#He got caught in the crossfire of a firefight and they saw him take a bullet to the chest and then run off but he was fine the next day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marjansmarwani · 3 years

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all the difference in the world

2.7k || ao3

Carlos and his partner Mya respond to the hostage situation call. --- A 2x05 coda (a.k.a if the writers won’t give Carlos scenes, I will.)

This was mostly written out of spite. Mostly beta’d by @officereyes, but any errors in the part I added after are on me and me alone.

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“I’m just saying, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to the roller derby.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea it would be your thing,” Carlos shot back defensively.

His partner turned to look at him for the briefest of moments with an entirely unimpressed expression, “It’s badass women on roller skates, Reyes. What exactly about that sounds like ‘not my thing��?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to invite you next time, Esquilin,” he promised, “as long as you don’t mind hanging out with TK’s crew.”

“I think the badass women on roller skates can balance out the company of firefighters,” she quipped, shooting Carlos a grin, “probably.”

He rolled his eyes again, but his retort was interrupted when their radio sounded from the dashboard, “Be advised, all units: Code 3 at 235 Heyward St, unit 3F. Hostage situation, suspect is armed and dangerous.”

Carlos shot Mya a look and she nodded, flipping on the lights and sirens as she took the next left, bringing them closer to the emergency in progress.

“Dispatch, this is 363-H-20, responding. ETA 8 minutes,” he announced into the radio before replacing it on the dashboard, a grim set to his mouth as he stared out the window at the houses they sped by.

“I hate domestic calls,” Mya eventually said into the silence and Carlos nodded grimly. They had both seen calls like this end badly, and he knew they were both desperately hoping to never have to see that again. “Where did they say she was?”

“Third floor.” He glanced at his partner to see her biting her lip as she considered, “Why?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how we can possibly get up there without tipping him off. Dispatch said he was armed, we don’t want him spooked. That’s not going to end well for anyone, especially not her.”

Carlos nodded, trying to focus on the problem rather than the possible disastrous outcomes. He and Mya had responded to a similar call almost two years ago now and that one had not ended happily. It was one of his experiences on the force that had affected him most and one he still thought about from time to time, especially on bad days. But it was also an experience that didn’t help them now. If they wanted to make sure that didn’t happen again he needed to focus on the now.

Which was all well and good, but he didn’t know they were supposed to get a victim out of a third-floor apartment before they breached without anyone getting caught in a crossfire. They didn’t have the time, resources, or training to scale the building to approach that way. The only way in was the stairs and the door.

He looked over at Mya who met his gaze with an equally frustrated expression. Clearly, she had not come up with any brilliant ideas either. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. It’s not that he thought he and Mya were incapable of coming up with creative solutions. But after spending so much time about the 126 he had a new standard for “creative,” and honestly he could use some of that insanity he witnessed on a regular basis right now.

“We just need a way to get her out,” Mya said eventually as they drew closer to their destination, “once she is safe we can handle the guy. I just don’t want to risk her getting caught in a possible crossfire.”

Carlos nodded and opened his mouth to ask his partner if she had any brilliant ideas to make that happen when he froze, a half-formed thought popping into his head. Without saying a word to Mya he reached for the radio again, switching it on to call dispatch: “Dispatch, are there any available fire units in the area of the Code 3?”

“The 226 is in the vicinity and available.”

Carlos glanced over at Mya, who had pulled her eyes off the road long enough to give him a baffled look. He smiled at her before he spoke into the radio again, “Dispatch, can they respond to the address in question and deploy the rescue cushion?”

He saw the dawning realization on his partner’s face as he waited. She beamed at him even as the voice of the dispatch supervisor sounded over the radio, “Affirmative, 363-H-20. The 226 is en route and will have the rescue cushion deployed in time for your ETA.”

“10-4 dispatch, we’re about 4 minutes out now.”

He replaced the radio and turned to look at his partner, who shot him a knowing grin, “Only someone who has spent a little too much time around firefighters could come up with an idea as crazy as that.”

He scoffed at her, “Crazy enough that it might just work, you mean.”

She shook her head, still grinning, and Carlos sighed and leaned back in his seat, grin fading. “I hope it does work,” he admitted more somberly. “I don’t want this to be a repeat of…”

“There’s no point in thinking like that,” Mya interrupted sharply, “that was a long time ago. And there’s no saying this is going to turn out the same way. Not if we have any say in it. We’re already in better shape than we were then. We’re not going to make the same mistakes.”

Carlos nodded tightly and they continued their ride in silence. He knew Mya was right and that they had prepared in every possible way. They had done all they could, but there were still so many variables. There always were. Working with people in crisis was never an exact science and there was always a chance that nothing went according to plan.

They arrived at the scene and Carlos was out of the vehicle before Mya had even brought it to a complete stop, rushing over to the team unfurling the rescue cushion. The captain looked up as Carlos approached, “We’re just about ready to give the go-ahead,” he called, “we’re all set on our end!”

Carlos nodded gratefully and turned on his heel, meeting Mya’s eyes and jerking his head towards the building. She followed without question, waving for the other officers who had just arrived to follow them. They headed up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible and Carlos did his best to avoid the creeping feeling of dread. He knew they had done everything they could, but that didn’t stop the fear that it might somehow still end in tragedy.

They had just approached the last flight of stairs when the scream ripped through the air. They froze as one, all waiting to hear the outcome. Carlos was nearly toppled by the relief of hearing the voices of the firefighters drifting up, assuring her that she was safe now. He could feel Mya’s hand on his arm and glanced over his shoulder to give her a quick smile. The victim was safe. From here, it was all simple.

He gave a nod to the other officers gathered behind him and they resumed their journey upwards, entering the hallway and barreling through the door. The man spun to face them from the railing, a look of shock covering his features. Carlos held his gaze as he ordered him to put his hands up, and he saw the moment he made a decision. Dispatch had mentioned that this was his third strike; he knew there was no happy ending in this for him.

He lunged for the gun in the same moment that Carlos thrust himself fully into the room, grabbing him before he could achieve his goal, stopping his hands mere millimeters from the gun. He could feel the collective sigh of relief from his fellow officers, as well as his partner’s gaze on the back of his neck. He ignored it, for the moment, as he wrestled the man’s arms behind his back, slapping the cuffs on him as he read him his rights. He stood then, pulling the suspect up with him as Mya stepped further into the room. She glanced over at the two officers behind them before addressing the pair: “We’ll take this loser down and get him to the station, can you two do a quick sweep and make sure all’s good here?”

They nodded and Mya gave them a quick thanks before taking the suspect from Carlos and guiding him towards the stairs. Carlos gave his own thanks to the other two officers and quickly followed. He could tell his partner had something on her mind, but he also knew she wouldn’t say anything about it until they had the suspect safely secured in the back of their squad car. They descended the stairs in silence before eventually exiting the building back into the parking lot where the 226 was in the process of packing up the rescue cushion and the victim was getting checked out by the paramedics.

Upon seeing his ex their cuffed suspect made to lunge in her direction but Carlos stepped between them, blocking his line of sight and staring down at him coldly, “Don’t even think about it.”

He deflated and Mya scoffed as she pulled him in the direction of the squad car, opening the door and guiding him inside without a word. Once the door was closed behind him she turned to face Carlos, eyebrows raised and an unimpressed look on her face, “You wanna talk about what happened up there?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we got the guy.”

“Yes, we did. After you threw yourself in between him and his gun and our guns too, I might add.”

“Mya…” he began, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“I’m not trying to scold you, Carlos, especially because I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing. I’m just asking you to be a little bit more careful, okay? We take enough risks as it is, you really don’t need to go out of your way to create more. I kind of like you as a partner so I would appreciate it if you could manage to not get yourself shot if you don’t mind.”

“Aw, you do care.”

“I will deny that in a court of law,” she countered without missing a beat.

He grinned at her and she sighed before shaking her head and walking back around to the driver’s side. “Just remember I’m not going to be the one to tell your boyfriend you got yourself shot,” she called over her shoulder, “so maybe avoid that if at all possible.”

He chuckled, but her words also ignited a hint of anxiety in his chest. He had followed his instincts and he didn’t regret it, but now that the adrenaline was gone and he had the advantage of hindsight he could see how badly that could have gone. But he also knew that dwelling on it would accomplish nothing. He had spent a career trusting his instincts and he knew that was the best way to approach this. He knew that trusting himself was the best chance he had.

That didn’t lessen the risks and the fact that he had so much more to lose now than he ever had before.

As he opened the passenger door he glanced across the scene to see the woman sitting in the back of the ambulance, talking to another officer who was taking her statement. Her expression of relief was evident even from this distance, and Carlos smiled. This reality was better than any of the anxieties running through his head and he would focus on that. Today had been a win. They didn’t always get those, Carlos knew that all too well. They had to take the successes they could get, and savor those. Focusing on what-ifs never helped anybody.

Today they had won and the would-be victim had her life back. Today they had managed to get the ex before the worst had happened and that made all the difference in the world.

--------

Carlos looked up as his front door swung open, a smile spreading across his face when he saw his boyfriend and Paul crossing the threshold. TK met his eyes and matched his smile as he crossed the room towards him, “Hey, babe.”

Carlos met him at the edge of the counter, pulling him into a kiss that lingered. When they finally pulled apart, he grinned at TK, “Hey yourself.” He looked over TK’s shoulder to Paul, “Hi Paul.”

“What, no kiss for me Reyes?”

Carlos rolled his eyes fondly as TK chuckled, setting the grocery bags he had brought on the counter to start unloading them. Carlos grabbed some of the groceries from him, stealing another quick kiss in the process before he glanced between the two firefighters, “No Mateo and Marjan tonight?”

“They’ll be here,” Paul explained, “they’re just handling a situation right now.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, “That sounds like a story.”

“It is,” TK confirmed as he put the last of the groceries into the fridge, closing it behind him, “and we’ll tell you as soon as you tell me what you might know about the 226 having to deploy a rescue cushion under a third-floor balcony at the request of APD.”

Carlos smiled sheepishly, “You heard about that, huh?”

“Austin’s a small town, Carlos,” TK reminded him with a sly grin, “and the fire department is even smaller. There’s not much I don’t hear about.”

Carlos looked past TK to Paul who raised an eyebrow, settling onto the couch to watch them, “We’ll tell you ours after you tell us yours.”

Carlos made a face at him before turning back to meet TK’s expectant gaze, “It was nothing major. There was a hostage situation in a third-floor apartment and we just needed to make sure that she was safely out of the line of fire before we went to take down the guy.”

TK moved closer to him, wrapping his arms around Carlos as he peered up into his eyes, “It sounds pretty major to me. Your idea probably saved her life, Carlos. She’s safe because of you.”

Carlos shrugged self-consciously, “I wouldn’t say that. Grace did most of the work, figuring it all out and keeping her on the line.”

TK shook his head and removed one of his hands from Carlos’s waist to turn his face so their gazes met, “Grace is brilliant and certainly deserves a lot of credit, but you had a hand in it too babe, don’t sell yourself short.”

Carlos studied TK’s eyes. They were sincere and full of love; so much it nearly overwhelmed him. His boyfriend meant every word he had said, and he was not about to let Carlos get away with arguing. The amount of faith TK had in him staggered him sometimes. He let himself smile and gave TK a nod. At his nod TK smiled wider, leaning in for another kiss before stepping away.

Paul chuckled from the couch, “I’ve gotta hand it to you Carlos, that was pretty crafty. It definitely worked but it was also a little crazy. Almost like something a certain someone else I know might have tried.”

Both Carlos and Paul’s gazes turned to TK, who looked at them indignantly, “What?” he demanded, but Paul just laughed.

“I think he might be rubbing off on you,” he informed Carlos with a raised eyebrow.

Carlos huffed a laugh in return but reached out an arm to wind around TK’s shoulders and pull him closer, placing a kiss on the inside of his neck. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but who’s to say that’s a bad thing?”

Paul rolled his eyes and TK smiled smugly, twisting in Carlos’s grasp to face him, leaning forward to give him another kiss. When he pulled away his expression grew more serious as he studied Carlos’s expression intently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, “I know how you feel about domestic calls.”

Carlos pulled him closer again, placing a light kiss on the top of his head, “I’m okay,” he assured him with a certainty that almost surprised him, “really.”

TK grinned at him and Carlos smiled back, looking up and meeting Paul’s gaze as well and giving him a reassuring nod. Of course he was fine; he had everything he could possibly ever need right here in his arms. He was fine because despite it all today had been a good day, but he also because knew that even if it hadn’t been, he had a second family now and they would catch him should he fall.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #tarlos #tarlos fic #911ls season 2 #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #usermaximus #userac #userbones #tuserpaige

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anna-justice · 4 years

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Bulletproof - Brettsey

Summary: When a routine call goes sideways, Sylvie is caught in the crossfire.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and gore, gun violence…

Requested: No

…

Matt sat in the waiting room of Med, his turn out coat abandoned in the chair next to him. The energy in the room was hectic, chaotic even. Not too far away, Severide sat with his arm wrapped around a panicked Stella. Herrmann was asking the desk nurse for updates every five seconds accompanied by Cruz while Ritter and Gallo shared a hushed conversation. Mouch was seated next to Chief Boden, both of them sharing the sae far off look. All of firehouse 51’s second shift was there, waiting anxiously.

As Matt watched his friends and colleagues worry, all he could think was that all of this was his fault.

…

3 hours earlier

…

Sylvie sat at the common room dining table with Cruz, they were discussing his ideas for future marketing for the slammigan. She listened intently, she had been a part of the project since the beginning.

They were interrupted by the bells ringing, “Truck 81, Engine 51, Squad 3, Ambulance 61. Multi-vehicle accident. East Main and Mulwood.” Everyone sprung into action, heading to the rigs. Mullins, her most recent partner, was already in the driver's seat when Sylvie arrived, so she jumped in and they followed squad 3 to the accident.

When they arrived the scene was buzzing. There were people everywhere, some from involved cars, others just trying to find out what was going on. Matt scanned the damage, assessing in his head. His focus was immediately pulled to a car with the entire front folded in on itself. He motioned for Severide to follow him. There was a victim in the drivers seat that was unconscious and had a gushing head wound, they needed to get him out as soon as possible.

Sylvie watched her captain’s next move, trying to guess if would need her assistance or not. Assuming her duties as PIC, she had instructed Mullins to check on the victims from the fender bender at the back of the crash, they just had a few scrapes and bruises that she knew she could handle on her own.

Matt turned to Severide, “We aren’t going to be able to get him out of the front.”

Severide nodded and turned to Cruz, instructing him to garb Brett and a backboard.

Matt reached the back of the SUV, lifting the trunk. When he opened it he found duffle bags, duffle bags full of money. “Severide! We’ve got a situation…” He said, turning around. But before he could even realize what was going on, a blur of blonde hair rushed in front of him. There was a loud pop and the figure in front of him screamed, falling back.

“Brett!” Someone called and Matt jumped into action, the initial shock wearing off. He lowered Sylvie gently to the ground, “Mullins get over here!” Everyone was rushing around him, but his focus was entirely on her. The bottom left corner of her shirt was dark red and Matt quickly discarded his dirty gloves to apply pressure.

He checked her pulse and felt a slow thud against his fingers. At least she was alive. “Sylvie?” He asked in a panicked voice. “Mullins! Help!” He screamed, unaware that she was already nearing them.

There were other paramedics as well and Matt was pulled away, forced to watch her bleed from afar. After what seemed like forever, they had her stabilized enough to move. Matt followed them, insisting that he ride with her. Once they pulled away from the scene, he wrapped his hand around hers and fought back the tears. Matt wasn’t usually an emotional guy, but Sylvie Brett, the woman he had been in love with for months, was shot.

…

Matt’s knee bounced as he waited. He still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. All he knew is that Sylvie was shot and he froze. He was rendered useless, he couldn’t move. Hell, he could barely breathe. He watched her bleed from the bullet that she had taken for him.

It wasn’t hard to put together. Obviously the victim that they were trying to get to had been involved in a robbery, but he wasn’t expecting there to be a second guilty party. Matt had found the money, Matt called Severide over, Matt was the one with the gun pointed at him. But Sylvie jumped in front of him.

When Hallie died he would have traded places with her in a heartbeat, to save her. When Gabby was a candidate, he was terrified every call of him coming out of whatever building was burning and her not. He would give anything to go back in time and make sure that Sylvie was far away from the danger that he didn’t even know was coming. He saved people, it was his thing, but she had saved him and now she could possibly pay for it with her life.

Herrmann walked back to the group looking defeated, he had struck out on finding any new information once again. He sat down next to Matt, leaning forward onto his knees so they were at the same eye level. “It wasn’t your fault.” He said.

Matt clenched his jaw, Herrmann said that like he hadn’t spent the last three hours trying to convince himself. However, every time he comes back to the same conclusion: the bullet in Sylvie’s stomach was meant for him. Despite his internal feelings, Matt nodded, wanting to spare himself the continued conversation.

It wasn’t a secret that he loved the thrill of fire fighting, everyday was different and everyday brought a new challenge, but he had fallen into a pattern of expecting the next day to arrive. You would think that at this point he wouldn’t assume that everyone would make it home everyday, but Matt and his foolish optimism forgot that some days. Today was a terrible reminder of that and he was convinced that if Sylvie didn’t make it, that his world would in fact stop turning. If there was no Sylvie, there was no tomorrow.

The realization hit him like an 18-wheeler. He had spent the last few months waiting for the right moment to tell her, ever since she came back to Chicago. There were so many times that he almost did: Cruz’s wedding, the night that she opened the letter from her birth mother, the day he drove her to Rockford. But everytime he convinced himself it was too soon and that he didn’t need that dropped on her on top of everything else, especially now that Julie was gone.

Maybe it was selfish or inconsiderate, but Matt vowed to himself that he was going to tell her the next time that he got the chance. If he got the chance.

Several agonizingly long hours later, he looked up to see Dr. Halstead walking towards him. He stood immediately. “Hey guys,”Will sighed out, glancing at all the anxious looking firefighters. “Sylvie is going to be fine, they removed the bullet with little complication. She’s been sleeping off the anesthetic for a few hours now and Matt, she’s asking to see you.” He explained. Matt’s head shot up at the sound of his name. “You can follow me.”

Without hesitation, Matt followed Will to her room, shamelessly rushing inside. He stopped at the sight in front of him, there were tubes coming out of her arm and several monitors attached to her. She gave him a week smile, “You’re okay.” She said.

Sylvie let out a breath when she saw him, he was fine. Even though she was very aware of the fact that she kept him from getting shot, she had no clue what happened after she passed out just a few moments later.

“Yeah Sylvie, I’m fine.” He scoffed, moving to stand by her side. “What were you thinking?”

Sylvie shrugged to the best of her ability, “He was going to shoot you.”

Matt shook his head and grabbed her hand, “He shot you. Sylvie you could’ve--”

“But I didn’t.” She said, squeezing his hand. “Look at me Matt,” She ordered and Matt looked at her, eyes glassy. Sylvie’s heart leaped out of her chest his broken expression. “I’m fine.”

“If you had-I would never have been able to forgive myself.” He admitted, gripping her hand for dear life. “Please, next time let me take it.” Sylvie laughed, “Contrary to popular belief, you aren’t bulletproof, Matt Casey.”

