#I am aware flights are stressful but sir you have been doing less than the minimum for weeks and making my life hell

[exopelagic]

ohhhh my supervisor is so sick of me

[yoursinfulurges]

AntiHero

[The Venom Within] <- read part one here.

Description: The events that soon followed your emotional downfall turns dark and horrifying after Hydra gains possession of your freedom. 

1/2 of part 2

Warnings: Abuse. Kidnapping. Angst. 

Disclaimer: In this story' venom has no conscious and is simply just the readers alter, or the readers inner thoughts and insecurities. This takes place after civil war time. So Endgame and Infinity War never happens.

____________ 

You huffed inaudibly, hearing your stomach roar from starvation for the fifth time this minute. You had only gotten twelve blocks away from the tower, which was still very much visible when you turned back. Annoyingly so, you tried to avoid any peripheral contact with it, in fear of changing your mind and running straight back. 

Even trying your very hardest to block out any childhood memories spent there from coming back to you, as the last thing you needed was for more tears to be shed. You felt eerily deprived of sensation, and you didn't know if it was because of the cold New York air or the fact that you left a part of you behind back in that tower. The one capable of deciphering the many layers of the overwhelming apathy you ever so felt reside within you. 

The one able to comprehend and break down your other feelings that remained intacted, yet almost seemed brain dead. As if not computing the sitution that had happened moments ago, defying how your tense heart truly ached. Feeling as though you were just a walking body, an empty shell of the person that once was. You knew your inner subconscious was protecting you from added trauma, and was doing the best thing it could by preventing you from feeling the complexity of it all and only allowing minor details to slide. As said feelings would only send you into a spiralling depth of anxiety.

 And only god knows what would happened if your emotions alone suddenly decided it was time to have a panic attack at this very moment. Despite being greatful for the somewhat unorthodox coping mechanism that was forced upon you, you were at war with yourself. Almost angry that you couldn't process the overwhelming wave of sensations, having to submit to the black cold solitude of your mind till your brain finally decides to open up and evaluate just how badly the damage was to your mental health. 

But till that happens your soul was left to wonder and yield in confusion instead of settling on one dependent emotion.... 

You were conflicted to no doubt. 

You were angry yet, if tried hard enough and dug a bit deeper, pass the wall you built around your heart, you found yourself strangely at peace. Contradicting the forefront frustration you had with the profound perplexity of the situation, confusing you once more. As a part of you almost beams at the sudden calmness that over came you, in contrast to your outbursts merely an hour ago. 

Sure, you felt a myriad of miniscule emotions coincide you, tiny enough not to affect you in any way shape or form, or take away your apathetic structure, (thankfully so). And you knew that you were definitely far from okay as of right now, especially since you were somewhat going through an existential crisis. Yet in a funny defiant kind of way you were fine. It was as if your amygdala had froze, preventing you from registering everything that had happened. Forcing you to rerun the moments leading up to here in order to get to the bottom of what your true emotions and opinions were. 

You made it out of the tower unnoticed, given the fact that you dressed a lot more muted than you'd normally do. Nobody would think that it was Y/n Stark under the hood of one of Steve Rogers' old jacket. Your clothes weren't exactly ideal, but you were in no position to complain, you acted in a panic and grabbed whatever was on the way to the exit. 

That being Natasha's grey hoodie and Steve's oversized leather jacket. Both laid untouched, draped over the abandoned conference room chairs. You saw it the moment you stepped out the elevator, peering through the glass walls just to confirm whether it was really their's. It was a given that the room hadn't been cleaned out yet, being that it had been months since anyone has been in there. But then again, only a few people had conformation to that area of the tower. 

Without thinking, you had scanned your hand onto the access pad, and before you knew it, the glass door slid open. A decision you silently curse yourself on now for doing, since there was no doubt about it that Friday had already informed your dad that your last digital encounter was going into that room. You knew how incredibly smart that AI was, so you even made it an effort to take the route with less cameras. Even purposely running around the building, going to useless area's to confuse her in the future before sliding pass an unsupervised emergency exit. 

Despite the fact that it was 1:30 AM, the streets of Manhattan was as lively as ever. Though there was a lot less traffic at this time of the night. It gave you comfort to know that you weren't completely alone walking the streets. You may be skilled in hand-to-hand combat, but at the end of the day, you were still a girl, and that fact alone made you a clear target for some. 

And you doubt you could put up much of a fight, especially with how starved weak (and not to mention injured) you were. You had to be weary of who was around you at all times, stick to crowded areas yet be inconspicuous enough not to be spotted by cameras. As you knew for a fact that Friday was most likely scanning the area. 

