countless articles with your name splashed on the front, and picture placed right below.

Is Y/F/N Y/L/N pregnant?

Gerard Way expectant father!

Y/F/N Y/L/N seen grocery shopping, pregnancy rumors spark

You shut down the computer, huffing out of frustration and getting up to take a shower. Gee and the guys were on tour at the moment, and the only way this wasn’t going to drive you insane was to take care of yourself.

The warm water hit your bare skin. You took a few deep breaths but looked down at your stomach fat which was mistaken today for a pregnancy. Maybe I do look pregnant? You thought. I should lose weight. The thoughts continued to run in your mind. When was the last time Gerard and I had sex? It had been months. Oh no he thinks I’m fat too. He thinks I’m disgusting.

So there you stood in the shower for an additional 45 minutes, before getting out and drying yourself off. You stood in the bathroom mirror, looking at the fat rolls that laid on your side, the fat on your stomach, and your thick thighs. He doesn’t like my body.

You changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, sitting on your bed. You checked your phone, noticing three missed calls from Gerard. You took a deep breath and reluctantly called him back. “Hey, are you alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course.” You put on the most realistic, regular voice you could.

“Did you see the reports?” Both of you paused. 

“Yeah, I did.”

“You know they’re some fucking bull shit, right?” He asked.

“Right.” You said.

“Wait, are you pregnant?” 

“No, Gee I’m not.” You sighed, “I’m just fat.” 

“You’re not fat.” He fired back. And that was enough for you to break down in tears. “Shit.” You could hear him mutter. “Listen I-” 

“You have to go, I know.” You said through tears.

“No, I’m not going fucking anywhere.” 

“Gee, it’s like 8 pm there. It’s time for you to go out there.” 

“I don’t give a single shit.” He said, “You’re not fucking fat, okay? You’re the most gorgeous fucking woman on this fucking planet and screw all the shit those asses say about you.” 

“Gee, I’m good.” 

“You’re crying.”

“Yeah, but I’ll get through it, okay? Just please, go out there and play.” 

“Fine.” He sighed, “But I love you. So fucking much.” 

“I love you too.” You whispered and hung up. You slumped under the covers, turning off your phone and lights and going to bed.

Thankfully, the following morning was a Saturday. You woke up, stretching out and yawning. Grabbing your phone, you turned it on only for texts to be flooding your screen. You sat up in confusion, checking some of them.

Did you see what Gerard did? Y/N, it’s insane!

The video’s gone viral!

What video? You thought, swinging yourself over the bed and to the computer. You quickly turned it on, logging in, and searched up Gee’s name, waiting for results to come up. There, lo and behold, all over the internet held a video of him on stage that had gone viral. So of course, you clicked on it.

“How many of you here are girls?” He asked, no music playing. Part of the crowd cheered. “Well, I want to tell every single one of you, that you are all fucking beautiful, in your very own fucking way.” The crowd roared. “And I’m sick and tired of the fucking bull shit, that the media likes to stir regarding women and their bodies.” The crowd went even wilder, “Because all women are beautiful. And all you guys, you guys are handsome. And everyone here is fucking hot.” Everyone managed to get even louder for that.

You knew it was of course him directing it at the rumors regarding you. And you were honestly quite thankful for it. But you were still worried that you weren’t enough in his eyes anymore.

You got ready for a day at home, which would most likely consist of cleaning and cooking for yourself, with maybe some reading or TV involved in there too. After cooking breakfast, you got a call from Gerard. “Hey, Gee.” You picked up.

“Hey, honey.” He said. “How are you?” 

“Good, how about you?”

“Alright.” He said. “I- I think we should talk about the rumors. I know you’re still upset, and I am too.” You sighed.

“Gee, I appreciate what you did on stage last night.” 

“It needed to be said.” He spoke with confidence, “Someone needed to at least. And you know I don’t give a fuck.”

“Yeah, I know Gee.” You said.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked. You didn’t answer, “Please, tell me. Please?” You sighed.

“I don’t know if I can.” 

“If you can?” He asked, “You can tell me anything.” 