Matt smiled, and leaned to run his fingers through her hair. “Neither are you, Sylvie Brett.”

“I don’t know, I think I handled it pretty well.” Matt laughed along with her brushed his thumb over her cheek.

Sylvie’s breath caught in her throat at his actions. She realized that taking a bullet for the man you loved was probably not the most effective way to convey your feelings, but she was praying that it worked. “I need you to promise me that you will never do anything that stupid again.”

Sylvie sighed, taking a leap of faith. “I will never promise not to protect you if I can.”

Matt’s heart skipped a beat at her words and his eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips. Throwing caution to the win he leaned down to press his lips to hers, it was gentle ad perfect and better than anything he could ever have imagined. He pulled away slowly, beaming at her eyes fluttering open. “Did that convince you?” He smirked.

Sylvie cinched her eyebrows together, “I don’t know, I might need a little more persuasion.” Matt oblige, lowering his lips to hers again, this time with a little more passion. Sylvie reached up and threaded her fingers in his hair and Matt sat on her bed to steady himself, his hand resting on her cheek. When they finally came up for air, Matt leaned his forehead against hers. He reached up and pressed s chaste kiss to it before sitting up. “If I knew getting shot was what it was going to take to get you to kiss me, I would’ve gotten Halstead to hit me with a through and through a long time ago.” She joked.

Matt chuckled but shit her a fake glare, “No, never ever again, I can’t take it.” Their gazes locked once again and Matt uttered the three words that he had been thinking for months now. “I love you, Sylvie.”

Sylvie grinned and reached up, pulling him down to her. “I love you too.” She said, before kissing him with everything she had in her. Which wasn’t much, she had taken a bullet for him and she was sure that he was never going to let her forget it.

…

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing Brettsey, so tell me what you think! I love them together so much and I cannot wait for season 9. Thank you for reading!

#matt casey #sylvie brett #brettsey #brettsey imagines #chicago fire #chicago fire imagines #one chicago #matt casey x sylvie brett

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a-table-of-fics · 3 years

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Oddworld: Conar's Ambition, Chapter 4, Draft 1

In the meantime, he puffed on his Lungbuster some more, thinking about what they could do next. Once they were all in the scrapyard, and found a secure spot, that’d be a good time to see about that map Mark probably had. From there, he could hopefully find out where Zeb’s offices were, and from there he and Slim could take him down, and Conar could finally have a fortune of his own.

His happy daydreams were interrupted when he heard another vehicle come rumbling down the road, and the sound of screeching metal against concrete. He leaned to look past the wall, and he had to cover his earholes as he saw an ugly yellow truck coming to the garage, sparks flying behind it as it carelessly dragged an enormous three-pronged hook behind it on a thick metal cable. He leapt back, afraid the tow cable might swing his way and obliterate him. Thankfully, it was nowhere close, and the truck was slowing to turn into the parking space anyway.

A Slig wearing a work vest came out, putting a well-worn yellow cap onto his head. He slammed a fist on the bed of the truck, and three Scrubs sat up groaning, and climbed out of the back.

Conar turned to the sleeping Mudokons, and was quick to tap them both with his Blunderbuss. They stirred, slowly standing back up. Just in time, too; the Slig had looked their way. He nodded before walking over to the passenger side. The door opened, and Conar heard the tell-tale sound of a Glukkon’s cheap dress shoes rapidly clattering. He was smoking an even cheaper cigar, and oil-stained suspenders over a hideously yellow plaid shirt. He sneered as he looked over at Conar and the Mudokons under his care, but his face softened as he saw the cab they came in with.

He hummed, running a few mental tallies.

“Quite a wreck,” he finally said. “Almost wish I’d seen the accident!”

He laughed, and if there was one thing any Slig learned quickly, it’s that a Glukkon’s laughter is contagious… or else. The Mudokons had no such obligation; while Slim and Mark were trying to keep their heads down, the three Scrubs in yellow loincloths just unloaded the truck of its six toolboxes. They politely waited by the door, struggling to stand up under the weight they were carrying.

“I take it you’re Clunk?” Conar asked.

“You ain’t as stupid as you look,” the Gluk snorted. “Why do ya ask?”

“Your guard over there says we need a ticket from you to get this scrap into the yard.”

Clunk turned around, seeing a wide-awake Slig waving his way from his booth, his magazine hidden from view.

“He’s right, you will need one. We gotta make sure we can’t fix it first.”

Meanwhile, his assistant Slig was watching the overly encumbered Mudokons. He was taking great pleasure in slowly opening the doors, at a couple of points even “accidentally” letting the doors fall a little, chuckling as the Scrubs groaned. Finally, he let them in, and they were able to set their equipment on the workbench.

“Right,” Conar nodded. “So when can we get started, sir? I’m already running late…”

“250 Moolah,” the Glukkon replied, simply. “We also gotta get your name and everything for our records. If we start going a little late, maybe I can let your boss now. Who knows?”

He leaned forward, enough to breathe smoke into Conar’s face.

“He might be feeling lenient and just dock your pay.”

He chuckled to himself, while Conar reached into his bag. Having only around 1400 Moolah to his name, this was quite a bit, but what choice did he have?

The other Slig happily accepted his payment, and turned towards his workforce.

“All right, get ‘er in so we can take a look!”

Conar and company watched as the cab was taken in, and followed when Clunk beckoned them in. They were directed to a lobby that had two very greasy chairs in it, as well as half another chair that was haphazardly lying against the wall. Clunk moved behind the front desk, where his assistant was waiting.

“So, you got an ID, ‘valued’ customer?”

“39872-A,” Conar said, automatically.

“Right. Place of employment?”

“Slog Hut 1884.”

“Quite a ways from here. What happened?”

“Got caught in some crossfire around home, sir.”

Clunk nodded.

“Right, we’ll see what we can do. You have a seat.”

Conar nodded, keeping the seat on his Pants rather than anything he could actually feel. The Mudokons, after one glare from the owner, shared the half-seat, keeping their feet splayed so they didn’t tip it over.

Clunk chuckled at the sight, and so Conar did too.

“Which of these chumps was the driver?”

Mark shrunk a bit, knowing what was going to come next, but before anyone else, Slim piped up.

“I was driving, sir.”

Mark was about to say something, but Slim’s elbow made a point against that. Clunk looked, and nodded.

“Brave Mud to admit that,” he said, turning back to Conar. “Make sure to get his license. Should have a number you can call on this phone here. They’ll take care of ‘im for losing company property, I hope.”

With that, he waddled over through the doorway, to the noises of metal clanging and tools hissing and whirring.

As soon as he was gone, Slim looked at the shaken Mark, then turned to Conar.

“Can you… can you pretend to call?”

“You ain’t tellin’ me what to do!” Conar replied. “I gotta call, that’s what he said…”

Slim’s look said it all, but he added “You want everyone to know where we are?”

“…Yeah, why don’t I just… not call, then?”

“Clunk’s probably gonna pop in at any moment. You really want to blow your cover here?”

Conar thought about it for a moment, then nodded. He’d have to ask about how Slim knew about this kind of thing later, but for now, he had a “call” to make to the taxi company. He stood up, holding a hand out expectantly. Mark looked at it for a moment, then sighed and produced a card from a pouch on his loincloth.

Conar snatched it and took a look. So he was supposed to call the Durtminch Taxi Service, but he punched random keys on the phone in rapid succession. He got a busy signal, but he pressed on.

“Yeah, hi… I wanted to report a Mud who drove through a gunfight…Yeah…We’re at Clunk’s… His name’s Mark…”

Clunk walked back in, watching while Conar finished his conversation.

“…ID, uh, 5928-22555…And this was 39872-A… Yeah, thanks.”

He looked up at the Glukkon.

“They said they’d discipline correctly.”

“Good,” Clunk nodded. “It’s important that they… learn. Anyway, we got some fixes underway. It’ll be ten minutes, but if it still don’t work, we’ll take it off your hands and getcha a ride.”

“Gotcha,” Conar nodded, walking back to take a seat.

Unfortunately, Clunk was staying at the desk, watching a monitor. No chance of using this time to rest, then; despite Conar’s reason for being late, he could still get reported for sleeping during work hours. Being late to the Slog Hut was one thing, but using this as an excuse to sleep was a one-way path to being detained until a co-worker could arrive and perform disciplinary action. Talking to the Mudokons was out of the question, too. No Glukkon liked seeing security being buddy-buddy with the workforce. So, he waited, listening to the sounds of mechanics hollering and metal clanging for ten minutes until, finally, the other Slig came back into the lobby.

“W-well,” he said, uneasily, “Got as fixed as we could, boss.”

The three Scrub mechanics walked in, covered in considerably more oil, soot, and burn marks than the Slig was.

“Well,” Clunk smiled, “Why don’t you have your driver friend there get the thing started, and we’ll see you off?”

Slim felt many eyes on him, and he slowly stood up. Mark followed suit, letting their half-chair slide and collapse onto the floor. He and Slim scrambled to get that back onto the wall, and then moved to follow the other Slig, with Conar following after.

He swallowed, climbing into the driver’s seat while Mark and Conar made it into the backseat.

“Hold up,” the head mechanic asked, raising a hand, “What’s the deal with the other Scrub?”

“You know better than to ask questions like that!” Clunk scolded, causing his Slig to wince. “It’s like you know nothing about keeping customers!”

He coughed, nearly dropping his cigar.

“Right then,” he continued, turning his attention to Conar through the window, “Explain why you’re commutin’ with a Mudokon!”

“Ah, y’see, er…”

“’M a student,” Slim meekly offered. “Y’see, he’s my instructor, isn’t that right, ‘Slim’?”

“I—” Mark started, before having his toe pressed by Conar’s metal foot. “Y-yeah, I am. L-lemme give ya a… refresher on how t’start this thing… yeah…”

He reached over, adjusting the levers to get the thing started. A rumble and whining noise, but nothing happened.

“Try again,” Clunk said.

“O-okay,” Mark nodded, having another go. Same result.

“Oy,” Clunk muttered, shaking his head. “All right, my boys’ll ger this into the scrapyard and we’ll getcha a new ride.”

“Actually,” Conar piped up. “I got two perfectly good Scrubs here. Betcha they could do with a bit of exercise, y’know what I’m saying?”

“Not gonna happen,” Clunk laughed. “Can’t have your Muds diving under a hunk of metal and escapin’, can we?”

“No sir,” Conar said, nodding a little too hastily. “Can’t have ‘em fleeing.”

He lifted his gun up meaningfully.

“I’m sure Tess and I could keep an eye on ‘em, though… heh heh…”

Clunk looked at him, and laughed.

“Ah, you really wanna teach ‘em a lesson, huh? Can’t blame ya for that; even a Mudokon should know not to drive into a firefight.”

He turned to his assistant.

“You focus on keeping our boys in line. Let our friend here take care of scrappin’ that piece of crap.”

“Er, all right, sir…”

It was hard to see with his own visor and the other Slig’s pilot-like goggles, but Conar could swear he was getting a side-eye from the guy as he turned to gather his mechanics.

Conar, for his part, simply shrugged, grabbing a ticket as it printed before giving a somewhat forceful jab to Slim’s back with the barrel of his gun.

“Get movin’, you two! I wanna see that cab in the scrap heap, and I wanna see it there now!”

He gave a bit of a chuckle to keep appearances, and the three of them moved the cab out. Well, Slim and Mark did, while Conar kept pace behind them, cradling “Tess” in his arms, still keeping it quite visible in the tried-and-true “Slig At Work” pose.

“Some escape,” Slim muttered under his breath. “Make me wish I was back shoveling Slog poo.”

“Wait, we’re escapin’?” Mark asked, perking up. “I can quit driving Sligs around? No more chokin’ on smoke?”

Before Mark could get too excited, though, he had to flinch as two shots rang out from behind him. Both he and Slim immediately put their hands over their heads, resting their faces onto the car’s trunk. They were just able to turn their heads enough to see Conar looking at them, his smoking gun pointed straight up in the air.

“Enough yapping!” he barked. “You’re slowin’ down when you do that!”

Mark was shaking a little, but Slim just sighed before beginning to push the cab again. On the plus side, the guard had woken up from that, and was already watching them pull up. Conar was already waving the ticket up for him, so he pulled the lever on the left of the control panel.

The three of them watched as the gate shook, groaning and creaking as it dragged along the ground. In the twenty-two seconds it took for it to open, Slim and Mark were able to take a breather, which they gratefully took. They almost didn’t notice when Conar shouted for them to start pushing again, but self-preservation kicked in regardless, and the cab was shoved through the gate again.

It soon became clear that they were not moving past multiple piles of discarded metal, but instead walking on one enormous heap. There was enough rust to pass as dirt if you weren’t walking on it, and they could hear metal creak not just under their feet, but everywhere. In the distance, a stack collapsed onto itself. A crane with an enormous magnet lifted junk into a new pile, and a bulldozer shoved more onto it.

As Conar looked around, the two Mudokons took note of the red eyes floating around. They didn’t seem to be taking any interest in the trio, instead panning over the various machines.

“Now, let’s get this thing outta the way,” Conar said. “I think I see some room over there.”

He gestured over to a place between an old FeeCo train car and a pile of refrigerators. It was a tight fit, but nothing a bit of elbow grease and Slig threats couldn’t take care of.

“Right,” Conar said, “We should find a place to lay low, then. We can figure things out from there.”

He looked either way, and found the door was taken off the train car. That was as good an option as any to look, but Slim put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from going into it.

“There’s a hideout in the fridges already,” he said. “Might wanna check that first.”

Conar paused to look at the pile on the other side, but outside of various graffiti tags, he didn’t see anything of interest. Besides, the train car was right here.

“I don’t know what you’re tryin’,” he said, pulling his shoulder away from the Mudokon, “but if you think you can pull one over me, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“I’m not—”

“Get in the train!” Conar shouted. “That’s an order!”

“Fine,” Slim sighed, clambering in. It was dark and cold down there, and the air had a metallic scent that was just powerful enough to be uncomfortable. Mark and Conar followed, landing next to him.

“It ain’t much,” Conar admitted, “but at least we should be hidden pretty well here.”

“I guess,” Slim shrugged, while Mark just nodded.

“It’s been a long night, so we oughta rest for a bit. We’ll work on getting started later.”

Conar watched as the Mudokons found a darker corner, huddling together for warmth. Despite the conditions, they found sleep far more easily than Conar did. The Expresso had long since lost its kick, but this was a far cry from the bed he was used to. What was worse, he was watching over recently-freed Scrubs. He could manage one, but what if the two were to gang up on him? Hell, Slim was already giving him orders! He was already getting a lot of nerve!

#oddworld fic #oddworld conar's ambition #Oddworld #draft 1 #chapter 4 #oddworld conars ambition full chapter

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starkatana · 5 years

Text

Ageless

It’s been a few years since you’ve seen your best friend, Touya Todoroki. You are a paramedic and he is a pro-hero, just both living busy lives. There’s been an incident and you have been called to the scene. There you see Touya has been injured, but you still have a job that needs to be done.

Angst and Fluff

Touya Todoroki/Dabi x Reader

AU:

Dabi is a Todoroki.

Touya never became a villain Dabi, but is a pro-hero.

Happy Todoroki Family.

You also have a healing quirk.

Based off the Song: Ageless - The Home Team

You and a team of paramedics were ordered to work on the field at a devastation site scene. Some Pro-Heroes and Villains were in a fight, ruining buildings and getting civilians caught in the crossfire. Your orders, create first aid stations, help those in need, and help where you can.

You were in charge. Arriving at the scene there were police officers, firefighters, and volunteers, cleaning and helping civilians out. You immediately start directing paramedics where to go. While you and a few others set up first aid stations.

It was at that moment, between the chaos of people demanding your help, wondering where to go, or what they can do to help. It was a free second, where you just so happened to turn around and saw him on a gurney. The sirens and the yelling around you went mute as your brain hyper-focused on him and the paramedics around him.

“Pro-Hero Dabi. Name-”

“Touya Todoroki.” You instinctively run up to their side. And trying to quickly look him over, you tell them everything you know about him. “Quirk: Cremation. Blood type: B negative. Age: 25. Affiliation: Endeavor Hero Agency. His suit helps regulate his body temperature and is compression material. Without it, his body is incompatible to his fire quirk.”

“You know each other?”

“Too well.” Touya managed. “Long time no see, y/n.”

You cry as you run alongside the gurney. “Too long, but please don’t talk and try not to move.”

“If I die. I’m haunting you first.”

The floodgates opened. “Shut up. You’re gonna live.” You smile through the tears.

Touya gives you a weak smile and goes for your hand. You give it a small squeeze.

You arrive at the ambulance and instinctively you try to get on.

“Y/n, you have to step away now.” Another paramedic ordered.

You stop in your tracks and nod. Both knowing full well, you are too involved to be on his case. You let them load him into the ambulance without you.

He tries to sit up to see you, but the paramedics tell him to lie back down.

“Y/n!”

“You’ll be fine, Touya!” you cried, “I’ll see you soon.”

And the ambulance shut their doors and drove off. You knew you couldn’t work on his case. You knew this is what you had to do. If you had gone your feelings would have gotten in the way.

After high school, you guys stayed in touch all throughout your college years, while he focused on becoming a hero. It was after all of that when you guys were unable to see each other. You were working at the hospital. He was doing hero things, being famous, and making guest appearances. Your schedules just couldn’t line up to meet with each other. Then when you had plans to meet with each other, one of you had an emergency to deal with.

Until now that is.

You pushed Touya out of your mind. You also had a job to do. It was a long day out in the field as you healed people, bandaged them up, did check-ups, and filled out paperwork. By the end of it all, everything you could do with what you had and the time given was done. You and your team picked up your stations and made your way back to the hospital.

Once you were there, you sent everyone home, you filled out some paperwork, and before calling it a night you had to find out if Touya was here. You changed out of your work uniform you went to the front desk.

“Hey, Celia.”

“Hey, how was the field?”

“Just another exciting day on the job.”

“Well go home and get some rest. We both know you earned it.”

“I will I just need to know, did we get a patient under the name of Todoroki today?”

“Y/n?”

You turn around and immediately Rei Todoroki wraps you in a hug.

“It’s been so long.” She hugs you. “C’mon, Touya can’t wait to see you.”

You smile. You wish Celia a good night as you follow Rei to Touya’s room.

“How have you been?”

“Lovely dear,” Rei responds. “I’d be lovelier if I heard from you more.”

“I’m sorry.” You let out a defeated sigh. “Time has been getting the better of me.”

“Well there’s no need to apologize, we just have to make up for lost time.” She puts your arm around you and gives you a side squeeze. “I’m so happy you seem to be doing so well. Everyone’s going to be so excited to see you.”

Walking into the hospital room, the entire Todoroki family was there. And your eyes lit up, it had been so long since you had last seen them all.

“Yumi! Sho! Nats!” you hug each of them in that order.

“It’s so good to see you, y/n.” Enji greeted giving you a hug as well.

“Please continue to ignore the injured person in bed.”

“How are you Touya?”

“We all miss seeing y/n around dear.”

You smile at Rei, “I’m sorry I don’t visit more often.”