Though despite how stress driven the situation was and how fidgety you felt, you weren't completely wandering lost, you had a destination set at mind and it gave you all the hope that you needed to keep moving onward. That location being the small little Chinese restaurant tucked away at a back alley passage seven blocks away from where you were. As you were quite close with the owner, being a regular weekly. So you knew for a fact that if you asked she would let you stay for a couple of days without hesitation. The small cozy family owned business reminded you so much of your old home, back when you still lived with your mother. 

After that night- or more so week spent with Tony, your mother had decided it would be best to stay put in China for a while. Delusions of starting something more than just a hook up with the oh so' brilliant Tony Stark flooded her mind. She wanted to be at arms reach for the man and stay exactly where he left her. Tony told her multiple times over the course of seven days that he'd be back for her, but he never came back... 

As weeks went by your mother had come to the realization that those words were merely nothing but empty promises and drunken slurs. Thus feeding her resentment for the small little child that grew inside her. You weren't a native of China but you were born and raised there up until age eleven or twelve, when your mother passed from cancer. Your childhood for the most part was dry and barren of any affection, having to submit and be degraded to being your mother's personal maid. Despite the mistreatment you had to endure, you couldn't exactly complain because you weren't exactly suffering. You had a roof over your head and all the food and water you could ever want, not to mention access to education. From a young age you had always shown signs of carrying the infamous Stark gene, harboring a profound skill to grasp and master any subject thrown your way. At the age of only six you were already capable of speaking three different languages; English, Chinese, and French. You had all characteristics of being a Stark. 

Except of course the looks.... Which was primarily why Tony didn't believe you were his child to begin with. You knew from the age of twelve that you looked more like your mother rather than your dad, but the contrast was blatantly eye striking next to the man whom was supposed to be your father. You had your mom's features more not to mention her complexion, being that your mother was [your race]. 

(If you're white then imagine y/n is paler or tanner than Tony, I'm Asian so....) 

You had never forgotten the most pivotal and accurate representation of your relationship that unfolded the day you first met... 

🕸🕷🕸 

You ran towards the man stood a few feet away from you, letting go of the woman's hand. Your face beams displaying a blinding smile as you ran towards Tony. 

"Dad!" 

You screamed in joy running towards the male engulfing his mid waist with your arms. The man looked down at you in a fright, his brows furrowing together as he looked at the Stark family lawyer and the social worker. 

He gently yet assertively pulls your arms off of him, not sparing you a glance as you looked up in question. 

"Are you sure she's mine?" 

Your heart drops at that moment as all becomes clear... The smile no longer present on your face as you looked down and distanced yourself away from Tony. Something no one took notice of. 

"We've already done a DNA test on her sir and she's yours..." The social worker lady spoke timidly, clutching her files tightly. 

"Well do two more tests, god damn it!" 

Tony screamed causing you to flinch slightly. A prickling sensation of shame washing over you as you watched him begins to pace, rubbing his face with the palm of his hands in distress. 

"Come here sweetie, let's go get you something to eat, you must be hungry from your flight." 

A woman with ginger hair spoke lightly as she forced out a smile, extending her hand for you before glaring at the man when you took her hold. 

"I want a cheese burger...." 

She nodded briefly, pulling you away from the scene and straight towards the elevator. 

🕸🕷🕸 

And at that day was when you realized that things were only going to get more complicated from there. Because the first moment that you both met, he had already decided that he didn't want you. 

Though contrary to his primal feelings, you were very much aware of your fathers attempts in searching for you, even though it had only been forty five minutes since the fight. It was reassuring but, you weren't in the mood to awe about it. You were still mad at him, and had zero plans of forgiving him any time soon. Or returning any time soon... You wanted him to worry and loose sleep, it was petty but it would be a mere compensation for the suffering he put you through. 

You brush pass a halted group of people, no more than twelve, lightly shoving pass them irritably. Slightly annoyed with their odd behavior, as they all seemed to be watching something you couldn't care less about. You let out an inaudible scoff, as you walked passed them. Your attention devoted to unwrapping the bubble gum you had in hand. Harshly shoving the minty treat into your mouth before putting your bandaged hands into the pockets of the leather jacket. You heaved in relief, finally giving your roaring stomach a somewhat rest after fourteen hours of starvation. The gum was probably months old by now since you found it in Nat's hoodie, but you couldn't care less. It was only meant to sustain your hunger for twenty more minutes. 

You walk at a leisurely pace, stopping slightly to push the pedestrian button at the cross walk. You watched as multiple cars pass by, rolling your eye irritably as you hear the crowd of people gasp in awe again. You normally weren't so easily agitated, but you're currently having a hard time figuring out just what your new normal would be from now on... Tapping your foot on the concrete pavement, you wished time would speed up. 

"What do you think is happening up there?" 

"Who knows" 

"Maybe he's just testing out his new suits.' 