“Do you still love me?” You asked, pain erupting in every word. He didn’t respond for a few moments.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, “Are you drunk?” 

“No, I’m not Gerard.” You said, “Do you still love me?” 

“Yes, of course, I fucking love you. More than anything.” 

“Do you love my body?” You asked next, “Am I unattractive to you?” You could hear him sigh.

“Why would you think that?” 

“Because I know I’m chubby.” You said, “And we haven’t had sex in forever. So I just thought-” 

“Your body is fucking beautiful.” He said, “You’re the most gorgeous woman on this planet, on the inside and the out. I love every inch of you and you better know that and understand that because I really do.” He took a moment to breathe, “And I swear, the first thing I’m doing when I get a break is taking you right there against the fucking wall. I’ve been dreaming about you every single day since I left.” You weren’t sure how to respond.

“I love you, Gerard.” You said.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He responded, “Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I’m gonna be home in the next three weeks, okay? We have a break.” 

“Sounds great.” You lightly smiled.

“I do love you, Y/N.” 

“I love you too, Gee. Bye.” You two hung up.

The next few weeks went by slowly, day by day slugging yourself in and almost immediately crashed onto the bed. One night, after passing out almost immediately post changing. You snuggled into the covers, falling asleep instantly.

It wasn’t uncommon you woke up in the middle of the night, but when you felt a shift in your bed you knew it wasn’t insomnia. You stirred a little bit, groaning slightly. “Hey, babe.” You heard a familiar voice. You still weren’t completely in your conscious.

“Hey, Gee.” You responded out of instinct rolling back over.

“Try to get some sleep, okay?” He asked you could feel him shift under the covers.

“Mhm.” You murmured into your pillow, falling right back asleep.

But of course the next morning, you noticed the slant in the mattress as well as the warmth which radiated from the usually empty side of the bed. “Gee?” You asked, rolling over slightly to face him.

“Hey,” He muttered, still half asleep.

“You’re back.” He nodded against the pillow. “Oh, well, I missed you.” He lightly chuckled.

“I missed you too, sugar.” You two laid there for a few content, silent moments before speaking up.

“How long are you back for?” You asked next.

“Four days.” He said, smirking immediately after.

“What?” You asked.

“I think I made a promise.” He got up, getting above you and smiling down, giving you a kiss.

“Gee,” You said, pulling away, “Can I get five more minutes of sleep?” He sighed, slumping back down next to you.

“Really? Now?” 

“Yes, now, Gee.” You smiled, knowing you had just pissed him off.

“If you’re hard you can always-” 

“No, I’ll wait.” He sighed again and you lightly laughed. “You find this funny?” 

“I don’t find it funny,” You clarified, “I find it absolutely hilarious.”

“You’re so beautiful.” He smiled. You groaned.

“Thanks.” You said, “You’re gorgeous too Gerard.”

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Bad Blood - Chapter 26

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here. 

___________

Peter sits on the couch and listens while Stiles tells him what he knows about Gerard’s plans. It amounts to the fact that he had a map on his desk with a circle around the warehouses on Elm, and Chris had already told them that before he got shot. So Peter steers the boy more into generalities, and Gerard’s training methods, and listens to his stuttering heartbeat while he calmly relays things, and wonders if the boy even knows what a conflicted mess he is. It’s clear that he’s terrified of Gerard—his body’s responses can’t be hidden—but it’s also clear he’s learned how to repress them.

He’s just as terrified of Peter, probably.

Peter finds his gaze drawn occasionally to the scar on his throat.

Peter doesn’t trust the boy.

And that’s not because he thinks that Stiles is another Kate Argent, another hunter wearing a false face. He doesn’t trust Stiles because he doesn’t think that Stiles can trust himself.  

“Thank you, Stiles,” he says at last. “This has been very helpful.”

Stiles’s hands are shaking as Derek leads him away. They go upstairs this time, and Peter hopes Derek is showing the boy to the bathroom. He stinks of sweat and fear.

“You don’t believe him, do you?” Laura asks quietly after a moment.

“I do,” Peter says. “But I don’t trust him any more than I’d trust any other cornered animal. He’s scared, and fear drives people to crazy things.”