“I’m just giving Touya some grief dear.”

“Besides my emotional abuse from my own mother, I just have a broken rib and some bruising.”

“Ah, so no hero work for at least a month.” You pointed out.

“Yeah gives Touya some time to learn how to do paperwork.” Enji laughed.

“He still can’t do paperwork?”

“He doesn’t do much.”

Touya rolls his eyes, “Oh haha.”

“Okay everyone, enough about me catch me up what's going on? Shoto you’re so big what the heck happened.”

The last time you saw the Todorokis was at your college graduation. Shoto was 12. Now he is 15 and is a freshman at UA. He’s in the hero course and preparing for the sports festival coming up.

“Natsuo you haven’t changed at all if anything your hair just keeps getting spikier.”

Natsuo is now 19 and a freshman in college. You had really inspired him as a kid with your healing quirk. Right now he’s studying medical welfare in school. And thanks to all of your tutoring, he learned a lot of good habits on how to push him to learn more.

“And Yumi, I saw on Face Page, congrats on getting engaged to bird boy!”

“Thanks, y/n.”

“Let’s see the ring!”

You and Fuyumi have always been close like sisters. Fuyumi is a school teacher now and her fiancé bird boy, Hawks, is working with Touya and Enji at the Endeavor Hero Agency. You’ll never forget the time Fuyumi was scared about dating him and now look at where they are.

“Man I’m the worst. I’m so sorry that I haven’t seen you guys in ages.”

“You can make it up to me by going to the sports festival.” Sho beamed.

“It’s a deal.”

“We still love you, y/n.” Rei said, “You’re always welcome over.”

“But as much as I love catching up, we still have class tomorrow,” Fuyumi said gesturing at Shoto and Natsuo.

“We also have to go to work tomorrow, Rei.”

Rei sighed, “we’re going to get so much paperwork and fan mail for Touya.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just feel better soon dear.”

“Well, the next time we see each other will be soon and definitely at the UA sports festival.”

Everyone agrees, say their good-byes, and eventually makes there way out leaving you alone with Touya. You sit next to his bed while the TV plays in the background.

“How do your arms feel?”

“Sore, but they’ll heal in a few days.”

“Here.”

You take a seat next to him in bed and taking one arm and you slowly rub your hands up and down his arm to heal his skin. Followed by the other arm. Just like you used to back in high school when you were quirk training.

“How does this feel?”

“Much better.”

You smile at him and with one hand on each arm; you follow his arms up, activating your healing quirk, going along his shoulders and then at the top of his chest, where all of his dark spots are.

“You treat all your patients like his?”

“Only my favorite ones.” You wink.

He lifts his face to meet yours. His piercing turquoise eyes staring into your soul. Even though it’s only been two years, it felt like so much time to change. Yet he was still your Touya. He still dyes his white hair red. His ears were still pierced in all sorts of places. There’s a scar on his right nostril from the time he got his nose pierced to get a reaction besides love from his parents. They loved it because they loved him; he quickly got rid of it when he accidentally pulled it out while in the shower.

Your heart skips a beat. You hold his face in your hands continually using your quirk to take away any of his pain caused by his fire quirk. He looks at you with those half-lid eyes. He holds your hand in place on his cheek and brings up his other hand to hold your cheek. Your face flares up.

“I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Touya.”

“I don’t want the next time we meet again is because I’m injured. I missed you and I’m sorry I should’ve done this sooner.” And slowly but gently goes in for a kiss and you return the passion.

The kiss was long and filled all of your senses. His kiss was so soft and filled you with a warmth you couldn’t describe. He took your breath away. You didn’t want the kiss to end, but it couldn’t last forever. He continued to rest his hand on your cheek but placed his forehead against yours.

“I’ve always been yours.” He sighs. “I’ve been thinking about you so much and how much I don’t want to be away from you anymore.”

“Toys.” You purse your lips as tears welled in your eyes.

“You've been nothing but the best thing on my mind.” He smiles at you. “You can’t mistake attraction. You’re everything I’ve been missing, y/n. I love you.”

“Goddammit, Touya.” You face the ceiling to stop yourself from crying but the tears fall out anyway. “I’ve cried too much today.”

He wipes your tears away, “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be because I love you too.”

He pulls you in for a hug. “We’re fools.”

“Yes, but what matters now is that we can decide what happens next in our lives.”

“I don’t care as long as you’re always in mine.”

“Always.”

You pull out of the hug to look at him again. You have no words, but you’re overflowing with happiness and smiles.

“You must be tired,” he tries to scoot over, “you can sleep next to me if you want.”

“Touya, you’re a patient in the hospital I work at. I’m not going to be caught in bed with a patient.”

“Stupid rules.”

“I will sit next to you though.”

“I guess I’ll take what I can get.”

You take a seat in the chair next to his bed, hold his hand, and feel your body relax.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Hm?” you answer trying not to fall asleep.

“Do you still only date guys that you’ve at least been on a date with?”

You shift so you face Touya and not the TV.

“Why?”

“I think you know why.” He pushes your hair out of your face. And gives you a soft smile.

“I just want to hear you say it.”

“Well, I want to know if you want to go on a date with me? Or if I can just ask you out without being rejected. I want to do this right.”

“Yes.”

“Which?”

“Whichever you want.”

“Both.”

“Yes.” You hum contently.

“Good night, y/n.”

“Sleep tight.”

You wake up the next morning before Touya. You go freshen up in the bathroom when Fuyumi and Hawks come into the room.

“Hey, guys.”

“Hey y/n.” she gives you a hug, “you remember hawks.”

“Bird boy!” you give him a hug too, “it’s good to see you again.”

He gives you a big grin, “you too.”

“So,” Fuyumi begins, “Are you guys dating yet?”

You don’t say anything you just smile and feel your face go red.

“Let me just say, it’s about time you guys.”

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danandthereader · 6 years

Note

I have a bit of a strange fic request. It would be an alternative world (you can choose what kind of world, DnD, or sexbang world) where Danny is mind controlled and forced to fight the reader, but the reader refuses to fight because they don’t want to harm them, so they get seriously injured as a consequence. Then Danny comes to and sees what he’s done, and cries as he holds the readers bloodied body close while they slowly slip away?

A/N: So I’m not gonna lie, this prompt has been in my box for a while, but I have been so so excited to get to it ! ♡ AU stuff is so fun to explore and write about, and I’m always a big sucker for a good dose of angst. This prompt honestly game me so much muse and I had to resist from writing a whole dang novel just to fill it. I hope it’s okay that the AU I chose was the gtah!mob au (basically a crime au involving a bunch of Youtube LetsPlayers based in a GTA-esque universe, started by the RT/AH community with the Heist series), as it’s the one I know best and been involved with for the longest.I will be tagging this with the appropriate tags just in case (death, blood, violence, et all). And I hope you enjoy - I had so much fun writing this !For reference: Sexbang is Danny’s codename, Mogar is Michael (Jones) from Roosterteeth, Grandmaster is Ross, Starbomb is the name of the Grumps gang, and The Hunters is the Achievement Hunter gang !

NOT GOING ANYWHERE

The job had gone from bad to worse to disastrous in a matter on minutes, and in your professional opinion, it was all Sexbang’s fault. You loved that boy, however much in secret, and you knew that he hadn’t meant to do it on purpose, send all the gangs scattering and blessing the shotgun shell rains down on the lot of you, but those too-careful hands and precise mind were risky assets in a world like this.Laying in the rubble of what used to be a bank wall, you shifted, then groaned, hand finding your side. It was warm, too warm, and sticky. When you pulled your hand back, there was crimson. Great. The bank lost a wall and you lost a chunk of your waist. Take a guess on which one could be repaired and would live to see another day. Letting your head fall back, the ruble bit into your skull, but you got used to it after just a second. There was a pretty surefire chance you were going to die here alone, caked in dirt and ash and your last thoughts being of Danny and weather he made it out alive.As if on cue, with tears pricking the corners of your eyes, you heard a heartbreakingly familiar voice. “Shit, no!”

In your vision was the burnt-orange sky, sunset coming slow, ash floating through the air like snow, and the far-off glow of fire. It was a sight you’d become accustomed to in the past few minutes. At least, if you could see, you were still alive.Then there was a face - dirty and sweaty, blood smeared from the forehead down from an obvious wound - and heavy-hung chestnut curls. His eyes were a terrible mix of even worse emotions you never wanted to see on him, everything from terror to regret to guilt. You getting caught in this wasn’t his intention; you knew it. “Hey, idiot,” you gritted out, smiling a dark pink smile you could taste. He was silent, tossing rubble aside to clear a spot next to you. “I think you’re forgetting that I’m not a Hunter.” That didn’t help, because there were tears on his end, rolling down his filthy cheeks. “I know, I know - I’m so sorry. I didn’t - I fucked up so bad - I saw Mogar and that idiot Brit kid he hangs with and I panicked and -” Trying to move again, you put a hand to your injured side and slowly sat up, the pain shooting up to your throat and knocking you back. Guess not.He noticed that, and instead of finding a spot next to you, he came to your head, and knelt down. Scooting up, he lifted your head into his lap, and settled. “Why’re you even fuckin’ here?” he choked out, the smile coming to his mouth not at all happy. “Grandmaster called, said you might need back-up.” For the right price, you were back-up, you were a getaway car, you were an arms dealer, you had the right information. You could be anything anyone wanted. That’s how it worked in this world.“God, I’ll fuckin’ kill him.” He didn’t sound too sure on that though. “Ah, don’t worry about it,” you replied, voice rough. “He didn’t know this would happen.” No one did, not even the injured members of Starbomb and The Hunters and whoever else got caught in the crossfire. None of them were as bad as you, though, that much was for sure. It felt like the only two who were around were you and Dan. “Hey, seriously.” Taking your unbloodied hand, you set it gently to his cheek. “Just… Stay with me. Okay?” Your hand fell to your stomach, resting there. His laid over it softly.

There was no talking for a long while, just the sound of burning something not far off and the settling of ash around you. Somewhere very far off was sirens, police and firefighters and ambulances, all coming to the scene of destruction under you. Yet he seemed to be in no rush to get out of there, and you knew you weren’t about to go moving anytime soon.“Danny.” Your voice was much softer than before, and the blood was beginning to feel like it was rushing out of your side. The hand you had there hadn’t moved, but it felt like it was drenched. There couldn’t be much blood left in you now, it felt like it had run all down your side and into the broken pieces of cement poking into your back and probably soaked into your love’s jeans. “Is it getting dark?” Your vision was tunneling black around the edges even though you hadn’t stopped staring up at him this whole time. “N- No, it’s -” It took him that long to get it. “Oh no.”You wanted to tell him to not move, to not panic, that it was fine. Death had long since been a concept you had accepted - all of you had - and it was going to come with a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in maybe forever. But the words, though in your mouth, wouldn’t come out. They felt too heavy. “No, please, baby I -” His hands were fluttering over your stomach, your side, touching, making you seethe. Still alive. Not much longer. “I can call - I can - I can-” He was crying, breaking now, and the tears came to your eyes too, falling fast and easy. “Danny.” He looked at you, dark eyes watery, framed by dirt and burning sunset and blackness, and you smiled a painful. “I love you.” He laughed a one-off, loud, heartbroken sound. “I love you too,” he answered, both his hands finding your one.

With a rise, and no fall, the hand went cold, and he was left alone.

#danny sexbang #dan avidan #dan x reader #dan avidan x reader #req fill #anonymous #answered #blood /#violence /#death /

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voightsgirl · 7 years

Text

crossfire: volume i - chapter 9

a/n hope you guys like this new chapter!! the story is beginning to shape up nicely, i think :) & previous chapters can be found here

☆ photographs ☆

Avery was cold. And hungry. They’d given her clean clothes when she’d shown up at the district in her old jeans and parka, teeth chattering and knees wobbling, slightly dizzy at the combination of having not eaten a proper meal for about three days and having just witnessed a murder, but as she sat in the break room, she felt really, really cold. She was nursing a mug of coffee – the worst coffee she’d ever tasted, without a doubt – and trying to will herself to feel something. She should be devastated at the death of her friend. Heartbroken. But instead she just felt completely empty. And God, she was cold.

They had put her into a group home last night, just to sleep, and then the Sergeant had come to pick her up that morning so that she didn’t have to stay longer. He’d just sat her down in the break room, made her a mug of steaming coffee and told her to wait. It had been early when she first arrived, and there was only one cop there – sitting at a desk in the corner, a beanie hat on, and he appeared to be slumped over his computer keyboard. “Alvin!” the Sergeant had barked, and the cop had woken up.

“Oh, hey,” he’d said, sounding slightly dazed.

The sergeant had just made a strange noise somewhere between a tutting sound and a snort, and shook his head.

Now that she’d been there for several hours, Avery had taken in every aspect of the room. The huge “MEN AT WORK” sign over the sink and the dent in the table and the rip in the fabric of the couch. She’d gotten used to the smell – coffee and carpet, if she had to describe it – but every time she looked at the fridge on one side of the room or the corkboard on the other, she found herself staring at the photographs pinned there. There was one that she particularly liked, of the entire unit, save for the Sergeant, whom she assumed was taking the photograph. They were at a bar somewhere, and they all had a beer in one hand and the other draped over another member of their team. Erin was right in the middle. She was laughing at something, and her head was slightly tilted back, her mouth open and her hair falling onto Halstead’s arm, which was sprawled over her shoulder. She looked so happy.

There was one of Burgess and Sergeant Platt from the desk downstairs; one of Atwater and the young, hot one whom Avery presumed must be Ruzek; one of Antonio, a blonde woman and two kids; a photo of the entire unit alongside a bunch of firefighters; one of the desk-sleeping cop and the Sergeant alongside a woman – one of their wives maybe? – two teenagers and a young girl. The young girl had wild, curly dark hair and a big, toothless grin, and one of the teens was a boy with a chiseled jawline and a slightly disgruntled-looking expression, as if he had been caught off guard. And Erin. Avery frowned. The photo was old – the Sergeant had brown hair instead of grey and his face looked far less worn, and Erin looked like she couldn’t be more than eighteen.

Avery was so engrossed in the photographs that she jumped when the door opened, spilling coffee over her hand. “Shit,” she swore loudly, and immediately put her hand in her mouth to numb the burn of the coffee. She looked up and saw Erin leaning against the door frame, frowning slightly.

“You alright?” she asked.

“What’s it to you?” Avery spat back. She didn’t mean it to come out so rudely. After a few hours – more than that, really, since she had barely slept that night – to think about what had happened the previous day, Avery had begun to feel slightly bad about the way that she’d treated Erin. Some of the things she said weren’t exactly fair, she knew that, but she was still angry. “Sorry,” she added, consciously. “I’m fine.”

“Here, let me see,” Erin reached over, taking Avery’s hand. The second she touched it, Avery snatched it back.

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“Well, at least run it under the tap,” Erin ordered, and Avery hesitantly complied.

After a few minutes of only the sound of the running tap and Erin nervously tapping her foot, she switched off the water and sat down.

“So what do you want? To ask me more questions?” she stared back down into the coffee cup and the murky brown liquid that had spilled all over the table in front of her, refusing to make eye contact.

“Um,” Erin began, and took a deep breath. “Actually, no.”

“Well, if you’re here to apologize, you can save it. I’m over it.”

Erin raised an eyebrow. “Yeah,” she said sarcastically. “I can see that.”

“Whatever,” Avery muttered.

“Okay, listen.” Erin drew up a chair to the opposite side of the table and sat down on it the wrong way round, her legs either side of the backrest so that she could lean forward enough to engage in a conversation but still remain detached and impersonal. It was a tactic that she liked to use when interrogating suspects, especially ones that she thought were likely to get under her skin. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Avery sighed and rolled her eyes. “Here we go. I don’t want a handout, okay?”

“I’m not offering you a handout,” Erin snapped. “Will you just listen to me?”

Avery just continued staring at the coffee on the table, and started tracing patterns in the droplets.

“You have two options right now. We need to put you in protective custody –”

“What?” Avery looked up suddenly. “Why?”

“Because this case is bigger than just Luca.”

“What do you mean?”

Erin sighed. “Okay. None of what I say is going to be repeated, but we’re the Intelligence unit for a reason. We’ve been sitting on a ring of drug smugglers who are funneling drugs into the city and selling to the rich white kids who then distribute them. They use the kids as a way to get to the money in the city, but the kids are getting too big for their boots and dropping like flies.”

“And?”

“And Luca’s uncle was the head of the whole operation.”

“Holy shit,” Avery breathed.

“You can say that again,” Erin smiled slightly.

“So why does this mean that I need to be in protective custody?” Avery frowned. “I’m white, but I’m definitely not rich. I don’t think I’m on the top of their hit list.”

“Well, turns out that Luca was working as a Confidential Informant for a gang unit working to take them down – we’ve just found out about this now – and so that means that they know we’re onto them.”

“Okay, but I still don’t understand what this has to do with me…?” Avery looked confused still.

“You’re a witness. Not just to the murder of a homeless boy, but your testimony puts the entire operation at risk. If they found out that you saw the killer, and can ID him and link him back to their organization, then we’ll be able to do some serious damage in a courtroom.”

“And if Luca’s uncle is willing to kill his own nephew to cover up their operation, I’m sure he wouldn’t think twice about popping me, huh?”

Erin just swallowed, pursing her lips together and shrugging her shoulders slightly in lieu of a response.

“So what are these two options?” Avery inquired.

“Well,” the detective in front of her took a deep breath. “It’s up to you whether protective custody is a fake name and a new foster home out of state, or…”

“Or what?”

“Or you can come and live with me until the case is solved and we know that you’re safe.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Erin shrugged. Now it was time to give Avery the tough love that she knew she needed – that she herself had needed. “That’s the offer. You’ll be in Chicago. You’ll be close to whatever other friends you have. And you’ll be able to help with the case and get updates on how it’s going. You’ll be a hundred percent safe under my watch but we can’t guarantee the same out of state if someone finds out where you’ve gone and who you really are.”

“So what’s the catch?” Avery asked.

“The catch is that you’ll be living with me, for starters, which means that you’re gonna have to learn to forgive me, or at least tolerate me. And Detective Halstead.”

“Woah. Halstead from the interrogation, Halstead? You live together?”

“We’re dating, yes. Not the point.” Avery smirked. “Anyway,” Erin continued. “You can come and go as you please. But you’ll have a roof and a bed and food and someone to talk to. Of course, it depends how long the case lasts, but I can get you a place in a school. I can get any criminal records you have sealed. And I will do absolutely everything that I can to help you make a better life for yourself.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you so willing to help me?”

Erin sighed, wanting to keep this as impersonal as possible – a business proposition more than a promise – but she should probably have known better than anyone that business, especially police business, is about as personal as it gets.

“Because when I was your age I was in the exact same position,” she said. “And a cop helped me the same way I am trying to help you, and now that cop is my boss, and I have a life better than anything I could have imagined when I was your age.”

Avery stared at her. She had no idea. “Is that where the photo is from?” she mumbled.

It was Erin’s turn to look confused. “What…photo?”