With that, you freeze all movements. It was as if everything stilled at the command of one word. You were scared shitless of all the possibilities it could be, not knowing whether you were willing to look or not, but your anxiety was killing you. Feeling it increase at every breath, taunting you like marionettes on a string, dearing you to look, only to scream no just afterwards. With an in take of air, you pushed back those thoughts and slowly, you turned to view what all the fuss was about. Gasping in shock and horror at the sight infront of you. 

He was insane. 

There stood the Stark tower tall and proud, being lit up like a firecracker with multiple yellow streaks of light ejecting from the building. It looked as though hundreds of missiles were being fired into the air, contrasting the twilight sky. Even with the skyscrapers that surrounded the tower, the sight demanded all the attention. No, those weren't missiles...  

They behaved too smart to be simply just that. And you knew better than to dismiss them so easily. Multiple flew in every direction, some swirling around the tower, and others going straight up. There was at least two or four going north and south, while a dozen takes off headed east and west. It looked as though someone was celebrating New Years early, and doing so extravagantly, except it was the middle of fall... 

The sight was beautiful you couldn't deny that, but you were confused as to what exactly that could mean. Was it meant for you? Was he calling you back? Was that his version of an Amber alert? Or maybe they celebrating that you were finally gone... Images of Pepper, Tony, and Peter celebrating your leave quickly flash through your mind, stabbing you in the back ones more. Quickly, you shake them out of your head, returning your attention once again to the event in front of you. Your brows pulled together in question before it officially clicked. Hitting you hard like a brick, demolishing the wall of protection you built around yourself to stop the flood of overwhelming emotions. Feeling a small tug in your chest, the numbness that guarded your heart slowly dispersed as anxiety crept up your spine. 

He had unleashed the entirety of his Iron Legion's to search for you. 

All 108 suits.... 

Without thinking, you quickly crouched down, seeing one flying low into the street, right towards you. Your hood fell from a gust of wind as your hair blew all around. You screw your eyes tightly, covering your ears at a loud swooshing sound invading your eardrums. Thankfully, it flew pass you. You ignored the cheering of the crowd, quickly trying to run and sprint into an underground sub station. Turning back one last time, only to be greeted by more iron suits taking off from the tower. You frantically focusing your eyes, seeing a blue and red figure swinging from a far. 

      Peter....  

As luck may have it, he swung left, following a completely different road. 

And with that, you ran. You ran as fast as your feet could carry you, frantically looking for the 99th street substation opening so that you could hide underground. 

Cut short gasps of panic erupt from your mouth as you hurriedly ran across the street. You closed your eyes tight, feeling tears forming and falling down your face. Oh no, not now... Cold frost bitten air hits your skin as you maneuver yourself around bystanders. Not now, not now, not now. The tears fell more frequently as you squeezed your eyes shut once more. 

You were not going to send yourself into and anxiety attack, not now, and not because of this. 

Your running comes to a halt as you stand exactly where you're supposed to be, eyes quickly looking around in search for the station opening. 

There! 

In a fright, damp cold sweats engulfs your body as you enter and ran down the steps, out from above ground sight. You jump over the turnstile, panting from the tiredness as you took note of how soar your legs were becoming. You gulp, chest rising and falling rapidly as you looked around to see if anyone saw your odd behavior. And to your surprise the station was completely empty, odd... Though that could very well be because the scheduled 1:40 train had just took off fifteen minutes ago. You moved with hesitation and weariness as you looked around for any person in sight. Silently, you plopped yourself down onto a steel bench, trying desperately for your breathing to calm down. 

You didn't know how long it had been or how much time passed since you've sat down, but you stayed put fidgeting for what seemed like hours. Your thighs bounced anxiously as you kept an eye out for any short of movement, the dimly lit grimy station gave you an on edge feeling and it didn't sit right in your stomach. You felt like you were being watched from all sorts of corners and you shook it off as anxiety but something told you to stay guarded. 

Your ears would perk from time to time, hearing loud gusts of winds and cheering from above ground, ensuring the fact that your father's search party wasn't going away anytime soon. 

You hear movement coming in, snapping out of your haze as you felt a presence sit beside you. You peer up meekly in curiosity before gasping in shock and horror at who the person was. 

      Brock Rumlow.... 

"Long time no see little Stark." He spoke voice raspy and sinister as you cringe at the sight of his face. There, half of his profile was burnt and agitated red as one of his eyes was completely titanium white, you figured he was blind there. Wanda really did a number on him as you all suspected that she had killed him.... 

Little Stark.... That was something only Fury called you... 

You swallow in fear as you notice five more men appearing suddenly. You suddenly felt incredibly hyper aware of the situation, your vision tunneling as your heart rate increases. This was really happening... 

"I've waited a long time for this kid... knock her out!" 

Before you could scream in distress a throbbing pain consumes the back of your skull, and then everything turned black...