Allison’s forehead creases. “Scared? No, he’s like this all the time.”

Peter tilts his head. “He’s been scared for years, Allison. He’s good at hiding it, but I can hear his heartbeat.”

Allison has no answer for that.

The pipes groan and creak as the shower is turned on upstairs.

***

In the afternoon Peter leaves the loft, his senses on high alert. He takes the Camaro and parks it outside the grocery store on Forest Street. He goes inside and buys a few things. More coffee, some snacks, some bacon. Some chocolate for Laura. And then he walks the three blocks over to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic, checking to make sure he’s not being followed.

The bells on the door ring as he pushes them open.

Deaton appears from the back rooms. “Peter. What’s going on?”

“Can we talk?” Peter asks. “Also, can I put this bacon in your fridge while I’m here?”

Deaton waves him through.

Moments later, his bacon safe, Peter leans up against the examination table as Deaton goes over all the surfaces in the place with antiseptic.

“You want mountain ash,” Deaton says, “but for humans?”

“There must be something, right?” Peter says. “Magic is all about balance, so where’s our equivalent of mountain ash?”

“Most people would tell you that mountain ash balances out the fact that werewolves have claws and fangs and incredible strength,” Deaton says.

“There must be something,” Peter says. “Alan, I need any advantage I can get.”

Deaton exhales slowly. “Then I’m sorry, I don’t know of any substance that would disable humans without having the same effect on werewolves. Certainly nothing you could use as a barrier in the same way humans can use mountain ash.”

“Nothing at all?” Peter asks.

“I’m sorry,” Deaton says. He taps his fingers along the counter. “Have you considered that you’re looking in the wrong place?”

“What do you mean?”

“Herbs and potions and magic might not help you against the hunters,” Deaton says, “but technology could. If you want to set mantraps, Peter, then maybe you need to take a leaf out of their playbook instead of mine.”

Peter narrows his eyes for a moment.

Deaton’s mouth quirks, which is the closest he ever comes to a real smile. “If their technology can stop you, Peter, it can sure as hell stop them too.”

And Peter supposes that yes, yes it can.

***

Peter returns to the loft, and unpacks his groceries. He slings an arm around Laura when she comes to inspect what he bought. She nabs the chocolate first, and then catches his gaze. Peter can’t help his smirk.

“You’re up to something,” she says suspiciously.

“I have an idea forming, yes,” Peter says.

“And is it an idea you’re willing to share with your alpha?”

“It most certainly is.” Peter listens for a moment. He can hear Allison and Stiles’s heartbeats upstairs, and Derek’s too. Derek will be able to hear him, but the humans won’t. “How would you feel about tripwires, and flash bombs, and explosives and whatever the hell else is considered an arsenal?”

“To use on the hunters?”

“Who else?”

Laura looks hesitant. “I mean, maybe. Why? Are you planning on breaking into a military base?”

“Nope,” Peter says, and flashes her a smug smile. “I’m planning on breaking into Gerard Argent’s house.”

Laura raises her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Look,” Peter says, “we can’t go to Chris’s house, because Gerard will be watching it to see if Allison runs home. And he can’t be lurking around his house, because you know who’s already watching that?”

“Who?”

“The good deputies of Beacon Hills,” Peter says. “It’s still a crime scene. But fortunately we have an in with the sheriff.”

“Peter, if there was anything in that house, wouldn’t it already be in an evidence locker?”

“Oh, I’m sure they took everything they found,” Peter says. “Just like I’m absolutely sure they didn’t find everything, or the FBI would have been crawling over the place like ants at a picnic.”

Laura nods cautiously. “Maybe.”

“Shall we go and ask Stiles?” Peter asks.

Laura nods, more decisively this time.

Peter leads the way up the steps.

He finds Stiles and Allison in Derek’s room. Derek is on the bed reading, and the humans are sitting on the floor playing some game with a pack of cards. Stiles looks better today. He’s wearing a borrowed shirt of Derek’s that’s a little baggy on him, and a pair of sweats with a pink stripe up the side: Laura’s. His feet are bare.