Her eyes followed Avery’s arm as it extended slightly and gestured towards the old, torn one of her, Voight, Al, Lexi and Justin pinned to the corkboard. “Yeah,” she whispered. Her eyes began to sting slightly at the tears that immediately sprung to the surface when she saw that the photograph had Justin and Lexi in it, too. She had completely forgotten that that photo even existed, let alone that it was pinned up in their office.

“Who are the others?” Avery asked.

Erin coughed, trying to cover the thickness in her voice. “Uh, Voight you know, obviously – he was the one who took me in – and Alvin, who you’ve probably met, and his wife, Meredith, before they split up. Al’s daughter Lexi, and Voight’s son Justin.”

“Where are they now?”

At the look on Erin’s face, Avery backtracked.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s – it’s okay,” Erin shook her head.

You need to set the parameters for this relationship, Erin. That was what the social worker had told her when she took Avery in the first time, five years ago. If you want her to be honest with you, you have to be honest with her. She took a deep breath.

“Justin died about three years ago now. He was twenty four.”

“How did he die?” Avery asked slowly. She didn’t want to be nosy, but she genuinely wanted to know – she had been so caught up in her self-pity, so caught up in this vision of Erin being a tough-as-nails cop who only lived to serve others, that she had never even considered the possibility that she had other things going on in her life.

Erin just shook her head. “That’s a story for another time,” she was fighting the tears, Avery noticed. “Lexi…” Erin continued. “She died too. The very next year.”

“Sorry,” Avery said. She hadn’t meant to push.

Another shake of the head. “Listen, Avery, I’m not helping you because I want to make amends with you, okay?” she changed the subject. “I just want to see you get better. I’m not expecting you to decide now, I’ll give you until the end of my shift, and then, if you want to come and live with me, I’ll set it up. If you don’t, you’ll go to a group home in the center of the city for a few days, and then you’ll transfer to Indianapolis as soon as we get the paperwork done and all the official statements that we need from you regarding the case. Or, you can live with me, see how you like it, get over your petty teenage resentment to me and try not to ask any more difficult questions, and then you’ll have until the end of the case to decide where you want to go from there.”

Avery was about to snap at her for the comment about petty teenage resentment, but when she looked up, the detective was smiling.

“Why should I trust you?” Avery whispered.

Erin opened her mouth, but Avery cut her off.

“Why should I believe anything that comes out of your mouth when I know you’re just gonna chuck me back into the system again the second I’ve helped you with your case?”

The expression on Erin’s face had changed from extremely hurt to extremely angry in a millisecond.

“Why should you –” she near-shouted, but stopped herself mid-sentence. Taking a breath and unclenching the fists that had tightened unconsciously at her sides, she continued, “because I am the only person right now who is fighting for you.” She spat out every word with as much power as she could, chewing them around in her mouth and then firing them at the girl in front of her as if they were bullets. Good. She wanted them to leave a mark.

Before Avery could respond, Erin left, slamming the door shut behind her.

☆ ☆ ☆

thank you for reading!! if you’d like to be notified when it’s updated either head over to my ff.net account or message me and i’ll tag you at the end of the post :)

@allenting @sophiaxjesse @writteninthestarsandthesky @riverdaleangels @chillmydude

#chicago pd #erin lindsay #jay halstead #linstead #linstead fic #mine #myfics #cpd #crossfire #crossfire:1:9

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multi-goodness · 7 years

Text

Worth Fighting For

Hey guys! Happy Chicago Fire day (or night now haha). As promised here is the story of Sylvie being shot finally. I hope I did this story justice, but it is a long one since I had plenty of my own ideas. I may do another story since I wanted her injured longer but I was already up to 5k words when Antonio found out, so her fighting for her life would have made it too long. Enjoy!

------

Sylvie was in the middle of eating her cereal when the alarm above her blared. She silently prayed hoping that it wasn’t for her, or just wasn’t for her.

“Ambulance 61, gunshot victim.”

Sylvie sighed as she jolted up from her seat at the table and ran out of the firehouse. She ran towards the ambulance and got inside. Gabby had to take care of something this morning and Boden asked if she wanted a partner for a few hours or if she wanted to be alone.

Knowing that he was going to get Chout to help her for a few hours, she politely declined. The last thing she needed was someone so chirpy in the morning. Sylvie thought she was a happy person, but he had her beat. Especially with the recent breakup with Antonio, she just needed the peace and quiet at times; something she wouldn’t get with him.

As she drove to the scene, she prayed that it wasn’t a bad gunshot wound where she needed someone else’s help or anything. Boden told her that he was going to tell the dispatcher to only send in calls that wasn’t hard for her to do. Honestly, Sylvie needed the distraction. So, it didn’t matter to her either way, as long as no one died on her.

Once she made it to the scene, she parked the ambulance and she got out. She looked around for the gunshot victim and figured it was in an alleyway or something, so before she went to look, she grabbed her paramedic bag.

She closed the ambulance door and she took off, looking for the person that needed help.

“Hey, did someone call for an ambulance?” She questioned.

A few seconds later, she heard a low moaning sound and followed the voice. As soon as she saw the young boy, laying in a corner, she rushed over.

“Hi, I’m a paramedic and I’m going to help you.” She said in a calm tone, hoping to calm the boy down.

“No, you need to go. Go, get out of here.” The boy advised her, which puzzled Sylvie.

“I’m not leaving you. It’s up to you if you want medical care, but it’s my job to patch you up.” She told the boy who looked terrified.

“Then hurry. He’s going to hurt you.” The boy said.

“Who?” She saw the boy start to close his eyes. “No, stay awake. Don’t close your eyes!” Sylvie said, panicking.

“If I were you, I would just walk away and act like you never came here.” An Older man’s voice said behind her and she turned to looked at him. He had a gun pointed at her, but she swallowed her fear. She went through something similar like this, but unlike last time, she was more confident this time.

“No. He needs my help!” She exclaimed as she opened the paramedic bag that sat beside her and started looking for the bandages, but then she heard a loud gunshot and she jumped. As she looked over at the young man, she saw that this guy shot him in the head. It was no use trying to save his life now, nothing she could do would bring him back. Which pissed off Sylvie.

“Why the hell did you do that for?!” She exclaimed. “He was only 19! He had his whole life ahead of him!”

“Lady, shut up! Just shut up!” He said with a threatening tone, but the way Sylvie was feeling, she wasn’t the weak person as before.

“No! You hear that?” She questioned as she listened to the police sirens. “The police are coming. There is no way you can get away!” Oh, how much she wished Antonio was still a detective.

She saw that the guy felt like he was about to get caught, he had a worry look on his face but then Sylvie saw something changed in his expression.

He walked over to her, keeping the gun pointed at her. “Get me out of here. If you don’t, I will shoot you just like I shot him.” He threatened her.

Sylvie saw the look in his eyes and knew he had nothing to lose. Although she was still mourning the loss of Antonio, the last thing she wanted to do was die.

“Okay okay.” She agreed. She thought that he would have a runaway car that he wanted her to get inside, but instead he asked her where she parked her ambulance.

“That will be a stupid move. Once my Chief finds out I’m in danger, he’s going to track down my ambulance.” She said, which was true.

“I know this. I just want to drive a little away and then we can ditch the ambulance.”

“We?” Sylvie repeated. “Where are you taking me?” She questioned as they neared the ambulance.

“No questions! Now, be quiet. Also, get rid of your radio and cell phone. Throw them on the ground!” He instructed and she did as she was told.

She just figured if she did whatever he asked her to do, she would make it out of this alive.

After she threw her things on the ground, he pushed her in the driver’s seat as he got inside the passenger side. “Drive!” He demanded.

Sylvie sighed and she pulled away after a few seconds. Please, Antonio, anyone come find me, she thought. It was weird to want her ex-boyfriend to come save her, but if anyone could find her, she knew it would be him. He was too good at his job, and the only one that wouldn’t rest until she was found.

------

“Huh. I wonder what is taking Sylvie so long at the call.” Otis complimented. Although his crush for Sylvie faded away when she started dating Antonio, she was still a close friend of his.

“Probably because she’s alone so the paperwork and everything could take longer.” Stella explained, but she was a little worried also. She wished she could have been the paramedic for a few hours until Gabby came but knew Chief wouldn’t like losing one firefighter even for a few hours.

“Do you want to go head over there?” Herrmann asked. Since Casey was gone for a few hours with Gabby, he was the lieutenant in charge.

“First let’s try to radio her because maybe she’s just stuck at the hospital or maybe she went on another call?” Stella suggested.

Cruz nodded his head and he stood up. He headed out of the diner area as Otis looked over at Stella.

“This happened before. Sylvie and her old partner Mills were kidnapped but luckily we were able to find them.”

Stella took in a deep breath. “But if she is missing---if something happened to her---she’s all alone.” Stella grimaced at the thought of Brett being alone with some strange guy---or woman for that matter---and they didn’t know where she was at.

“Hey, for all we know she’s safe and could be driving back to the firehouse right now.” Herrmann was trying to assure his team, but he had a bad feeling about this, a very bad feeling about this.

A few minutes later, Cruz walked back in the dining area. “I tried to radio her but got no answer.”

Everyone looked at each other worriedly.

“Let’s go. We’re firefighters. We don’t sit around and wait for news, we go out and figure it out on our own. If Brett Is in trouble, we need to know so we can notify the police.” Herrmann said as he stood up.

As they rushed out of the firehouse, they ran over to the Truck and put on their equipment. Although they weren’t running in a burning building, just in case they got a call while they were out looking for Brett.

Since Cruz was a part of the Squad, he knew he couldn’t go. Even though he really wanted to. “Here is the address she was last at.” He told Otis since he was the driver.

“What’s going on?” Severide asked as he walked out of the door. He was in his office when he heard the commotion out here.

“I’ll fill you in.” Cruz told him as he walked over to him.

----

A few minutes later, Otis drove onto the scene that Brett was last at. The scene was filled with cops and all their stomachs were filled with anxiety. They weren’t sure what they were walking into.

They climbed out of the truck as Herrmann walked over to the police officers. He was about to ask what happened when Voight called out his name.

He turned around, trying to hide the bad feeling in his stomach. Luckily, being a firefighter, he was used to this feeling.

“Hey Sarge.” He shook hands with Voight. “What happened here?” He asked.

“We think it was a gang retaliation. We’re not sure.” He admitted. “What are you guys doing here?” He asked.

“Our paramedic, Sylvie Brett, was the paramedic called onto this scene, but she has been gone for an hour. Do you know where she is?” He asked, hoping she was just filling out a report but as Herrmann looked away, he couldn’t locate the ambulance. What the hell happened?

“After I was finished here, I was going to stop by the firehouse to talk to Chief, but now since you’re here, I can tell you.” Voight said, and as Herrmann looked at his face, he could sense something was wrong.

“What is it? Is she okay?” Herrmann was almost too afraid to ask. What if she got in the way of the crossfire and was injured or worse? That was something he couldn’t think of.

“We don’t know. We think the killer figured she was a witness and couldn’t afford that, so he took her.”

“Took her?!” Herrmann asked as his eyes widened in shocked. “Sarge, you have to find her. She’s alone. Who knows what this maniac is doing to her?”

“I know. We think he took the ambulance so he could get away. We’re hoping as soon as he feels like he’s safe, he’ll let her go….”

“But you think as soon as he’s finish with her, he’s going to kill her.” Herrmann finished his sentence and Voight nodded his head.

“Listen, I’ll meet you at the firehouse to discuss this further with Chief, so I’ll see you there?” Voight suggested and Herrmann nodded his head.

“I’ll see you there.” He shook his head as he walked away from Voight.

-----

The whole ride back to the firehouse was a silent one. All their minds were focused on Brett and hoping she was safe.

As they made it back to the firehouse and Otis parked the Truck they climbed out and quickly got out of their gear.

Cruz immediately rushed over to them. “What happened?”

As soon as Cruz asked that questioned, the rest of the Squad came over. They were all a family so knowing one of them was in danger really hurt them.

“She’s---she’s uh, missing.” Herrmann announced to everyone. “Listen, I need to let Chief know what’s going on.”

“Don’t worry, I already filled him in on where you went.” Severide told Herrmann and he nodded his head in thanks.

As he headed to Boden’s office, Connie stopped him in his tracks. “Chief is waiting for you so go right in.”

Herrmann nodded his head once again and entered his office. “I’m sorry, Chief. I would have told you where I was going but thought nothing was wrong.”

Chief Boden shrugged his shoulders to let him know it was okay. “What happened?”

After Herrmann told him the story, there was a knock on the door. Voight entered the office and shook their hands. “One of these days, I wish we could talk under better situations.” Voight told him.

“Hopefully.” Boden took a deep breath. “Do you have any word about Brett yet?”

Voight shook his head. “No. But don’t worry, I have my best men on her.”

“Except Antonio.” Herrmann pointed out. Since Antonio wasn’t a part of the intelligence team anymore, he wouldn’t have any jurisdiction over this.

“Yeah, well, considering the relationship between Brett and Antonio, maybe that’s a good thing.” Voight pointed out.

“So, you don’t want us to tell him?” Boden questioned.

“If he finds out, then tell him. But unfortunately, this isn’t his job anymore. Until we bring in this suspect, then he’ll know.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Herrmann said. “Once Antonio finds out we kept this from him, don’t you think he’s going to be upset?” He asked.

“Look, I’ll handle that. I’m not keeping this from him, but my priority right now is finding Brett. Which reminds me, is there anyway the CFD can tack the ambulance?” He asked.

“Yes. Even though Brett doesn’t have her radio, there is a tracking inside the ambulance that no one would know but the paramedics and of course us.” Boden couldn’t believe he almost forgot about that.

“That’s a good start. I’m hoping they didn’t get far.” Voight shook hands with them both. “I’ll keep you updated.” He promised as he walked out of the office.

Once Voight left the office, Herrmann turned back to Boden. “I still feel like not telling Antonio will backfire on us.”

“That isn’t our call, Herrmann.” Boden gave him a stern glare. “I better not find out you called Antonio. I don’t need an angry Dawson yelling at me.”

“You know that is bound to happen.” He pointed out.

“At least when that happens Brett will be fine.”

----

Sylvie thought they weren’t going to be driving for a while, but turns out, 3 hours later and she was still driving. “All we’re doing is driving in circles.” She pointed out.

“Shut up. I’m just waiting for someone to call me back to let me know where I can lay low.”

This ride wouldn’t have been so bad if she didn’t have a gun pointed at her. It was crazy how many times a gun was pointed at her in Chicago. Back in Indiana, this never happened to her.

Sylvie wanted to say more, but decided against it. It wasn’t the smartest idea to argue with a guy that had a gun pointed at her.

“Focus on the road and drive!” The man barked at her.

“You know what?” Sylvie had about enough. This guy has been screaming orders at her since he took her hostage and she was quite fed up with it. Being killed by him didn’t seem so bad right now, at least she didn’t have to deal with this crap any longer. She pulled the ambulance over to the side.

“What the hell are you doing?” He yelled. “Do you want me to shoot you!?”

“Do it!” Sylvie screamed. “I am a paramedic, I save lives every day. I see things that you wouldn’t imagine. I’m not afraid of dying, so do it! Do it or let me go!” Sylvie knew she was playing a dangerous game but she was tired of being this victim.

Suddenly, cop cars were flying from every which way. Sylvie wasn’t sure what to do, but knowing to stay put was the best option right now.

“How did they find us?” The guy said angrily. “And here I was about to let you go.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes, he wasn’t planning on letting her go but of course he would say that. “How could I let them know where we were? I don’t have my cell phone on me!” She pointed out.

She was angry and frustrated. This is something that should have happened the first month she was in Chicago, but she has been here for years. She wasn’t the same naïve person she was before, and maybe that’s why she didn’t fight with him on this. But hell, if anything now, she was a fighter.

However, before she could say or do anything, she heard a familiar voice on the bullhorn. “Let Brett go!” She heard Voight’s voice and although she should have been relieved she was safe, she was still stuck. “We can make a deal with you if you let her go.”

The guy just simply laughed. “Once I let you go, they’re going to shoot me.”

“Then don’t let me go.” Sylvie said in a flat voice. “Or at least keep me in front of you that way they can’t shoot you. It’d be too dangerous to shoot in case they shoot me. Listen, I know Voight, as long as you let me go, he keeps true to his word.”

She could see that the guy was thinking and felt like she could get him to let her go.

“I promise that I will make sure they understand that you didn’t hurt me, that you never intended to hurt me.” Maybe that was a lie, since he threatened her a few times, but the fact was he never hurt her. “Just let me go.”

After a few seconds, he nodded his head slowly. “Okay. Let’s just end this. I’m tired of running.” He confessed and Sylvie nodded her head.

As Sylvie climbed out of the ambulance, she raised her hands up. “Don’t shoot!” She yelled. “He’s surrendering himself.”

But Sylvie’s eyes widened when the guy came behind her and pointed the gun behind her back. She was surprised since this wasn’t the plan.

“I’m so sorry. But I have nothing else to live for.” Before Sylvie could say something to Voight, the guy shot her in the back twice.

As soon as the guy shot Sylvie, Jay shot him.

Erin ran over to Sylvie as she fell on the ground. “Brett?” She called out. “Hold on to me, damnit!” As she radio for the ambulance, she glanced over at Voight. They should have run over as soon as Sylvie stepped out of the ambulance.

As Erin waited for the ambulance to arrive, she took off her jacket and applied pressure on Sylvie’s gunshot wound. It didn’t even matter to her that she was getting blood on her favorite jacket, all she was worried about was making sure Sylvie stayed alive.

Luckily, Erin only waited a few minutes for help to arrive on scene. As the paramedics ran out of the truck and went to the back to grab the equipment, Erin pleaded with Sylvie. “Please stay with me. I don’t need 51 angry with us, or oh my god, Antonio.” She forgot about her former coworker and friend, he was going to murder them.

Erin always thought her sassy attitude would be the cause of death, but no, it was her friend.

Once the paramedics rushed over to Erin’s side, she stood up as they started working on Sylvie. “Her pulse is weak, but hurry up, let’s get her bandaged up and place her on the backboard.” The paramedic said in a hushed tone.

A few minutes later, which felt like an eternity to Erin, they had Sylvie secured on the backboard and placed her on the stretcher. As they placed Sylvie in the ambulance, Erin walked behind them. She glanced over at Jay. “I’m going with her. She shouldn’t be alone.”

He nodded his head as Erin got inside and he glanced over at Voight. They were happy this was over, but would be even more happier if Sylvie wasn’t fighting for her life.

----------------------

Gabby and Matt walked in the firehouse after dealing with a personal matter of theirs. Gabby hated asking Chief to come in late, even a few hours, but it was needed. She felt more guilty leaving Sylvie with someone else for a few hours.

As Gabby walked inside the firehouse, she noticed their glum expressions on their face. “Hey, bad call?” She questioned, she immediately thought they came back from a bad call.

“No, Dawson.” Cruz spoke up. “Um---Brett is missing.”

“Missing? What do you mean, missing?” Matt asked as he placed a hand on his wife’s shoulders.

“She went on a call---and something happened there and the guy took her and is now holding her hostage. Voight is tracking down the ambulance but no word yet.” Herrmann explained since he knew better than anyone, besides Boden.

“Let me call Antonio.” She said, knowing Antonio would find her.