_____________

I owe you guys an explanation, and to put it simply, I was depressed and felt unmotivated so I took a lot of time to myself... I wasn't aware that so many people were expecting a follow up to a stupid little story I had written in April... I am without of words and am absolutely overwhelmed by the amount of support and love you all have given me. Yet the feeling of being pressured to write came with the notion of so much positivity, thus tainting it. I can't promise when the second half of part two will come out, but know that it is coming......

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[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt.2)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: okaayy this took longer to write than i was hoping for but here it is!

4.2k words

Warnings: some harassment, light injury

It amazed you that despite the extreme overuse of your quirk in the past thirty-six hours, you were still able to hold on to a remaining amount of wavering consciousness. You’d like to think it was because you’ve grown stronger after using it so much over the past few years. In reality, it was most likely due to the chilled wind that blew against your form keeping you awake as you walked home, mind still reeling from the events towards the end of your shift.

On a normal weekday the venture back to your apartment would only take roughly fifteen minutes, twelve if you took a few less than safe shortcuts. Now however, the concept of time was not something your short circuited brain could understand. With limbs feeling like they were made of lead, you could only imagine how much longer this ordeal was going to take.

With your brain on autopilot, you let your thoughts wander in hopes that you’d just blank until you reached your destination. That was until you met the familiar alleyway to your left on the sidewalk.

Doing a quick cost-benefit analysis, you deduced that in your state, shaving off a few minutes of travel time with this detour may be crucial if you want to make it home without collapsing before you got there. Although you were aware of the shady business that went down in areas like this, the alleyway was the only option if you wanted to fall asleep in your own bed.

It was pitch black outside, a few dim street lamps serving as the only form of illumination. The alleyway was dark, but there was just enough light bouncing off the walls for you to discern the narrow path ahead.

You made a final decision, turning down the path despite the pit in your stomach that had just begun to form. I just need to focus on getting home, you told yourself, attempting to calm your nerves.

About thirty feet in and you realized just how stupid you were for ever thinking this was a good idea.

On the other side of the alleyway, the only exit to the narrow path, you could just barely see the silhouette of a tall, large figure step into the clearing. Squinting, your clouded brain slowly identified that the person, seemingly a man, was gradually walking in your direction. 

By now you were about halfway through the passage. Understanding that the man likely had bad intentions, you pivoted on your heels and sped up back down the way you came.

...At least that’s what you were going to do, but blocking your path, lazily sauntering in your direction were two more equally large statured men.

Just like that your heart sunk into the now gaping pit in your stomach, the feeling giving you whiplash. Frozen in place, you felt your heart pounding as if it were ready to burst right through your chest. It’s okay, just give them your bag and run for it if they try anything, it’s not like you’d lose much anyways.

You looked back around to see the first figure had drawn close, now standing roughly ten feet away. Head whipping to face the other two again, you found them to have closed the same distance.

One of them, you couldn’t tell who in the darkness, spoke up. “Hey there cutie, what’s a little lady like you doing out all by herself?” His voice was rough, sounding like he smoked a pack a day.

Behind you the other man joined in, startling you. “Yeah, don’t you know how dangerous it is at night baby?”

At this point he had produced what looked like a crowbar. He may have had it before, but your memory was already failing you. The effects of your rapidly increasing heart rate were becoming unbearably severe at this point. Seeing black spots forming at the edges of your vision, along with a dizziness that felt sickening, you wondered if you’d even be able to reason with these guys. 

Somehow you sputtered out a defence. “I-I swear, whatever money I have y-you can take it. I really don’t want any trouble, I promise.”

You hear a low chuckle behind you, but you didn’t turn around, or rather you couldn’t, fear taking root and holding you in place.

“C’mon now sugar, we just wanna have a little fun is all. Why don’t you just be good and play along, yeah?”

Nothing you could’ve done would make any words come out of your mouth in protest. Instead, all you could comprehend was the sudden absence of noise around you. 

The men hadn’t left, and there was still the sound of distant life outside the alleyway that could probably be heard. But none of that was being processed in your mind.

Dimly, you could see the man in front of you talking, his mouth moving to form words, but it was clear now that the surge of panic and adrenaline had incapacitated your form. Your hearing had failed you, replaced with what sounded like blood rushing through your head. 

It was time for the rest of your body to follow suit, crumbling under the severe exhaustion and aggressive response from your body trying to activate its fight or flight senses.

Knees buckling beneath your form, your body swayed slightly to the side as you collapsed hard onto the concrete. Laying there completely limp, your eyes fluttered closed with heavy eyelids. You processed that nothing you could do would prevent unconsciousness, effectively giving up.