“Stiles,” Peter says.

Stiles looks up from his cards, and makes to rise.

“No, stay there, you’re fine.” Peter steps inside the room. “I wanted to ask you some more questions about Gerard. Specifically his house.”

Stiles glances to Derek before answering. “Okay.”

“I need to know what kind of weapons he kept in the house,” Peter says. “And not just firearms, but also things like explosives, and grenades, and, you know, the really illegal stuff.”

“Okay,” Stiles says again, and proceeds to rattle off a list. Peter only catches about half of it, and understands even less than that.

“You know what?” he says, grabbing a pen and a pad of paper from Derek’s desk. “How about you write that down?”

Stiles nods.

***

Peter takes his phone outside onto the balcony to make the call. It’s a bright day. A cool breeze plays around Peter as he brings up the list of contacts in his phone.

“Peter,” John says when he answers. “Everything okay?”

He says everything, but Peter isn’t a fool. He knows what John’s really asking.

“He’s fine,” Peter says. “Fed, and showered, and currently playing cards with Allison.”

John exhales. “Thank you. What’s happening?”

Peter inspects his list. “When the police checked Gerard’s house, did they find any proximity fuses? Or any short range sonic devices?”

“No.” John’s tone is suddenly sharper. “The only weapons my guys found were legal.”

“Good,” Peter says. “Then that means all the rest of this stuff is still there too. I have a list here that reads like the inventory of a particularly bloodthirsty video game.”

“What are you thinking?” John asks.

“I’m thinking that I’d quite like to use some of Gerard’s technology against him,” Peter says. He consults his list again. “Like infrared tripwires, whatever it is you do with those.”

John huffs out a laugh. “Jesus. You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

“None at all,” Peter says. “Those of us in the fur and fangs set have really never needed this kind of stuff. Luckily I know a guy who knows how it all works.”

“Luckily,” John responds wryly. “But what’s the actual plan here, Peter?”

“The plan is to rig one of those warehouses on Elm to explode as soon as Gerard and his goons get inside it,” Peter says.

“Hmm.”

“You’re not a fan?”

“No, I like it,” John says. “It’s a good idea, but it needs a little finessing.”

“That’s where you come in, John. You bring the finesse.”

He likes the way that John’s laugh warms him.

“But who will bell the cat, Peter?”

“What?”

“It’s an old story,” John says. “A bunch of mice agree that in order to be safe, they need to put a bell on the cat so they can hear it coming. Which raises the question of who will bell the cat. And of course nobody wants to and everybody makes excuses not to, because it’s so dangerous.”

“Did you just liken an apex predator like myself to a mouse?”

“Put your ego away for a second,” John tells him. “The problem with your plan isn’t rigging some warehouse into a fiery death trap, it’s that whoever has to lure Gerard there stands a good chance of becoming collateral damage.”

“Is this where your finesse comes in?” Peter asks, more archly than he’d intended.

John isn’t ruffled. “It’s a good plan, Peter. Getting hold of Gerard’s arsenal is a good idea. We just need to find a smarter way to use it once we have it.”

Peter is somewhat mollified by that. “Agreed.”

“Okay,” John says. “So let’s focus on actually getting the weapons first. Gerard’s house is still under guard. How about I swing by there at five and tell Parrish I’m taking over for an hour or so, so that he can get a meal break? That should give us a window to find what we need. I’ll have the garage door open for you. Do not bring the Camaro, for God’s sake. Can you get your hands on something a little more nondescript?”

“I think Deaton has a van.”

“A van would be good,” John says. “A van that doesn’t say ‘Beacon Hills Animal Clinic’ would be better.”

Peter checks the time. “I think I can hire a nondescript van from somewhere by five.”

“Good.” John pauses for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any idea where to look for this arsenal?”

“I do, as it happens,” Peter says. “There’s a hidden door in the basement, behind the cabinets in the gym.”

“Stiles,” John says, a note of wonder creeping into his tone.

“Stiles,” Peter confirms.

“Is he…” John trails off.

“Baby steps, John,” Peter reminds him. “Baby steps. I’ll see you at five.”