“No!” Herrmann shouted, making everyone around him jumped. “Voight doesn’t want Antonio to know. It’s a conflict and somewhere he shouldn’t be since it isn’t his jurisdiction.”

“Herrmann.” Gabby said, shaking her head. “You know Antonio is the best at his job. He’ll find Brett and keep her safe.”

“We know that, but Voight doesn’t want him to. Look, I was against it just like you are, but this isn’t up to us. Antonio will know when he’s ready.”

“I don’t care! Brett wouldn’t be in this mess if I just came to work like I was supposed to.” She said, clearly agitated.

Before anyone could respond to that, Boden walked out of his office and into the dining area. “Brett was found.” He began, taking a second pause so people could process that news. “However, she was shot and is now being transported to Chicago Med.”

“Let’s go!” Herrmann announced as he and everyone else stood up, ready to support Sylvie.

“Of course we can go. But remember, we’re still on duty so any calls we get, we have to respond to it.” Boden informed his men and they all nodded their heads. They knew the drill, but right now, they were free to go and nothing would keep them away from Sylvie.

As everyone rushed to the trucks, and geared up, Gabby stood there frozen.

“Hey, this isn’t on you.” Matt said, trying to comfort his wife.

“Sylvie wouldn’t have been alone out there if it wasn’t for me. I’m her partner, I’m supposed to have her back. She always has my back.”

“Gabby, you didn’t know she would be alone and unless you are psychic, how could you know she would get injured?” He questioned.

“I know. Antonio is going to kill me.” She sighed. “His mind is still a mess from the breakup, but knowing this, it’s going to set him off.”

“He can’t blame you. Let’s go. For all we know, she’s got a minor gun wound and is awake. Don’t freak out.” He reassured his wife and thankfully she nodded her head.

----

Antonio and Nagel were sitting bored at their desks. He was tempted to tell her that it was a slow day, but knew better than to jinx themselves.

“So, how was last night with the kids?” Laura asked.

“Good. You know, I think me and Eva is connecting again, but then it’s false hope.” He wasn’t about to admit that it was because Eva was getting on his back to call Sylvie.

“Teenagers can be a pain the ass.” She laughed. “She’ll come around. Give her time.”

He nodded his head and then he heard his phone start ringing. Noticing it was Chicago Med, he quickly answered the phone.

“Dawson.” He said into the phone.

“Antonio Dawson? This is a receptionist from Chicago Med.” Antonio was anxious, who the hell was injured at Med that they needed to call him? If Gabby was hurt, Matt would call him. The kids? Oh god, knowing Laura, she wouldn’t be around so they would need to call him. Relax, he told himself. “Sylvie Brett is a patient here and she listed you down as her emergency contact person and we need to ask you for permission to bring her in for surgery.”

Sylvie was hurt? How? What about Gabby? “How? How did she get hurt?” He asked, prompting Laura to raised her eyebrows at him.

“Unfortunately, I can’t discuss that over the phone. But it’s important that she has the surgery asap.” She informed Antonio.

“Uh, yeah. Of course, do whatever you have to make sure she’s okay.” After a few more seconds, he hung up the phone and placed his cell phone on the desk. He ran his hands over his face as Nagel looked at him worriedly but kept silent.

Of course, that wouldn’t last long. Not after that phone conversation. “Dawson, who is it?” She asked softly.

After focusing on his breathing and recomposing himself again, he removed his hands off his face. “Sylvie. Look, I’m sorry, but I need to go. I don’t know what happened but Gabby could have been in trouble---“

Nagel shook her head and she waved him off. “No, I got you covered. Go handle your business.”

Antonio stood up and grabbed his jacket behind his chair. As he was about to stand up and walked out, Stone walked inside the room. Please, no, he thought, he couldn’t deal with a case right now.

“Antonio?” He asked. “I came in here to tell you about Sylvie.”

“How did you find out?” He questioned in a puzzled tone. Other than Med calling him, no one else informed him of what was going on. So, why would anyone call Stone instead?

“Voight just called me.” Stone said. “It’s a long story on why he called me first but he wanted to give me the heads up.”

“Heads up about what?” Why the hell did he feel like he was the twilight zone? Nothing was making sense to him and he felt like he was being kept in the dark for some reason.

“Go to the hospital. I’m sure Voight is there and is waiting for you.”

Antonio wanted to ask more questions, but truthfully, he wanted to get to the hospital and find out what happened to Sylvie, and more importantly ask why he wasn’t notified.

He nodded his thanks and headed out of the room.

The whole ride to the hospital he was filled with worry. He knew Sylvie was a fighter and would be okay, he kept telling himself that anyway. He was angry that he wasn’t told about what happened, but maybe Voight found out when he did. That had to be it. It just had to be.

As he drove into Med’s parking lot, he parked his truck and he climbed out. His question was, where was the lunatic that did this to Sylvie? If anyone was smart, they would lock this guy up and make sure Antonio never found his name because right now, he was a dead man walking.

Who could want to hurt Sylvie? She was so innocent and pure and just wanted to help everyone she could. He shook the thoughts out of his mind. He needed to focus on what happened to get justice for Sylvie.

As he headed into the hospital, he made his way into the waiting room. He noticed 51 there, showing support for Sylvie, which was no surprise. They were always there for each other, so that was expected. But he was surprised to see half of the intelligence unit there. He wasn’t even sure they knew Sylvie, at least not well enough to want to show support.

Voight and Chief Boden were the only ones to stand up and walked over to him. As he looked further into the room, he didn’t notice Gabby. He wondered if she was okay, his stomach started to tighten up, thinking his baby sister was also injured.

“Gabby?” He asked as he shook Boden’s hand.

“Oh, she’s fine. She wasn’t with Sylvie.” He looked around the room and looked back at Antonio. “She went to get some air.” He explained.

He relaxed slightly, but knew he wouldn’t feel completely better until he found out about Sylvie. “What happened?” He asked.

As Chief talked about what he knew and then Voight finished for him, Antonio was pissed. Not so much at Chief, because it was Sylvie’s decision to ride alone so not much to do about that. But more that Voight kept this from him.

“Why did you decide that keeping this from me was the best decision?” He questioned as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“Listen, I couldn’t focus on your personal relationship with Brett. The fact is, you have no relations on any of our cases, Antonio. This wasn’t your job, it was ours.” He pointed out and maybe if Antonio was in the right state of mind, he would have agreed. But he wasn’t.

“Yet, you still didn’t let me know that Sylvie was in danger. I may not have relations to this case, but I was still blindsided!” He yelled. “I was always a great detective, Hank. Always. You know I would have left my emotions at bay when looking for Sylvie. And I would have made sure that guy didn’t have a chance to shoot her! Once she came out of the ambulance, you should have grabbed her away from him.”

“Just like you’re keeping your emotions at bay now? I made the right decision on the case. I’m sorry Sylvie got hurt, I truly am. But attacking me isn’t going to help her.” He pointed out.

Antonio wanted to say more, he wanted to scream that if something happened to her, it was all on him, that he made the worst decision. But he noticed Dr. Rhodes heading into the waiting room.

“Sylvie’s surgery was a success. Everything went as expected. Now we are just waiting for her to wake up.”

“How long will that be?” Antonio asked.

“I don’t know. That is all up to her. Her body went through a traumatic ordeal so it could be a few hours, a few days, even a few weeks. But we’re hopeful that she will wake up.”

Antonio nodded his head. “Can I go see her?” He asked softly.

“Yes. But please only one at a time.” He ordered and then he headed out of the waiting room.

Knowing that Antonio needed to see her for himself, they let him go first. As he left the waiting room, Stella shook her head.

“Tell me that isn’t a guy still in love with a woman.” She smiled sadly.

-----

A few minutes later, Antonio stood outside of Sylvie’s room and he took a deep breath. He wasn’t even sure if Sylvie wanted him here. They broke up months ago, what right did he have to come here?

As he walked inside of her room, his eyes glanced over at her face, her peaceful face that showed no ounce of pain, but knew once she woke up, she’ll be immensely deal of pain. He sighed when his eyes drifted down to the tube in her mouth and he shook his head.

He knew his actions were proving that he still liked Sylvie, but that wasn’t it. It was just---hell, he wasn’t sure what it was actually. He wasn’t allowing himself to think about why he was acting the way he was, not yet.

As he moved over to her bed, he sat down on the chair beside her bed and lifted her hand in his. “I’m so sorry, Sylvie. I should have known, I should have never let this happen.” He sighed, knowing that unless he was psychic, he could have never known. Even if he did get a bad feeling in his stomach, he always chose to ignore it, simply because of his job, he was constantly feeling that way.

“I guess I should thank you. If I wasn’t on your emergency contact, I probably would have never known. Maybe eventually, but probably when you were in the clear. I know why Voight did what he did, although I could have found you, it could have ended worse. “

He paused as he stared at her face. A few seconds later, he raised her hand up to his lips and he pressed a soft kiss. Maybe not a good gesture for his ex-girlfriend, but he didn’t care.

He never broke up with Sylvie because of lack of love---or well lack of care. Quite the opposite. So maybe his reaction was a surprise to everyone, but not to him.

“Sylvie, I know you went through a traumatic experience, and if you need to rest for a few days, we all understand. But please, you need to fight for your life. You are amazing, quite possibly the most amazing woman I have ever met. You see the good in everybody, the world needs you----I need you. I know things have been stray between us, I know. But just knowing you’re happy and being the amazing person you are, it’s what is keeping me sane. If you decide to give up---I don’t know, my entire world will go completely dark.” He took a deep breath to control his emotions. “I’m just so sorry.”

And he was. He was sorry that no one trusted him enough to keep his temper at bay so that they could find her. He was sorry that he allowed so much distance between them that he didn’t even know she was working alone today. He was sorry that he broke up with her. But maybe he was even more sorry that he allowed himself to begin a relationship with her since his life was a mess. It was a mess then and it was still such a mess now. He was sorry for breaking her heart, she didn’t deserve the pain.

A few minutes later, he wiped the tears from his eyes and he stood up. He needed to get out of there. Just looking at Sylvie so fragile was killing him. He needed air before all of this suffocated him.

“I’ll check in on you later.” He promised his ex-girlfriend as he leaned down and kissed her head.

As he let go of her hand, he gazed at her face one more time and then he walked out of the room.

A few seconds later, he walked back in the waiting room area. This time he noticed that Gabby was back in the waiting room.

Before he could say anything, Gabby rushed over to him and hugged him tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” He could hear her words in his ear.

A few minutes, he pulled away and he looked at her. “Hey, this isn’t your fault.” He soothed her. “Go see her, Gabby. Maybe if she hears your voice, she’ll wake up.”

“I’m probably the last person she wants to hear something from.” She admitted.

“Hey, if anyone belongs in that category, it’s me. Besides, Sylvie would never blame you for this.” He took out his phone and he glanced at the time. “Listen, I have to go. But I’ll talk to you later?” He suggested.

“Sure.” She nodded her head slowly. “Please take care of yourself.”

He nodded his head as he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I will, sis.” He promised as he gave her one last glance and he walked away.

As he walked out of the hospital, he sent a quick text to Stone, letting him know that he needed the rest of the day off for a personal day.

Normally, Antonio needed to work to keep his mind busy whenever he was stressed out, but he knew his mind would be on Sylvie and that could be dangerous.

Once he was inside his truck, Stone text him back letting him know that he could take the day off for a personal day and the next day also. He felt guilty doing it, knowing Nagel needed his help, but at the same time, he wouldn’t be much help.

For the next few hours, he drove around Chicago, needing the time to think to himself. This wasn’t a wakeup call that he needed to be back with Sylvie. More like a reason why they should stay broken up.

Antonio was no good for her, and at this moment, she was no good for him. Even when he divorced from Laura, she never consumed his thoughts this badly. Maybe if she had gotten shot, maybe. But the fact was, he never took a personal day when it came to Laura, but with Sylvie, he knew he had to.

He sighed as he parked his truck outside of his apartment and he stepped out of the truck. As he closed his door, he inhaled a deep breath, letting the air calm him down.

He walked inside his apartment building and then he walked to the elevator. A few seconds later, he walked off and he headed for the door. He took out his keys and he opened the door.

As he stepped inside his apartment, he felt like the memories of Sylvie in his apartment were overpowering him. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even see straight, the memories were flashing in his mind. And maybe if they had sad memories, it would be okay, but no, of course not. The only bad memories he and Sylvie had were their breakup, but other than that, their relationship was perfect.

And that angered him.

Why? He wasn’t sure. Maybe because if their relationship was just a fling, his feelings wouldn’t have been strong right now. Maybe because if he didn’t take that damn job as Chief States Investigator, he would have been in the loop, he could have saved her. Maybe because if he didn’t allow Laura to control his life so much, he could have had more memories with Sylvie.

As he kept thinking about Sylvie and all the mistakes he made concerning her, his angered just intensified.

For the past few months Antonio was like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode, and this sent him over the edge.

Antonio started shattering his living room. He tossed his bookcase on the floor, causing a big thump as all the books came crashing down on the ground. As he walked over and threw his couch on the side. He wasn’t trying to destroy his stuff, simply he was just trying to unleash the anger he had inside of him.

10 minutes later, he felt better. Maybe this wasn’t a great thing to do, since his living room was completely ravaged. And now once he calmed down, he would have to clean it up. But at least he got the anger out of him.

This just further proved that he needed to stay away from Sylvie. How can someone who felt so good for him, someone who was so pure and innocent and made him completely happy, also be so bad for him? He wasn’t sure, but hell, he never understood love before.

Damn it, he thought, as he ran his hands through his hair. There was the love word again. It was the second time tonight he thought about the Love word when thinking about Sylvie. He wasn’t in love with Sylvie, he couldn’t be. He gave up on the idea of loving someone a long time ago. His living room was proof on why love was no good for him.

Antonio glanced down at the picture frame on the ground, completely shattered in pieces. As he picked it up, he noticed that it was a picture of Laura and the kids. He shook his head as guilt filled him. Not because of Laura, but the kids. They were going through so much because of the mess Laura was doing and it wasn’t fair.

Shaking his head, he stood up as he walked into the kitchen. He placed the photo frame on the table and he looked around the kitchen. He should probably try to eat but he wasn’t in the mood. He walked over to his fridge as he took out a beer. Knowing that he needed something stronger, he put it back and he walked over to the counter. He picked up the bottle of whiskey as he twisted the cap.

He took a long swig as he headed out of the kitchen and walked into his bedroom. This was the last place he wanted to be, but since he trashed the living room, he was stuck. He kicked off his shoes as he sank down on the bed.

As he kept thinking about Sylvie, he kept downing the bottle. He wanted to feel numb and not think about Sylvie. Not think about all the times they made love in his bed, not think about all the happy times they shared in his bed.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Antonio muttered as he finally settled in a somber sleep.

---

Antonio woke up as he felt the sun shining on his face. He opened his eyes and he moved his hands up to his face. He rubbed his eyes as he thought back to last night.

He sighed as he looked down and noticed the bottle next to him. He picked it up and placed it on his nightstand.

As he glanced over, he spotted the picture frame on his nightstand. He picked it up and he smiled slightly at the picture.

It was a picture of him and Sylvie. They were so happy when they took this picture. He sighed as he placed the picture frame back on his nightstand. Maybe he should have put it away, but he wasn’t ready.

He stood up from the bed and he walked out of his bedroom. He walked in the living room and he sighed heavily at the mess he made.

It wasn’t the best decision at the time, he could admit that, but at least he started to feel better. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing.

Knowing that he needed to clean this mess, he walked over and started to pick up the broken glasses. At least the big pieces that he could pick up.

As he threw away the big pieces, he grabbed the dustpan and broom to pick up the smaller pieces, he heard a knock on the door.

He hoped it wasn’t Gabby, he loved his sister, but he was sure this wouldn’t go over well with her. He didn’t think this was what she meant by taking care of himself, although he felt better after destroying his living room. It also wasn’t healthy.

He walked over to the door and he opened it. He was surprised to see his mother on the other side. “Ma? What are you doing here?” He asked softly.

“I wanted to check on you.” She noticed the dustpan and broom in his hands. “Decided to straighten up?” She questioned and then saw the mess behind him. “Mi hijo, que pasó?”

“I was robbed?” He attempted to lie, knowing his mom was going to flip out, or worst, give him a lecture. Unfortunately, his lie came out more like a question than a statement.

She shook her head and walked inside his apartment. “So, a robber came into your place and just decided ‘hey, let’s trash it?’” She asked.

Damn mothers, they always know when their little boy is lying.

He sighed as he walked over and started gathering up the glass pieces with the broom into the dustpan. “I just---I had an accident, Ma. Please don’t read too much into this.”

“Is that why you’re avoiding Gabby?” She questioned. “She called me saying you weren’t returning her calls or texts from last night.”

“I wasn’t avoiding Gabby. I just needed time to myself.” He looked over at his mother. “Is she okay?”

“Yes.” She nodded her head. “How about you go make me a cup of coffee and I’ll finish cleaning up some of this mess?”

He shook his head. “No, Ma. This is my mess, not yours.” He stood up as he looked at her. “I’ll make you a cup of coffee, but please don’t clean up.”

She nodded her head. “Okay.” The last thing she wanted to do was upset him even more. “But how about I help you?” She asked, looking for a compromise. “I’ll clean up the small things and you can focus on the bigger things?” She suggested.

“Fine.” He smiled slightly as he headed into the kitchen.

10 minutes later, the coffee was done and he poured coffee in two mugs.

As he headed into the living room, he noticed that she cleaned up a good portion.

“I just need you to lift up the bookcase so I can place the stuff back inside.” She said as he handed her the cup of coffee.

“You worked fast.” He observed.

“I’m a mother whose husband worked a lot. I had to clean fast with raising two kids.”

He placed his cup of coffee down on the coffee table that she managed to pick up on her own. He lifted the bookcase and he watched as she started placing the books back where they belonged.

“Just ask me, Ma.” He could sense she wanted to give him his space but also had something on her mind.

“I just want to know why---why did you destroy your apartment?” She asked.

“Last night after I went to clear my mind from the hospital---from Sylvie, I just had so much anger boiling inside of me. Anger of the pain I caused Sylvie, anger over Laura, anger that people kept me out of the loop concerning Sylvie. I just needed a release and well----my apartment was my release.”

“I know it’s hard seeing the woman you love hurt and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She tried to comfort him but he shook his head.

“I don’t love Sylvie. I care about her immensely, sure, but I don’t love her.” He defended as he lifted up his couch and placed it back to the way it was.

“Antonio, you can bullshit everyone with the ‘I don’t love Sylvie’ but never your mother. Especially with the way your apartment looks.” She pointed out. “Have you ever reacted this way when a case upsets you this badly?” She questioned.

“No.” He admitted. “But I still don’t love Sylvie.”

“Mama knows best, Antonio.” She looked at him. “Come on, we can finish cleaning later. Let’s go sit and talk.”

He sighed, knowing whatever his mom wanted to talk about, she was going to drag it out of him.

He walked over to the couch and he sat down. He looked over at her as she sat down next to him.

“Are you happy?” She asked softly. “Before Sylvie got hurt, were you happy?”

“With my kids.”