It took a few more seconds for sleep to completely envelope you, now unable to even lift a finger in protest. Maybe it was just hallucinations from your lucid, half asleep state, but you could’ve sworn you could make out the distant sounds of loud cursing from multiple people. Maybe even a few pained grunts here and there.

But that comprehension was swiftly cut short, your body finally succumbing to its stresses, knocking you out like a light.

_______

Hizashi was seated in a cushioned armchair positioned just off the edge of the hospital bed so he could keep an eye on the figure laying in front of him. Eyes unmoving from that one spot, he watched the rise and fall of your chest as your unconscious form remained otherwise still.

For a moment he glanced at his wristwatch, seeing that he’d been looking after you for a little under two hours, now being 11:06 pm. During all this time your form had remained in what the doctors had explained as pretty much a coma, brought on by extreme strain of the body’s energy. It wasn’t likely to last long, but the reasoning behind it was concerning enough that they’d administered fluids which you were also lacking by an equally unhealthy amount.

Having more than enough time to think, the voice hero attempted to deduce any possible explanations as to how you’d let your health deteriorate so much. He’d had his fair share of experience when it came to seeing what the effects of overworking can have on the human body. This however was most definitely up there, especially for someone in your line of work.

Bringing him out of his thoughts, a nurse lightly rapped on the door before entering. “Pardon me Yamada sir, but visitor hours ended at 9 pm. I’m going to have to insist that you leave for tonight. You can come again starting at 6:30 am tomorrow however.”

Knowing he’d overstayed his welcome, the blond silently agreed, standing out of his seat and grabbing his jacket that was hanging off the back of it. He gave you one last look, inwardly wishing there was more he could do for you at the moment, before taking his leave.

Hizashi was headed back to his car when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, pulling it out almost frantically.

From: Shouta <3

Just got back from the station. I already know what you’re going to say, just tell me when you get home and focus on driving. See you soon.

11:10 pm

It was obvious his partner was equally concerned over the state you were in, especially given how he reacted when they apprehended the thugs trying to take advantage of you. Knowing he’d have to wait so as not to irritate Shouta more than he likely already was, the voice hero put his phone away and traded it for an electronic key, unlocking the sleek, black car and stepping in.

The ride home felt like it took ages, his mind still racing whilst going over the events from that night. Attempting to ease his conscience, Hizashi decided to take the time to figure out what he’d say to his partner. Specifically, how they’d deal with you.

_____

When he finally pulled into the driveway it felt as if he was going mad, still reeling from the thoughts of what could’ve happened if him and Shouta didn’t find you in time.

Pushing those scenarios to the back of his head, the blond stepped out of the car and made his way to the front entrance. He typed in the combination to the keypad, hearing the locking mechanism shift before reaching for the handle.

It was silent in the house as he walked in, closing the door behind him. Looking over to the dining room table, he saw the bouquet of flowers you’d arranged for Shouta that night, beautifully settled into a vase.

Distantly, Hizashi could hear the thumping of footsteps above him. Knowing who they belonged to, he resolved to hang up his jacket before anxiously waiting for his partner in the living room.

On queue, Shouta made his way downstairs, hair still wet from showering. Plopping down on the living room couch with an audible sigh, he started. “I got the information of the guys who attacked (y/n) before I left. They’re behind bars so there’s nothing more we can do.”

The blond was leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, arms crossed while anxiously tapping his foot as if waiting for permission to start his rant.

Expectedly, his partner lazily waved, as if to say ‘get it over with.’ In truth, he knew what Hizashi was going to say, and he agreed, but the fact of the matter was that his partner always ended up being overzealous with his passions. The only thing that mattered right now was working out a way to properly deal with both of their concerns.

“Y’know when ya told me how tired the poor thing looked after coming home last week from the shop, I thought you meant like how you look after patrolling all night.”

Shouta disregarded the insult, knowing full well how he appeared sometimes after doing so.

“But this is just―she fucking passed out from getting scared, that shit ain’t normal Shou’.”

His counterpart let him calm down for a second before acknowledging the situation. “I know, you think it doesn’t bother me just as much?” He leaned back into the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. “I didn’t think it was this bad. But it could honestly just be a medical problem. Chronic fatigue, severe anxiety...or something like that.”

The blond lightly shook his head. “Maybe, it’s just… I don’t know babe, something seems off to me. And I know you’re thinking it’s me overreacting again, but would ya just hear me out?”

The frustration in the air was palpable, neither being able to settle on a flimsy excuse. “No, you’re not overreacting. I got the same feeling, we just can’t jump to conclusions right now, got it?”

Hizashi’s shoulders slumped in a mixture of relief over the mutual understanding of concern, and defeat for having to hold off on his suspicions.

As if his counterpart knew exactly how the man felt, he continued. “Let’s just wait it out for a bit. Hell, how many people have we seen go through similar things. It’s likely she’ll just have to rest up for a bit. Nothing to worry about.”

The blond sighed, “Sure, whatever―I’m still gonna check up on her tomorrow though, ‘kay?”

“Of course. Now go take a shower, I can smell you from here.” 

The atmosphere became a little less tense, having reached a conclusion.

Hizashi chuckled lightly before walking off in the direction of their bedroom, leaving Shouta to relax in the comfort of a quiet house.

_____

The sound of a steady, electronic beeping was the first thing you could make sense of as your body gradually gained back its senses. It was hard, but you channelled every ounce of energy in your body to open your eyes, albeit halfway, to assess your surroundings.

The first thing you noticed was the warm lighting cast upon a bleak white ceiling above. It felt comforting, serving as assistance to calm the growing worry you felt from not knowing where you were. It was likely late in the evening or perhaps sunrise you concluded.

Moving still proved to be difficult, so instead you opted for momentarily trying to piece together what scattered memories you had. 

Vaguely, you recall going home after your shift, noting the holes in the messy timeline from what you assume was fatigue-induced memory loss. Next was the unforgettable sense of dread you felt after being trapped by two...no, three people? There were a few lines of conversation thrown around by the perpetrators which you couldn’t quite remember the exact contents of, and given the situation maybe that was a good thing. That’s where the encounter ended, and you were left to assume that like the Saturday shift incident you had long ago, you passed out mostly from exhaustion.

With that done you forced yourself to identify the current situation at hand. It seemed judging by the sterile looking ceiling and walls, along with the telltale beeping sounding off to your left, you were in a hospital room.

It also seemed that you were lying on a somewhat stiff bed, blankets covering you from the chest down, the weight of it revealing its presence. Aching for more information, you struggled with the dead weight of your form with a low groan, moving to prop yourself up on your left elbow. 

From this position you could see the heart monitoring device clipped onto your index finger, along with an IV protruding from the top of your hand. Following the tube connected, your eyes landed on a bag of clear fluid hanging on a metal post behind you. The sudden movement catching up to you, a low throbbing formed in the back of your skull, prompting you to hold your head in the hand not secured with medical equipment.

Sighing, you weakly sat up fully in bed and saw that your clothing had been replaced with a hospital gown. You were still so out of it that the quiet sound of a light snoring noise to your right almost went unnoticed. But it didn’t, and you turned your head slowly to the source.

Awkwardly slumped in a cushioned chair to your right was a man, deep in slumber with his head hanging slightly to the side. You assessed his sleep induced state, eyes traveling over his features.

Long black hair hanging loose around his shoulders, mild eye bags, scar under his right eye.

Little by little your memory identified him as the same man who you’d assisted twice now at the floral boutique in which you worked at. What was his name again? It started with an s right? Sh...Shou….God, what was it?

“Shouta! Get up!” A loud voice boomed to your left, causing you to dizzily swerve your head in its direction. Standing in the doorframe of your single patient room was a tall, blond haired man carrying a bouquet of flowers in his right.

Present Mic, you thought, or rather Hizashi, something he made startlingly clear for you to call him.

Jarred awake at the disturbance, the once sleeping man sat up abruptly in his chair, eyes falling on your deeply rigid form.

And what exactly are they doing in your hospital room, much less alone with you while you were sleeping? 

Most likely sensing the uncomfortableness mixed with confusion in your demeanor, Shouta spoke up. “I’m sorry, we don’t mean to alarm you in your state. I take it you’d like an explanation as to how you ended up here.”

Hizashi had found his way to the right side of your bed, not after setting the flowers down on a side table first. You waited a few more seconds, collecting your thoughts before responding.

“Um...yeah. That would be nice I guess.” You ended up croaking out the response from the dryness and lack of recent speaking.

The voice hero sat down on the edge of the bed, a small but warm smile on his face almost as if to ease your nerves. “Well songbird, your lucky Shouta and I found ya when we did last night. You’d gone and passed out while some nasty ol’ guys tried to attack you.” 

There was a pause before his counterpart continued, giving you a moment to let the new information sink in. “We decided to go on patrol together for a few hours after leaving your shop. Our sources mentioned some criminal behaviour around the area you were in, so naturally we went there first.”

With these crucial bits of information revealed, you picked at your memories once again. Vaguely, the sounds of what you now presume to be fighting were the last things you can recall.

“And thank god we did. Ya must have been so frazzled that the scare put you to sleep. Can’t even begin to imagine what would’ve happened if you were alone.” Hizashi’s point didn’t make you feel better, but he was right, last night was a combination of your worst qualities happening all at once.

You must have visibly shuddered at that statement too, mind wandering to the plethora of possibilities those men could have gotten up to. “But nothing more happened, I can assure you. ‘Zashi and I dealt with the guys and called the police to pick them up. We were worried about your condition so he carried you to his car and drove you to the hospital before an ambulance arrived to save time, I stayed to wait for backup. You’ve been asleep since.”