“No, Antonio.” She shook her head. “You are a great father and it makes me so proud. But your kids, they can’t be the sole reason you’re happy. Not when you barely have them.”

“So, if you and Padre got divorced when me and Gabby were young, you would start dating again?” He asked, curious.

“Of course. If I found a guy that accepted you and Gabby are a huge part of my life and you kids would always be first, without a doubt. How can you expect your kids to be happy if you aren’t?” She questioned. “I guess the real question is, did Sylvie accept the kids?”

Antonio thought for a moment and a smile appeared on his face. He remembered the times when he had the kids and Sylvie would make dinner and for the first time in a while, he felt like he had the family aspect again. “She did. I think that’s why Laura got jealous.” He then thought about it. “So, are you saying if Padre started dating someone, you would be happy?”

“As long as that woman is making my kids feel comfortable when they visit their father, and isn’t abusing them, absolutely.”

“You know, Sylvie taught herself to play Chess for Diego. She still lost, but to know she did that for Diego, it was truly amazing.”

“I think I have been silent long enough, Antonio. I feel like you are old enough to make your own decisions, but it’s also my job as your mother to make sure you’re happy. And for a few months, you were. If Laura is the reason why you’re miserable and away from the woman you---care about. Screw her. All you guys have are two beautiful kids---but that’s it. She can’t dictate who you can and can’t date. Don’t give up on something---or well someone---that makes you happy because of Laura.”

Antonio sat there and he absorbed everything his mother told him. Maybe he should listen to her, but who was to say that Sylvie still wanted him? Sure, they did say when things settled down, but maybe he waited too long.

“By the way, Sylvie is awake.” Camilla told Antonio the news and his eyes widened. “Gabby was trying to get ahold of you this morning to tell you.”

“Well, I’m happy that she is. But that doesn’t change things.” The last thing Antonio wanted to do was rush over to the hospital and stress out Sylvie more.

“Antonio...” Camilla warned.

“Ma. I need some time to think. Besides, if I go over to the hospital and even tell Sylvie I regret what I did, she’s going to think I’m only feeling like this because she was shot. I can’t do that. It’ll push us even further away from each other.” He explained.

“You’re right.” She was silent for a few seconds. “So, you aren’t going to visit her at the hospital?”

“Not right now. I think right now, my mind is a mess, so is hers. She just got shot. I think she needs to focus on getting better. It’s the right thing to do.” He took a deep breath. “It is.”

-----

Although Camilla knew that Antonio was right, that Sylvie needed to rest and focus on getting better, she wanted to check on her.

She knocked gently on the door, and heard Sylvie tell her to come in.

Camilla walked inside the room. “Hey. I figured you would want some company and I brought some flowers.” She walked over to the table and placed them next to her. “They always cheer me up, so I thought maybe they’d cheer you up.”

Sylvie smiled softly as she tried to sit up. “Thank you---Camilla.” She almost slipped and called her Mrs. Dawson but luckily stopped herself. The first time she met her, she called her Mrs. Dawson and she told her to call her Camilla. It wasn’t in a mean way, but it was in a way that let her know that if she called her Mrs. Dawson again, she would yell at her.

She smiled at her. “No problem.” She sat down in the chair next to her bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I have been shot.” She laughed. “My back hurts but I’m okay.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t anything too serious.” Camilla said. “Truthfully, I don’t think my son or even daughter could handle that.” She admitted. She knew she shouldn’t have brought up Antonio but she was tired of sitting back and allowing these two stubborn individuals to stay away when the love was obviously there.

“You just missed Gabby. Kind of happy she left. I love her so much, but she needed to rest.”

“She means well, though.”

“I know.” Sylvie chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about Antonio. “How is he doing? I heard he didn’t take any of this too well.”

“I think that’s an understatement.” She was contemplating on telling Sylvie on what she walked into, but figured she needed to know that Antonio still cared about her. “I went to check on him this morning, and his apartment was completely trashed.”

Sylvie’s eyes widened. “I didn’t realize he was that bad.”

Truth be told, she couldn’t. Maybe the first week, it helped him knowing he was miserable just like she was. And maybe if she was honest with herself, even when a month passed by, she was happy, but she still missed him. But she didn’t think he was thinking of her anymore.

“I don’t even think he realized he was that bad, but seeing you hurt sent him over the edge. You know Antonio, if he can’t protect the people he cares about, it kills him.”

She nodded her head. “I thought he would stop by and visit me sooner knowing I was awake.” She admitted. “I guess I just thought he didn’t care.”

“No, he cares. I think he feels like he’s doing a favor by keeping his distance.”

As she looked at the expression on Sylvie’s face, she knew that she loved Antonio as much as he loved her. Why were they making this more complicated than it had to be?

“Anyway.” Camilla didn’t want to make Sylvie uncomfortable. “I hear you’re going to go home in a few days, you must be happy.”

She nodded her head. “I’m glad I woke up the next day so it wasn’t too damaging. And I’m glad that when I got shot in the back, it didn’t hurt my spine or I would be paralyzed.”

“I’m glad too.” She was always fond of Sylvie, simply because she was innocent and sweet, but then again, she would be fond of any woman who made her son happy.

“Gabby wants me to stay with her, but I think I’ll feel better going back to my own apartment.”

“But that just means Gabby will be stopping by every chance she gets to check on you.” She said, causing both her and Sylvie to laugh.

-----

It was a few days later and Sylvie was home from the hospital. Gabby wanted him to visit Sylvie but there was something he had to do first. Something that he needed to do to get his mind to a clear place.

He truly felt like since he met Sylvie---or well maybe since his crush on Sylvie, his mind was all sorts of messed up. And maybe if he was truthful, that was a good thing. That meant his mind knew Sylvie was perfect for him.

He drove his truck over to Laura’s apartment and he stopped his truck. He sort of ambushed his mother to take the kids, but knew it was for a good reason. The kids would be a distraction right now and he needed to talk to Laura.

This wasn’t going to be pretty, but it was time to do it.

After he parked his truck, he unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out of the truck. He walked inside Laura’s building and headed for her door. As he knocked gently, he took a deep breath.

He could tell Laura was surprised to see him when she opened the door. “You know your mother has the kids.”

He nodded his head. He held up a folder in his hands. “I know. I came for this.”

She looked at him, puzzled but she nodded her head. “Come in.”

Antonio walked inside her apartment and closed her door.

“I’m not here to fight with you, I’m not here to place any blame about the divorce like we always seem to do. I chose my job over you, you took the kids, we got a divorce. That’s all in the past. You moved on, and I’m trying hard to do the same. But see, I can’t seem to do that when you think you can use the kids as leverage.” She tried to interrupt him but he held up a finger to silence her. “I talked to a lawyer about how I can get custody without you interfering. I’m not asking for full custody, I would never take the kids away from you. But enough is enough, Laura. They are my kids just as much as they are yours. I am a good father and I deserve to see them when I’m supposed, regardless who is in my life.”

“I’ll fight with you on this.” She sneered at him.

“On what grounds?” He questioned. “I never hurt them, I never used them against you. Can you say the same?”

“I—I— “She tried to deny it but she knew, just like he did, she couldn’t.

“I’ll fight dirty for my kids, Laura. I’ll make it where you will never see them. Don’t mess with me anymore. We’re divorced, but we don’t have to hurt our kids. You aren’t just hurting me, you’re hurting them.”

“You got Diego kidnapped.” She tried to use that against him, causing him to laugh.

“And? I got him back unharmed.” He sighed as he opened the folder. “In here is everything about the custody arrangement. I get them every weekend and I played around with the holidays, but I’m willing to change holidays.”

“Why are you doing this? Is this because she’s making you.”

“No. I’m doing this because I have a right to see my kids. And this way if you keep my kids from me, you will be arrested. I’m not playing this game anymore. You no longer have a hold on me. You are only the mother of my children.”

“That’s it?”

He walked closer to her and he sighed. “You know what I mean, Laura. You moved on, why shouldn’t I?”

“I guess a part of me thought eventually we would get back together. That you would leave your job one day and we can be a family again.”

“That’s why we can never be a family again. You are always making me choose between my job and my family, it’s not fair. We’re just not meant to be. Maybe when we got married, we were meant to be. But as the years passed by, we drifted apart. It’s not anyone’s fault, it’s life, it happens. But we need to stop being angry with each other and let the other person go.”

Laura nodded her head as tears fell from her eyes. “I know this sounds stupid since I signed the divorce papers two years ago, but it’s so hard letting you go. I mean, we built a life together, we brought two kids into our marriage. You were truly my best friend.”

“As you were mine. But all we’re doing is hurting each other, hurting the kids. I know it’s hard letting go. I always thought one day, our lives were in sync again and we would become a family again, but we need to let that fantasy go.” Antonio handed her the papers. “I need your signature on these papers.”

Laura nodded her head and she picked up a pen on the table. After she signed her name, she glanced at him. “You love her, don’t you?” She asked.

“I do.” Although he didn’t admit that to his mother a few days prior, he realized he did.

“I’m sorry if I was the reason you guys broke up in the first place. I guess I was just jealous that the kids loved her.” Ah, now the truth comes out.

“It wasn’t your fault, maybe at first it was. But I needed to clear my mind.” He admitted and he placed his hand on her shoulder. “Laura, no one can ever replace you with the kids. They love you. You’re their mother.”

“I know, but I can’t stop thinking it.”

“Thank you for not fighting with me on this. I know it’s hard.” He said as he placed the papers back in the folder.

“It’s particularly hard saying goodbye.” She confessed.

“I know.” He agreed. “I’ll see you later and tell you how this goes, okay?”

She nodded her head as Antonio walked out of her apartment. He had other important things he had to do right now.

-----

An hour later, Antonio stood outside of Sylvie’s apartment with flowers in his hand. He felt guilty that he didn’t visit her in the hospital but he needed to think and being near her was just going to confuse things more.

He knocked on the door and he smiled softly as he waited for her to answer. He felt 100x better than he did in a while since he felt like weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Laura knew where he stood and knew she couldn’t keep the kids from him again. If he and Sylvie were going to start over, he needed to resolve that.

“Hey.” Sylvie said in a surprise tone when she answered the door. “I didn’t expect to see you, I thought you were avoiding me.”

He shook his head as he handed her the flowers. “No, I was---handling some things.”

She smiled as she took the flowers from his hands. “Thank you, they’re beautiful. Come in.”

He entered her apartment and he closed the door behind him. “How are you feeling?”

She walked over to the couch and sat down. She shrugged her shoulders. “Better than what I was feeling when I first woke up. But I’m still sore.”

He nodded his head. “I’m sorry.” He said as he sat down next to her. “I should have known you were in danger, or at least---He stopped talking when she placed her hand on his arm.

“Antonio, no one told you, so how could you have known? I’m glad they didn’t tell you.” She took a deep breath to explain what she meant. “I know you, if anyone told you I was in trouble, you would have come despite Stone telling you no. You could have put your job on the line for me and that is something I would never be okay with.”

“I know, but, maybe if I knew, you wouldn’t have gotten shot.”

“Maybe. But you are also talking about the what-ifs.”

“Can I ask you something? Why did you keep me on your emergency contact list?” He asked. “You could have put Gabby down after we broke up.”

“I know. I guess I have just been busy that I didn’t get around to do it. Besides, I always thought if I would have gotten hurt, it would have been with Gabby, so I needed someone that wasn’t my partner. And although I could have put my parents down, they are so far away that I felt like they needed someone to make decisions, it was best to get someone who lived near me.” She explained.

“That makes sense.” He nodded his head.

“Are you okay?” She asked. “Your mom visited me and told me you weren’t handling this so well.”

“I’m okay.” He sighed. “I mean, after I destroyed my apartment, I felt better.”

She shook her head. “Why would you do that?”

“I guess because I had so much anger inside of me. Anger over Laura, anger over our breakup, just everything. It might have been stupid, but it made me feel better.”

“Kind of destructive, don’t you think?”

“Maybe so, but maybe it was what I needed.” He admitted.

Antonio glanced over at her and he took a deep breath. “So, I was thinking of our breakup a lot over the last few days. And please don’t think it’s because you were shot. I mean, maybe it got me thinking, but if I’m honest with myself, the breakup should have never happened. It’s why I didn’t come to the hospital, I needed to make sure my mind was clear when I came here. I also talked to a lawyer about getting custody of the kids.”

Sylvie’s eyes widened at his confession. “What?” She never thought Antonio would go down that road.

“Not full custody. Just so when Laura isn’t in one of her moods, she won’t take it out on the kids and myself when I’m supposed to get them.”

She nodded her head. “How did she take that?”

“Not well, of course. But I told her I was going to fight dirty for my kids. Truthfully, I should have done this a while ago.” He admitted. “But she finally realized it was a losing battle.”

“You are a great father and anyone can see that.”

“I also had an ulterior motive for doing this.”

“And that is?” She asked, although she knew the answer.

“I miss you, Sylvie. I miss us. And I know Laura isn’t the reason why we broke up, but she is a part of that reason.” He admitted. “Besides, I feel like we needed this time apart. My mind was a mess, not just my life, my mind. It was like I was happy with you, but I was also waiting for something bad to happen. Especially when it came to Laura.”

Sylvie looked over at the flowers. “I should put this in a vase.” She stood up carefully as she walked in the kitchen. She was scared, she was scared that Antonio only thought he wanted to be back with her because she was shot.

“Sylvie.” Antonio stood up and followed her. “I guess that wasn’t the reaction I was hoping to get.”

“Look Antonio, I miss you too. I do. But I can’t keep getting shot so you know how much you care about me, I can’t. That type of relationship I can’t be in. I’ll be too scared that any time you’ll leave me.”

“I know I put you through a lot. But that isn’t going to happen again.”

“How can I be sure? How can I be safe and secure in our relationship?”

“Because I love you Sylvie.” He blurted out. “And I can keep on denying it all I want, but it’s the truth.”

“I’m scared.” She admitted in a whispered.

“I am too.” He walked over to her and he grabbed her hands. “I mean, the last woman I fell in love with left me. But baby, our love is worth fighting for. I know I haven’t done much fighting in the last few months, but please forgive me.”

“Hey, don’t put all the blame on you. I shouldn’t have let you walk away from me.” She looked down at their joining hands. “We both made mistakes.”

“I’m done making mistakes when it comes to our relationship. All I want to do is love you and cherish you for as long as you want me.”

There were tears streaming down her face, she wasn’t sure if it was happy or scared tears. “Maybe this time we can take our time---and also not let anyone else come in between our relationship?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He agreed. “Wait, does that mean?” His eyes sparkled with hope.

“Yes. Like you said, our love is worth fighting for.”

He smiled softly and he leaned forward and kissed her softly.

#Brettonio #Antonio Dawson #Sylvie Brett #my fanfic

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tiaraofsapphires · 7 years

Note

Rebelcaptain in a JessicaJones!AU ?

I don’t watch Jessica Jones but a Superhero AU is close enough, right? Thanks for the prompt bby

“Please tell me you have a different plan!” Jyn shouted fromwhere she was hunched behind a storage crate.

Bullets and fire sailed over their heads.

This bust went south quickly. The intel had been correct, ofcourse. The illegal shipment of arms and the Imperial thugs were right wherethey were supposed to be, when they were supposed to be.

Only, the reported numbers had doubled and they had beenwarned about the Resistance. They brought their muscle, what they could spareat least.

Hence, the shooting and the hiding.

“Cassian!”

“I’m working on it,” Cassian muttered.

Frost sparkled and danced around his fingertips as helistened to Bodhi shout orders at what was supposed to be Jyn and Cassian’sbackup and to Kaytoo reporting what he was picking up over the radio channels.

They didn’t have a lot of time and their options werelimited.

While technicallythey were allowed to kill, it wasn’t smiled about by the Resistance or themedia. They were already getting enough flak in connection with Saw and hismerry band of vigilantes, no matter how many times the Resistance denouncedtheir actions.

The presence of gifted people, touched by what scientistscalled the Force, was tolerated for the most part. There were people, like theso-called Empire, who liked using their abilities to cause trouble.

That’s where the Resistance came in, with a tight leash heldby the government.

Avoid excessive property damage. Avoid killing anyone.

Cassian had to be careful. He knew from experience how easilya person could die from getting struck in the chest by a sub-zero blast ofenergy.

Jyn had to be careful as well, as she was still a bit tooused to killing when she was with Saw.

God knew how many times Cassian listened to her stories, theguilt and the pain that laced every word.

She came to the Resistance after she almost died saving ayoung girl caught in the crossfire between the Imperials and Saw’s gang. Ittook Cassian a long time to get the story out of her, even longer to kiss everysingle one of her scars.

While Cassian’s abilities killed slow, like a disease, herswere quick and merciless, like the wrath of a god.

Scraps of wood scattered over their heads, pulling Cassianout of his reverie.

Right. Imperials. Outnumbered. Secure backup. Where the fuckwere Baze and Chirrut?

He looked to Jyn.

Her sea-green eyes were now an unnaturally bright blue andthe air around her smelled like the moments before a storm opened the heavens.

“Think they’ll run out of bullets?” Cassian asked, forcingsomething like levity into his voice.

Jyn glared at her and if he didn’t know she loved him, he would’vebeen terrified that she was going to shock the shit out of him.

“We’re practically sitting in an armory, Cassian! We shoulddo something before they find something with a little more punch than AK-47s.”

She lunged forward so they were huddled behind the samecrate.

“I’ll distract them. The cavalry will arrive soon.”

Cassian blinked, his opinion of that plan leaving his mouthunchecked.

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“I agree,” Kaytoo chirped in their earpieces.

Jyn rolled her eyes, mouth set in a line.

Fighting Imperials was always personal for her, for both ofthem. It wasn’t the same as taking down a mercenary or some shmuck with a godcomplex.

They lost too many people, buried too many people.

“Got any better ideas?” Jyn asked.

He didn’t. They could sit and wait, mount a suicidal rush,or go with Jyn’s plan.

His answer must’ve been obvious on his face because her eyesseemed to sparkle for a moment.

Jyn kissed him, short and biting and full of promise. Hislips were tingling as she pulled away and dammit he shouldn’t be turned on inthe middle of a firefight.

“Stay. Provide cover fire—er, ice—for me.”

Cassian nodded. He couldn’t really say anything more. Thatkiss should’ve said everything. ‘I love you’, ‘be safe’, ‘come back alive’,‘don’t be an idiot’.

Whether or not Jyn was going to heed the last one wouldremain to be seen.

He watched as she took in a fortifying breath and dove outfrom behind her hiding spot. The air crackled and popped and the overheadlights exploded.

There was a distant yelp of pain, signaling that Jyn hadlanded her mark. Cassian allowed himself a small smile.

Yeah, that was his girlfriend.

Where he was a blizzard, she was a lightning storm.

The Empire didn’t stand a chance.

Hooooooly shit I may or may not run with this AU at a later time...whatcha think?

Prompts are open! Both regular and kiss meme just drop me an ask!

#athenalesage #rebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #jyn erso #cassian andor #cassian x jyn #ToSdrabbles #my fic #my fics

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captainkappa · 7 years

Text

Fanfic:: The Doctor is Out

More of @hexmaniacinien ‘s mob au!! Taking place a couple month after “Tough Business to get Into,” things get a bit gayer!