Silently, you noted the reduced throbbing in your head, figuring the impact of your skull crashing into the pavement was to blame. And then it dawned on you, You’ve been here long enough to be changed into a gown and given an IV?

“Ah...exactly how long have I been asleep?” Your voice was shaky, weak even from just having woken up and still feeling the ache of fatigue.

Shouta decided to relay this piece of news, using a calm tone in an attempt to not alarm you. “The attack happened last night at around 9:15, it’s roughly 6:30 in the evening right now so you’ve been asleep for almost a whole day.” 

Oh...well that’s definitely cause for concern. On the bright side it’s a new record! But, if that’s the case then how long have they been waiting for you to wake up…

If it was a long time then you’d feel bad for ruining their Friday night, and all of their Saturday. This realization alone was enough to give a skip in your heartbeat.

“I stayed with ya for a bit while Shou cleared some stuff up with the police, but I ended up gettin’ kicked out not too long after by the nurses cause of visitor hours being done and all that. We both came to check on you this morning and he’s stayed here since then. I just got ‘ere to switch shifts but whaddya know, our sunshine was up ‘n awake.” 

Great...you thought, so you had ruined their day. You’d have to deal with making up for that later once you got out of this place, but for now...wait, our sunshine?

...Okay, just ignore it (y/n), he did save your life after all so a little shameless endearment can’t hurt, right?

“I’m really sorry for taking up so much of your time. You don’t have to stay any longer, I’m sure you guys are pretty busy.” You had no reason not to send them away, feeling horrible for making the two think they had to look after you. In addition to that, you barely knew the men outside of what kind of flowers they liked, so the unfamiliar circumstances were a little unsettling.

You could hear Shouta sigh at your dismissive response, to which you thought he was relieved to finally be sent home.

“If we were concerned about wasting our time we would have left a long time ago. We’re here because we want to be, not because we have to.”

Strangely, that didn’t make you feel any better. “Still, I feel bad for keeping you…”

There was a brief silence in the room, and if you weren’t currently hanging your head in shame then maybe you would’ve seen the subtle but conspiring looks exchanged between the two men.

The blond was the first to break the silence, something he seemed to be good at. “Well...if you’re feelin’ that bad there’s certainly a way to repay us.”

Your head perked up at the proposition, anxiety settling due to not knowing exactly what this repayment could entail. 

Thankfully, Hizashi didn’t seem to want to watch you squirm with anticipation. “Why don’t ya stop by our place once you get out of here. Shouta and I’d love the extra company.”

His counterpart continued after a moment. “We always end up making more food than we need for dinner, the accommodation for one night would be no trouble.”

Naturally, the prospect of being asked to spend more time with these men after you’d already been such a burden was unexpected. You’d think after all this time it would only be normal to send you on your way. Yet, here they were, continuing to leave you stunned at their actions over and over again.

If this is what it takes to appease them, then so be it. Surely you can handle having dinner with them, right?

The two waited patiently for your response. It took a second, but you managed to gather your thoughts for a comprehensive answer. “I suppose… although I don’t see how this helps me repay you in any way.”

“Nonsense, songbird. Shou’ wouldn’t admit to it, but he’s been a bit worried that you’re not takin’ care of yourself, with all the work ya do. Nothing a good meal can’t fix, ya dig?” Hizashi positively beamed at your acceptance to the request, making it hard to deny him. Especially since, although silently, Shouta wished to see this through as much as him based on the explanation.

You smiled, the reassuring atmosphere easing the tension in your body. “If that’s really what you want then I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

It looked as if the erasure hero was about to speak, but before he could, a knocking on the door stopped him. 

Waiting a moment before entering, a nurse opened the door. “I would’ve appreciated it if you two informed me immediately when she woke up.” She reprimanded the two heroes for their irresponsibility before making her way to the unoccupied side of your bed.

“I need to discuss some matters with the patient, why don’t you head home for the night.” She regarded the two without looking in their direction, instead examining the IV bag and writing something down on a clipboard.

You gave them an apologetic look, clearly they wanted to talk a bit longer than they were being allowed. 

Shouta stood from the armchair, gathering his jacket in his arms with Hizashi following suit. 

“We’ll see ya later, ‘kay sweetheart?” It seemed the blond simply had a habit of dishing out loving nicknames, and at this point you were getting used to it.

The erasure hero continued, “Get some rest, one of us will check up on you tomorrow morning.” 

You managed out a quiet “Okay,” and they were gone before the nurse could scold them for taking up more time.

Finally having the privacy she needed, the nurse regarded your current state. “Okay then, hun. Let’s see how you’re doing.”