1920s/mob au. Ashien. Gun violence.

Thank you @lilmagg for betaing it!

Read it here on AO3

She wasn’t supposed to get hurt. That’s not her job. Her job is to fix people. She shouldn’t be the one in the bed.

Inien stayed silent, staring at Ashe’s chest, slowly rising up and down. There was barely room in the room for her, large clunky machines keeping her alive filled most of the room, with even more beds and machines taking up the rest. It wasn’t normally where Inien’s employees went if they got caught in the crossfire, but this was different.

This was Ashe.

-=-

As if Ashe getting shot wasn’t worse enough, it was a nobody. Not Xin, Gold, Rust, Lily, no one of fucking importance. It had been a normal night at the bar, a busy night, but a normal night. Colvin, recently come from Ukraine, was manning the bar. Sitting on bar stools were Markus, Gregor, and Kyr, the latter two men hanging on to every word as Markus wove a story he swore was true about life in Italy. Firi was singing with the band, shimmying and dancing and generally having a good time. Inien was leaned against the far wall across from the bar, where she usually would be looking over her domain, but tonight Ashe had caught her attention (but if she was being honest, that had been happening far more frequently), and they were talking, although Inien couldn’t remember what about.

She couldn’t remember much details before several bar patrons stood up, brandishing guns.

Everything became a flurry of movement. Firi and the band ran off-stage to cover, Markus and Kyr jumping behind the bar, Gregor grabbing his weapon, Zalvetta coming out from who knows where, knives in hand.

Inien made eye contact with the woman who looked to be the leader. The woman grinned, and everything went slow.

At a signal, too quick for Inien to notice, the goons lit up the room, seeming leaving Inien and Ashe out of the firefight

Gregor and Zalvetta threw themselves into the fight with Colvin vaulting over the bar.

Markus and Kyr peeking out behind the bar to provide covering fire with guns they had hidden underneath.

More people came to help upon hearing the guns, but Inien only had eyes on the woman, who had her gun raised at them.

Inien reached for hers in her bag.

A shot rang out, louder than the others.

Inien braced herself for the pain, but felt only warm hands shoving her away.

Another shot rang out, and another, and still, Inien was unharmed. The world sped up as she collided with the floor, landing on her hip hard. She blinked, confused there was no sharp, agonizing pain of a bullet on her chest.

She looked up and her blood ran cold.

Ashe stood a little off to the side of where Inien had landed, teeth gritted against the three bullets in her torso.

Inien saw red.

She grabbed her gun and barely had time to aim before her finger squeezed the trigger. A bullet went wide, clipping a goon in the shoulder. Another hit the wall behind the woman. Two finally hit the woman in the thighs, making her buckle.

She screamed obscenities as her medic fell to her knees. Inien aimed for the bitch’s head, but she whistled and her men rounded up and dragged her out, leaving the bar a mess. While the others paused to take in the carnage, Inien scrambled to Ashe’s side.

“Ashe, what the fuck!?”

A small smirk graced Ashe’s face. “Th-That’s… the l-last time… I save you I-I-I-” She coughed splattering blood in Inien’s face. “I-I-f tha’s the thanks I get.”

Then her eyes closed and for once, Inien was left speechless. Thog appeared out of nowhere – she hadn’t even see him come in during the fight. He placed his fingers on Ashe’s neck and Inien felt her heart lurch in her chest.

“She’s alive, but we’re gonna need to pay for a hospital.”

Despite her gut instinct telling her to never let go, to hold onto Ashe, she handed her to Thog.

A calm briefly filled her mind as she did what she did best; ordered people around.

“You and Gregor get in a cab and take her there.” She reached in her purse and pulled out what money she had. “This should keep them from asking questions for now. Then, you are going to find out who the fuck that was!”

He nodded and called over Gregor. Taking the money, the two gently brought the hurt medic out to the street. Inien turned back to everyone else, hands now balled into fists.

“Everyone else, I want this place spotless. We are not losing business to some two-bit gang!”

No one argued with her.

-=-

Inien was there when the doctor walked in again. She didn’t pay much attention to him. Average height, average build, slicked back blond hair, a forgettable face to most.

“Ms. Kelly O’Connell was fine during the… surgery.” He clearly had never been paid off before; he was doing terribly. “There were two in her stomach and one in her chest, but she will recover fine. The bullets are out, not all she really needs is rest.”

“When will she wake up?” she asked flatly.

The doctor faltered. “We- We’re not sure, Miss-?”

“O’Connell.” That was never an alias she’d taken on. “I’m her cousin,” she added.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry, Miss. I- I’ll leave you two alone.”

The door closed behind him. Inien mentally calculated how much more she’d need to pay off the guy.

Still, it was worth it.

Now if only she could stop replaying the last 24 hours…

-=-

As the dust settled in the bar, everyone started moving. There was the sound of a car door slamming as Thog and Gregor had the cab driver get them to the hospital. Everyone else made themselves busy, righting tables and chairs, determining if it was worthy or repair or not. No one questioned Inien as she ran to the safe in the back of the bar, cracked it open, and grabbed enough money to get Ashe to a hospital and extra to pay the doctors not to ask why this woman had three bullets in her torso.

A voice behind her cut her out of her reverie. “Inien-”

The bills in her hands crumbled. They needed to move, to see how Ashe was doing, if she had bled out in the cab, if the hospital would take her with a lie and cash. “Markus, don’t-!”

She was cut off by Markus hugging her. Her voice caught in her throat.

“Inien, we’re all worried for Ashe, but we need you. Ashe needs you.”

The implication in that made her look up. She got a wink and against all better judgement, she felt a faint blush color her cheeks. It was disgusting.

“When did you-?”

“Inien,” Markus said, more grandly. “I’m Markus Velafi. It’s my job to know stuff, you just happen to make it easier when it comes to Ashe.”

Inien made a mental note not to fuck with Markus when it came to secrets.

“As I was saying, Ashe needs you. So, take a deep breath, make sure the bills don’t look fishy, and let’s get to the hospital.”

Inien swallowed her pride and took a breath before nodding. “Okay, let’s go.”

He smiled before helping her get the money in the bag.

“Oh wait!”

Inien stopped as Markus approached her, handkerchief in hand.

“You have a bit-” He wiped off some of the blood off of her face like a mother would a child. “There you go. Now let’s go.”

-=-

“You cannot sleep here. Only the injured can sleep here.”

This was a new doctor, someone Inien could read like a book, the words, “You don’t have enough money to pay us to stay overnight,” jumping out at her. His eyes said “I know how these bribes work, so don’t even try me.” The other doctor clearly asked for assistance in getting her out of the room.

Inien stood up and suddenly she felt the weight of the day press on her shoulders, the sudden burst of tiredness almost making her stagger, but she didn’t. With the last bit of dignity she felt, she smoothed out her dress and walked out of the room, without so much as a backward look at Ashe, still slowly breathing, still looking so off in the bed. As she left, she slipped a dollar bill in the doctor’s hand, who gave a slight nod before going into the room to check on Ashe.

Markus, Gregor, and Thog were all leaned against the wall, waiting. No one spoke as they exited the hospital, the only sound being Thog’s whistle as he hailed a cab. They all piled in and gave an address a block away from the bar.

Sometime along the ride, Markus leaned over and whispered to over to her, “Are you alright?”

She focused on the city out the window. “Just thinking.”

-=-

Inien’s bar was already in the basement of a building, but the basement of the basement was nasty

“So, I’ve never heard you talk about family.”

Ashe gave a half-glare over to where Inien sat. “I never thought this was the place... or the time.” She tapped the man strapped to the table.

“Nonsense, I want to know all of my employees. And beside,” She grinned and gestured to the basement area they currently were in. “now is as good a time as ever. So, is the rest of your family in America? Mom? Dad? Husband?”

That got a laugh out of Ashe as she continued working on the trembling man in front of her on the table. “No, no husband. My mom died during childbirth, and my dad got sick.”

Inien raised an eyebrow at that. “Sick? Were you out of the country during that?”

Ashe paused. “No.”

Another eyebrow raised. “But you were learning, weren’t you? Couldn’t you have fixed him up?”

“Well, I would’ve been able to save him if I had a degree, right?” She gave a rather forceful stab into the man’s arm, causing him to howl.

Inien wouldn’t admit it, but her heart sped up at that. She let out a low whistle. “You sure are a firecracker.”

Ashe looked up from her work. “You have strange phrases here.”

“And you harps drink too much.”

“You Americans can’t hold your alcohol.”

-=-

There was a lot of work to be done on the bar and in finding the idiots who thought it was a good idea to shoot up the place, but Inien always managed to find time to visit the hospital and just sit by Ashe. It would take a bit to recover financially from the destruction and the medical costs, but it was worth it.

Anything was worth Ashe waking up.

And it was on an unassuming day later that week, as Inien sat next to Ashe, that Ashe’s eyes fluttered opened followed by heavy coughing. Inien’s eyes widened as Ashe grumbled, looking around the room before finally settling on her.

“Inien-” She couldn’t get the rest of the words out as Inien wrapped her arms around Ashe’s midsection. She barely noticed the doctor’s walk into the room as

“You dumbass,” Inien said, words muffled in Ashe’s neck. She pressed a soft kiss to Ashe’s jawbone, hiding it from the doctor. Her arms wrapped around and squeezed hard.

Ashe let out a loud groan followed by a very rushed. “RibsRibsRibsRibsRibsRibs!”

“I’m not letting go,” Inien muttered into Ashe’s paper gown.

“Actually, you should,” the doctor said.

Without looking, Inien went digging in her purse before pulling out a five-dollar bill and held it out in the direction of the doctor’s voice. It disappeared from her hand.

“Ten minutes, then you have to leave so your… friend can get better.” His sentence was punctuated by the closing of the door.

Inien looked up at Ashe, looking paler than normal, but smiling and awake, and that’s all that mattered.

“What the fuck were you thinking, pushing me out of the way ?!” Inien exclaimed, sitting up.

Ashe sputtered. “I just wake up and that’s the hello I get? Not ‘Oh wow Ashe, I’m glad you didn’t die!’ or ‘Here Ashe, let me explain why I just kiss-’ ”

She was cut off by Inien’s lips on top of hers. Ashe threaded her fingers through Inien’s hair and Inien found herself thanking the lack of windows in the room.

They broke away too soon.

“Never again,” Inien whispered. But they both knew something like this would happen again. Hell, they could be in the same place next week. It came with the business.

Ashe leaned her forehead against hers. “Never.”

-=-

A week later, all the headlines for all the newspapers in the area said the same thing:

Woman Kills Woman for Love of Other Woman.

The entire story was hyped up far too much, focusing on the murderous intent of all lesbians. There was an added portion in the opinions section about the threat of immigrant lesbians. Each paper left out how an entire mob had been taken overnight.

There was an amazing photo in the paper of two women, in the middle of the street, in the dead of night, kissing. Their faces were blocked by shadows and the blurriness of the film. The foreground showed the scores of bodies Inien and her gang had killed.

The article now proudly hangs in the bar, making Inien grin widely whenever someone points it out.

#thrilling intent #tifanart #ashien #ti mob au #ti mafia au #inien #aesling #kappa writes #my fanfic

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knightshade-ships · 6 years

Text

From Out of Nowhere

Prompt: Soulmate AU

Pairing(s): Don’t Fear the Reaper & We are in Harmony

Sorry this one’s a day late, guys! I’m doing my best to get today’s fic posted on time, too!

With everything else that seemed to be going down nowadays, the fact that soulmates had become a commonplace phenomena was almost mundane. It was always fun to hear the stories, though. Especially since the universe seemed to have so many different ways to bring people together.

“One of my eyes was the same color as hers!”

“Our chests glowed when we first got near each other.”

“We swapped bodies on our 18th birthdays. It was weird trying to deal with that.”

“Her name was tattooed on my thigh. And he and I had matching charms that fit together!”

Right, that was the other bit. Sometimes, people had more than one soulmate.

Alexis had already met one, and while she hadn’t expected him to be an Omnic, it was far from unpleasant. The first words he’d said to her were still printed on her arm. They had gone faint since they’d met, but if the light was just right, she could still read it.

“We are in harmony; proceed without fear, little one.”

He’d obviously thought she was a bit younger than she really was. Or maybe it was a height joke.

One mystery still eluded her, in the form of a timer that had appeared around her wrist, and couldn’t be removed no matter what she tried. It had appeared almost three days ago, and had been counting down ever since.

“What troubles you, my dear?” Zenyatta asked from beside her. They were currently on an airship, en route to some mission site or another. Alexis help out her wrist so the timer’s face was clearly visible. As of that moment, it read 57:49.

“They’re close,” she said quietly. “I hope they don’t get stuck in the crossfire we’re probably gonna draw...” Just as the concern started welling up, the Orb of Harmony gently floated overhead, shining with a calming glow.

“...Thanks, Zenny,” Alexis smiled. The Omnic nodded, repeating the words that had almost become an inside joke to them.

“Proceed without fear, little one.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course Talon had to show up. She wasn’t sure why, but it was impossible to miss their arrival. The additional gunfire announced it quite nicely.

10:07.

She’d been forced to take cover, cut off from the ship and her teammates and unable to take the most straightforward route back to them.

7:51.

She’d gotten stuck in a firefight while trying to inch around the battle that was still carrying on. A bullet caught her in the leg, and Alexis choked back a pained cry.

4:39.

Progress was slow. She’d avoided the majority of Talon’s forces, but the injury to her leg meant she couldn’t go nearly as fast as she’d like to. Her earpiece crackled, signal breaking up too badly for her to understand anything that was being said. Useless piece of shit.

1:25.

Alexis fell for the third time, dragging herself back to her feet with more effort than she’d thought she could manage. A chill ran over her, setting the hairs on the back of her neck on end. She wasn’t alone.

She barely found cover before the sniper shot rang out, shooting right through where her head had been seconds before.

0:42.

Now she really was pinned down, like a butterfly in a glass case.

0:38.

A few shots struck near her, too close for comfort, but she didn’t dare move. They were likely being used to lure her out, trick her into moving right into the crosshairs.

Oh my god, I’m going to die here.

0:15.

She thought she saw dark smoke out of the corner of her eyes, swirling and spiraling. But maybe that was just the fear and blood loss kicking in.

Right as she thought that, it was swirling straight for her at an almost alarming speed, and Alexis knew she wasn’t imagining it. She grabbed her pistol from its holster, holding it up and leveling it at the dark figure that materialized from the smoke, twin shotguns at the ready.

For a moment, maybe two, they faced each other. The sudden silence was deafening.

Something small clicked and seemed to fall from his arm, but Alexis didn’t dare follow its movements. She’d just realized who was standing in front of her.

Reaper.

“...You’ve got to be kidding me.” He said, voice low and gravelly. It took Alexis everything she had not to jump at the sudden sound. His head tilted away, only slightly, as if talking into a comm unit.

“Head back to base, Widowmaker. We have what we came for.” He shot one last glance in Alexis’ direction, and suddenly he was dissolving in a cloud of smoke, vanishing just as suddenly as he’d appeared.

It took Alexis a few moments of dumbfounded processing before she sighed in relief, dropping her pistol to her side so suddenly that the timer on her wrist slid off.

...What?

She picked it up again, brushing the dust and dirt off, and her eyes fell on a similar wristband a few feet away. It must have been what Reaper had dropped.

It turned out that they were matching timers, each displaying the same time.

0:00.

#selfshiptober #knight's writing #ship: Don't Fear the Reaper #ship: We are in Harmony

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incensus-nix · 6 years

Text

.: the escape :.

❝ He’s what? ❞ Brittany grabbed the shoulder’s of Scribe Haylen, her voice disturbed that this was even a possibility.

The scribe held her arms close, just nodded quickly. ❝ I-I’m sorry. The news is spreading like fire. Maxson has him held in the cells. He’ll be executed first thing in the morning. ❞

Brittany felt sick, her arms falling off the others as she held her temples in her hands. ❝ What proof do they have? ❞

❝ Genetic testing... He’s matched a missing construct known as M7-97... ❞ The scribe started, but the Knight turned to her and gave her a threatening look.

❝ Then test again. ❞

❝ We have. Several times in fact... It’s an exact match. ❞

Knight Hart sat herself down, legs weak as she tried to grasp the alarming message given. Brittany had worked directly under Danse since she had been rescued by the Brotherhood of Steel in her childhood. Her family had been caught in the crossfire of raiders and Gen-1 synths, battling out for settlement territories. Carelessness from the raiders who didn’t concern themselves with who could be in the way in a firefight, and the Institute clearing a path for their new mission, too, didn’t have a care for the collateral.

It was the Brotherhood that put an end to the madness, taking out both synth and raider factions to secure the area for the citizens of the Capital Wasteland and establishing themselves as the superior power.

What Brittany saw was a shining beacon of strength and hope after her loses in the forms of bullets and power armor. Her savior was a strapping man with light skin but dark features, commanding the lead and sending his troops forth to recover the land.

And in that soldier’s presence did a young girl latch onto her savior and the Paladin escorted her to their ship. It was that moment to when the Paladin sworn an oath to protect the child and bring her up in the ranks of the Brotherhood.

Nearly two decades later, a knight sits quietly, hands shaking as she comes to realize her most trusted companion had been the enemy all along.

❝ Knight Hart, Paladin Danse needs you. ❞ The scribe was young still, learning her place and position. What she suggested went against the entirety of the Brotherhood of Steel’s identity.

❝ Scribe Haylen, what are you suggesting? ❞ She did not what to think what her sister-in-arms was implying was to help a synth...

The scribe stood a moment, lips tight with sympathetic eyes, nodding slightly. ❝ After everything he’s done for you, and you won’t even go see him... He’s a good man still -- ❞

❝ --He’s a synth! ❞

❝ And he took care of you! ❞

They were now standing toe to toe, Brittany clearly taking the height advantage and looking down at Haylen. As much as she wanted to put the scribe in her place, she made her point very clear. There was no way that the knight couldn’t at least say her final goodbyes...

Arriving at the disciplinary deck of the Prydwen, it was all empty save for one occupied cell. Brittany and Scribe Haylen marched their way threw the narrow cell halls, reaching the end where Paladin Danse sat, staring down into his hands in silence.

❝ Danse... ❞ Haylen spoke, wrapping her hands around the cell doors. ❝ Please look at us... ❞

The shamed soldier looked up, seeing both women staring down at him, the eyes of pity from one and a broken heart in the other’s. ❝ Knight Hart... ❞

Brittany covered her mouth, feeling slightly sick and trying to hold back a gut wrenching cry. She never thought in her entire lifetime that she’d be standing over her Paladin in such a way. ❝ How could this happen... ❞

❝ It’s alright, Knight. ❞ He said plainly, already having accepted his fate as he talked himself through it behind cell doors. ❝ It’s the right thing to do. I’m a synth, which means I must be destroyed. ❞

❝ Danse, no -- ❞ Brittany blurted out, both hands covering her mouth. ❝ Please, don’t... ❞

He stood now, facing her on the other side of the prison, looking her dead in the eye, sure of himself in his decision. ❝ If you disobey your orders, you're not only betraying Maxson, you're betraying the Brotherhood of Steel and everything it stands for. ❞

❝ I don’t care -- ❞ her voice broke, tears welling up now in a way she couldn’t control.

❝ Listen to me, Knight -- Synths can't be trusted. Machines were never meant to make their own decisions, they need to be controlled. Technology that's run amok is what brought the entire world to its knees and humanity to the brink of extinction. ❞ He tried explaining his own rational, his tone getting firmer as he spoke.

Gripping the bars of the prison, she pressed her forehead to the cold metal. ❝ I said I don’t care, Danse! ❞

❝ I need to be the example, not the exception! ❞

❝ Then maybe we’re wrong! ❞ She shouted back, hot tears flowing down her cheeks as she became overwhelmed with her emotions. It was only then did she really come to the realization that she hadn’t idolized the Brotherhood and their beliefs. It was him. Danse could’ve been a Gunner mercenary or a simply farmer. Whatever it was, she followed him. He saved her, and that’s what she owed her life to. Not any faction or organization. She owed her life’s debt to the man bound to the executed my morning’s light.

❝ Please, keep your voices down... ❞ the scribe reminded them, risking a lot to simply be there visiting and having such conversations. In truth, Haylen was envious of Knight Hart and Paladin Danse’s relationship. The scribe, too, looked up to the Paladin and sought his approval and friendship for years. But, she wasn’t a soldier. She was studious, a learner, picking up fragments of the Old World and studying them until she could share the information to better improve the Brotherhood of Steel for their own greater purpose.

However, she wasn’t much like her brothers and sisters in strong biases. If Haylen could learn and apply science to their tech, then she would, but she was overall curious about the world around her. The Brotherhood of Steel granted access to all this information, giving the scribe endless possible sources of information.

In truth, she didn’t even hate synths all that much. She hated what they did to people, and what people did in that fear, but if a synth, unknowing... Living a life in a veil of ignorance... It was just as any human would be doing. But such thoughts were frowned upon, so she kept her lips shut tight.

❝ I know this is difficult... For you both. But this is what’s right. I can’t live, I shouldn’t live. ❞ Danse tried to reason with them again, his expression far more saddened than before.

❝ It doesn’t have to be this way... ❞ Brittany exhausted her pleading, her voice low and tired. ❝ Please, this is wrong. ❞

❝ This life is wrong, Knight. I can’t keep leading you into a lie. ❞

❝ It’s not, Paladin. ❞ Scribe Haylen chimed in, agreeing with Brittany. Catching them both off guard, she continued. ❝ Everything you’d done was for the good of the Brotherhood. For the people of the Capital and Commonwealth. ❞

❝ But when are they my memories or someone else’s? ❞ He argued.

❝ What if it wasn’t about memories, but actions? That’s... that’s all you, Danse. ❞

He stood in silence, unwilling to accept her argument. ❝ Please, don’t do this to yourselves. Just... go. ❞

Brittany just shook her head at him, determined. ❝ No. No, I’m going to get you out of here. ❞

❝ And then what? ❞ He barked, not even amusing the idea.

❝ And then we’ll run away. ❞

❝ That’s a foolish plan and we’ll end up dead. They won’t let us go free so easily. I won’t let you put your life on the line for mine. ❞

Glancing to the scribe, then back to Danse, she swallowed hard. ❝ You saved a small child from becoming like the rest of the world. I’m going to save you now. ❞

❝ Don’t -- ❞

❝ That’s an order, Paladin. ❞ Brittany stood tall, nodding once, then nudging Haylen to get moving so that she could follow. It would take the night to get him to escape, but it would happen. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Leaving him for now in his holding cell, the two women got to work, devising a plan to get them out. Haylen was already starting to formulate one even before she had spoken to Brittany, she admitted, hoping that the Knight would jump on board with the idea of sparing her friend.

❝ And you just somehow knew I would be okay with this? ❞ Brittany asked, surprised in the depth of thinking Haylen already had gotten to in all this.

❝ We both care about Danse. But, of the two of us that is capable of keeping him safe, well... That would be you, Hart. ❞ It pained the scribe to admit it, but it was a truth. And any heat that she got after would have been worth it.

It was rare in these moments did Brittany shed her soldier skin and reveal human emotion beneath the armor she build up for so long. Embracing the scribe, she held on a moment. ❝ Thank you, Haylen. ❞

Hugging her back, Scribe Haylen wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, then gave the other a weak smile. ❝ Please, take care of him. This is the most fragile he’ll ever be.. He’ll need someone strong enough to carry for you both. ❞

Touching the other’s cheek and nodding, Brittany’s eyes weld up again. ❝ I promise. ❞

With the two women in understanding, they got back to work on the escape plan. It would come down to the scribe adjusting the locks a bit and breaking them, having to move Danse to another cell. Brittany, prepping two sets of power armor, would come down to the prison bay and order a false attack on a group of super mutants at the Boston Airport. From there, the attention would be diverted and both Hart and Danse would escape in the firefight hidden in their armor and flee the Prydwen.

❝ Think it’s doable? ❞ Brittany asked, looking for honesty.

❝ As long as keep things natural, we are certain to make it so. Ready? ❞ Scribe Haylen grabbing her tools, smiled a bit, with more confidence than before.

❝ Ready. ❞

As their plan went into motion, the Knight told those still working on their power armors that she was taking parts of Danse’s to eventually convert onto her own, the soldiers thinking nothing of it other than a good use of resources. With most of the Prydwen fast asleep or few enough to keep their eyes peeled from her, she pressed in a few power cores into the armor sets, then made way to the ammo keep. There, she helped herself to a mini nuke reseting on the shelf, then quickly ran to the edge of the ship, holding it out and ready to fall.

❝ Here goes nothing... ❞ Dropping the mini nuke from her hands, the bomb quickly fell beneath the giant blimp and exploded beneath the bay, alerting soldiers to wake and equip themselves, all rushing down to the airport.

❝ Greenskin bastards! ❞ Brittany yelled, falsifying their enemy and sending off her fellow Brotherhood soldiers to search for the attackers.

In the cell block, Scribe Haylen began to mess with the locks of the prison hold, fiddling with it several times in attempts to break it apart.

Both hearing the explosion, Danse’s eyes went wide. ❝ What’s happening out there? ❞

❝ Um, nothing? ❞ The scribe lied, finally busting open the lock and pushing the doors open. ❝ But, we maaay be experiencing some nuclear fire... I recommend getting into a suit. ❞

❝ What are you getting at? I’m not leaving. ❞

❝ You can be so thickheaded. Get going, Hart is waiting for you. Go! ❞

Torn between reporting them all and actually following through with their scheme, Danse and Haylen hid by a wedge in the doorframe, keeping them in the dark while soldiers with laser rifles ran quickly past them. Few short moments later, they were in the clear, making their way to where the power armor suits were being held. Waiting, Knight Hart stepped into her suit, placing her helmet over her head and blocking anyone’s entrance besides Scribe Haylen and Paladin Danse’s.

❝ You’re really going through with this? ❞ He asked, hesitating stepping into the armor.

❝ Are you? ❞ Brittany asked, her voice muffled to sound more mechanical by the suit’s voice receptor.

He said nothing in response, but climbed into his suit and let the limbs fold around his body, then flipping the helm of his suit as he usually did and placing it over his head.

The scribe below them both smiled, then nodded to them. ❝ Good luck... And goodbye. ❞

Brittany had already made her peace, but Danse nodded in response now, his chest feeling a bit heavier than before. ❝ Goodbye, Haylen. ❞ It would be their last spoken words to each other.

Now ranking with the other soldiers to assist in the attack, Knight authorized a take off in a vertibird, a two man piloted helicopter that hand Danse in the driver’s seat while Hart manned the minigun attached to the side.

❝ Get this thing flying, soldier. ❞ Brittany said in command, careful to not use his name in the process. Without spoken response, Danse took off for the launching dock and turned the ship west, flying from the rest of the battle and leaving the airport behind.

❝ You think they noticed yet? ❞ Danse said, slipping off his helmet now that they were out of clear visuals of the Prydwen.

❝ Yes... I think they could be hunting for us now. ❞

They both went quiet, Brittany taking a seat next to the Paladin.

❝ What do you think they’ll do to Haylen? ❞ Brittany asked, her voice scared.

❝ She’s smart. I’m sure she had an exit strategy already set. ❞

❝ God, I hope you’re right... ❞

They flew for hours until they reached a stretch of radiated marsh, landing the vertibird in it as they quickly leaped onto dryer land in their suits. As much as they would like to keep flying in it, they were more of a target when seen in a flying airship when few had ever seen on in the Commonwealth.

❝ Where are we at the moment? ❞ Danse asked, looking around at the unfamiliar territory.

❝ More north than west, I think. These wetlands separate the rural areas from the city. If we want to seek refuge, we’ll probably need to head that way. ❞ They needed to lose a trail, though she was certain they hadn’t been caught in sight just yet. The disruption was far too large for them to organize a search and destroy mission one after another.

❝ Lose the suits? ❞

❝ Not yet... My geiger counter keeps clicking. Better off staying in them until we reach more populated areas. Then we’ll stand out a bit too much... ❞

❝ Roger that. ❞

As they trudged onward, through the muck and irradiate mud, they climbed through a heap of fallout and trash, breaking open a closed gate into the outskirts of the greater Boston area. Avoiding any contact, it seemed they had gotten lucky with the barren streets at night. Usually, it was an easier time for raiders to make their moves, the night shielding murder and thievery.

Approaching a collapsed prewar apartment building, the two runaways abandoned their power armors, both soldiers feeling a sense of identity torn from them. They lived much of their lives in battle with those suits. But they were a target in them, and hardly good for being unseen. Knight Hart placed her holotags on the suit’s wrist, the last bit of Brotherhood stripped from her.

In the rubble of building, Brittany salvaged bits and pieces of prewar clothing that had yet to completely fallen apart over two hundred and plus years. Handing over to Danse, it was a simple tee shirt and overcoat, some bits been eaten away by radroaches that found their way in and out of the rubble. For herself, she manages to gather up a torn tank top, a small workman’s probably, along with faded blue jeans and leather jacket. It would do, at least for them both to be camouflaged.

Grabbing their weapons, they made their way deeper into the city’s remains, staying undetected until the colors of dawn began to peer over the broken buildings. They were exhausted, dragging themselves through heaps of broken buildings and never stopping to rest.

Not until they reached the glowing red neon that read over a few battered doors reading Goodneighbor overtop. The Brotherhood knew of this place but never entered. It was a place for every bit of lawlessness imaginable, run by an incorrigible ghoul of a mayor, addicted to his chems and anarchy.

❝ This is a bad idea, ❞ said Danse, lowering his head as he made his way first into the city.

❝ It’s shelter, ❞ Brittany argued back, slinging her gun over her shoulder to look less threatening. Several of the town’s guards, if they could even be called that, eyed the new group but only made side remarks about staying out of trouble and there would be none.

They managed to salvage a few caps, selling fusion cores and bullets they had left over in their ammo packs, using the money to get rest over at the Rexford Inn. It was a troubling to sleep in the morning, trying to get rest when everyone else was beginning their day, and not by the Brotherhood’s usual standards. The smell of chems and waste began to fill the senses, making the already emotionally exhausted duo to start to feel the physical signs. Still, they powered through, gaining at least a scattered few hours of sleep in until about midday.

❝ We can’t stay here... ❞ Danse confirmed again, seated now incognito at the table with Brittany in the Third Rail, the underground lounge of Goodneighbor. At least they could be away from the grime the settlement produced, not that being in a bar was that much better but Magnolia’s entertainment was far better than listening to retching at the Rexford.

❝ We gotta make due, Danse. Neither one of us is gunna make it out of here unless we get our shit together. ❞

❝ Should’ve just left me there... This is a worse mess. ❞

Brittany was hurt by the statement, adverting her eyes and blinking a few times to dry out any tears that were trying to press forward. ❝ Don’t say that. ❞

❝ But it’s true. Now we’re stuck in this forsaken city with no exit plan. The Brotherhood will find us. We know. We used to do this. ❞

❝ Danse, stop, I’m tired. ❞

❝ There’s no place for a synth like me. I don’t fit in here and if not here, I can’t imagine anywhere else. ❞

❝ I said I’m tired -- ❞

❝ Ahem -- ❞ A figure appeared to them both, then pulling up a chair and seating himself at the edge of the table, setting his beer on the tabletop. ❝ You guys should keep your topic of conversation to chems and gossip if you want to remain invisible. ❞ The figure tilts his cap up, his face hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, even in the darkest part of the lounge. ❝ Which, if I’m sitting here, then you’re doing a really poor job of that. ❞

❝ Can we help you? ❞ Danse’s voice was annoyed that someone had interjected onto their conversation.

❝ Nah, I’m good actually. But you might want to consider how I can help you. ❞ There was a sly grin, the man pushing his glasses up his nose.

Brittany glared at him. Goodneighbor was full of schemers, and this one looked no different. ❝ Whatever you want, just get lost. ❞

The man, leaning back into his seat, lifted his hat to rub the top of his head, then placed his hat back down and rested his hands behind his neck. ❝ I assume muscle boy here is a synth? ❞ Brittany and Danse both gave the stranger threatening glares. ❝ You said it, not me. Promise, I just have good ears. And, don’t mind me adding, but I hear you’ve gotta problem with this fine city Mayor Hancock has set up? ❞ The two of them remained unfazed. ❝ Honestly, same. Never really liked Goodneighbor, but hey, when you wanna let your freak out, this is the place to do it. ❞

❝ Stop wasting time, what are you here for? ❞ Brittany spoke for the duo, readying herself for a fight if need be.

The stranger, leaning forward a bit, straightened his cap out and waved for them to get closer too, to which, they did as commanded. ❝ Keep heading northwest. Beyond the RedRocket and river, you’ll see a sign out front. Sanctuary. If you’re willing, there’s a place for you. ❞

Sliding away as quickly as he came, the drifter stopped at the bar to chat a few with Whitechapel Charlie, the Mr. Handy bartender who relished in giving folks a hard time.

❝ Sanctuary? Think it’s a ploy? ❞ Danse asked, perhaps humoring the idea, seeing any place was better than Goodneighbor.

She rested her chin in her hand, unsure exactly what to say. It seemed she was the one coming up with all the answers now, something she wasn’t exactly certain in doing around Paladin Danse. ❝ Probably... But they don’t like our kind much here either. We’re not exactly fitting in as best as I hoped. ❞

❝ We should go. ❞

❝ He really talked you into it that quickly, huh? ❞ Brittany was surprised how soon Danse leapt onto the idea, but at least he wasn’t moping around as he did since they had gotten to the city. ❝ Alright then. Lets move out. ❞

It took the duo two days to reach the edge of the river, the giant, monolithic looking rocket placed over the fueling garage as a symbol that they were close. The bridge leading them into the the subdivision had a broken statue of what looked to be an Old World military figure from one of the ancient wars. Copper in make, most likely, though it was green with oxidation. Or radiation could’ve stuck to it after all this time...

At the entrance of the neighborhood, there was a caravan just leaving, two pack brahmin mooing loudly as they passed by the duo, as if they were announcing that the neighborhood had company. The settlement guard paused the machine gun turrets from open firing, not until she got a quick investigation of who these new folks were.

❝ We were told to follow the path here... A man in sunglasses in Goodneighbor... ❞ Brittany spoke, making sure that she would be the voice of the two of them.

The guard smirked. ❝ Looks like Deacon just couldn’t help himself. Get yourselves on in. Sounds like you’ve had a long road behind you. ❞

Danse and Brittany looked at the other, surprised with how easily they had been trusted into safekeeping, but neither one would fight it. As they moseyed along the broken street, they noticed the buzzing of vendors and farmers doing their daily commands, a few of the Minutemen discussing something intently with a few other civilians.

❝ Hey -- ❞ a familiar voice dragged out. ❝ Though you’d never show up. Jeez, I’ve been here for like, ever, waiting for you guys. Get lost? I thought your types were all about navigation and what not. ❞ The man now wore a simple tee shirt and jeans, styled with a pompadour wig but still hidden behind the sunglasses.

❝ Are these the Brotherhood soldiers you were telling me about? ❞ A woman spoke now, her silver hair tied back with scars stretching across her lips and extending into her cheeks.

❝ Yep. Thought they could be handy. ❞

The silver haired woman approached, eyeing them both. ❝ So, Brotherhood of Steel, hm? You, ❞ she points to Danse. ❝ The synth, right? ❞

❝ Keep it quiet -- ❞ Brittany defended, but the woman waved her off in disregard.

❝ I don’t care, actually. But I’ve made this town a refuge for those that are deemed unwanted. Like ghouls, synths, I don’t know, whatever people are these days. And, unlike where you dragged yourselves out of, I’ve have rules. You are to be dressed, clean and serve with a purpose. I want all my residents to show some proper manners around here. If you want chems, by all means, just say your please and thank you’s. Fair? ❞

It was alarming to say the least, but they both nodded respectfully. ❝ Yes ma’am, ❞ Danse spoke, for once feeling slightly intimidated with the woman’s power.

❝ Ugh, ma’am. I feel like my grandmother. Go make yourselves useful. ❞ She waved them off, rubbing the side of her head. The Minutemen had been nagging at her about other business but she was more interested in finding wine.

❝ Can someone else fill us in with what just happened? ❞ Brittany asked, looking mostly the the man they now identified as Deacon.

The spy smirked, then rested his hands behind his neck, just as he did at the Third Rail. ❝ The Railroad has set up some safe havens; this is one of them. Seeing that you were Brotherhood of Steel, well, assuming ex-Brotherhood now, because, y’know, synth stuff, thought you might need better protection than a few Triggermen in Goodneighbor. Bethany, the woman you just met, she’s got you covered. Just like, take showers and stuff. She’s really weird about some things. And do not, I repeat, do not kill any of the cats. They are for petting, not food. ❞

❝ I’ve never even seen a cat... ❞ Brittany admitted, only reading about them in book written by scribes.

❝ Well, maybe you should just steer clear. They’re, uh, still kinda feral... ❞ Deacon stretched his lips into a dramatic frown, then started walking, assuming they’ll follow. ❝ Look, I’m not really sure about you two. But we’ve got good ties with the Minutemen and Railroad’s been trusting out here. If you’re really done with the Brotherhood of Steel, you can find your place here. We’re keeping a close watch on you both, though. Step out of line and -- ❞ He motioned a gun shot motion, blowing out the smoke from his fingertips.

❝ Understood... ❞ Danse said, looking over to Brittany for assurance.

❝ Look, there’s more to fill in, but just get yourselves settled for now. There’s some rooms in the blue house just where you entered in from. If you want work though, we could use some more muscle. Turrets are useful and all, but having some eyes and ears would be great. Think it over, we could use a few more like you two. ❞

While Deacon excused himself, Brittany looked up to Danse, pleading a bit in her eyes. ❝ We could belong here... ❞

❝ We’ll see, Knight. ❞

❝ I’m not a knight anymore... ❞

There was a small silence between them, Brittany reaching for Danse’s rough hand to hold into her own.

Gripping it back gently, Danse simply nodded and spoke softly. ❝ We could belong here. ❞

#*my writing #ch: brittany #ch: danse #ch: deacon

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