_____

The next hour or two was filled with various exams and consultations. You were told exactly what you’d been expecting. Which was basically along the lines of blacking out due to exhaustion combined with hitting the pavement pretty hard. You didn’t bother to mention that the occurrence was most likely also slightly induced by the sudden panic attack, figuring that it wasn’t quite as important.

At the end of the day you were told that in light of the situation and your poor health, it was necessary that you’d have to remain in the hospital for another day at least. After that it was a matter of judging whether your condition had improved.

You were brought dinner, barely regarding the dull taste as your hungered state simply couldn’t care less. Frankly, the after effects of the prolonged fatigue were still causing you to feel intensely drowsy, and so the rest of the night happened in a blur.

The next thing you knew, you’d settled back down to into your bed, ready to accept another long slumber.

End of Part 2

_____

taglist: @tjhonoluluprezstitch626

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable Ch 28: Memoriam (S4E7)

Warnings: mentions of murder and sexual assault to children, discussion of nightmares

Ch 27 | Ch 29

~ ~ ~

“I had another nightmare,” was the first thing Spencer said when Lydia answered his call the next morning.

They’d had a discussion the night before about what was going on. As Spencer had put it, ‘it didn’t seem like that much of a deal until it affected his work’. Lydia was one to talk about not communicating, so she listened quietly and told him they could try to sort it out more when he got back. He told her he was staying with his mom for that night, which was honestly nice for her to hear. Lydia understood Spencer’s mixed feelings about visiting his mother, so she was glad he was going to get some time that was peaceful.

But now, he was calling her at 5 AM Vegas time, likely from his mom’s room in the hospital. Whatever was going on could not be put off until he got back. “What happened?”

“Same basement, same washer, same shoes and pants, everything. But there was someone standing over the body this time.”

“And did you recognize them?”

There was hesitance on the line. Fear felt like it was a string between their cellphones.

“Yeah, I… Lydia, I think my dad killed Riley Jenkins.”

Fuck. “Spencer, are you…” She cut herself off. Of course he wasn’t sure. But he wouldn’t have told her if he wasn’t fairly suspicious too. “What makes you think so?”

“He was standing over Riley’s body! Something happened to make my mind show me this. My subconscious is trying to tell me something!”

“Okay… That’s okay. How do we fix this?”

“I need to stay in Las Vegas. I just… I have to figure this out.”

“I’ll grab the next flight out,” Lydia replied, matter-of-factly.

“Lydia, you have class-”

“You haven’t spoken to your father in 17 years and you’re going to accuse him of sexually assaulting and stabbing a child? No, sir. Not alone you won’t. My classes will deal. They always do.”

“What if I don’t figure this out? I can’t call you away for some pointless endeavor-”

“Spencer, stop. I’m coming. This is just like any other case. We can’t guarantee we’ll solve it. But isn’t the potential of bringing a murderer to justice worth it?”

“I… Are you sure?”

“I’ll be there soon, love.”

“...thank you.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia rushed through the airport and hopped into a cab, heading straight for the hotel. She was crazy worried about Reid. There was no way to process the idea of someone you love being a murderer. She hoped it wasn’t true, but she didn’t know what would be easier for Spencer to accept. He tried to play it off, but Lydia knew he harbored an anger for the man. It could cloud his judgement.

She gave the hotel room door a solid knock, hoping Spencer would be back from the police department by now to let her in. He had warned her he was going to pick up as much information on the Riley Jenkins case that morning and meet her at his room.

“Hey,” he breathed, upon seeing her face on the other side of the door.

“Hey. Where do we start?” she began stepping inside with him and stopping short to see other people inside. “Rossi, Morgan. I thought you two would be on your way back to DC by now?”

“We didn’t want pretty boy to have to deal with this alone. But it looks like he was already on top of that.”

She gave Morgan a wide smile. “This isn’t exactly my forte. I’m mostly emotional support, so any help Spence can get would be great.”

“You aren’t just emotional support,” Spencer said, already opening the manilla folders he’d collected from the station. “I have a very important job for you.”

“Which is?”

“Interviewing the suspect, of course.”

~ ~ ~

“Riley was six at the time. His father, Lou Jenkins, was supposed to pick him up from T-Ball practice at four. But he got delayed at work, prompting Riley to walk three blocks home. When his mother got home in the early evening, she found him dead in the basement.”

“This sounds like the opening to a word problem,” Lydia muttered, just low enough that Spencer couldn’t hear it.

“So, the offender came to the house after the boy arrived home,” Rossi said.

“Or picked him up on the way there.”

“Coaxes Riley into the basement,” Morgan continued, “when he sexually assaults him.”

“The boy's mouth was taped shut,” Rossi added.

“Symbolic. The unsub fears Riley will talk, panics, weighs his options…”

“Decides to make certain he’ll never talk,” Morgan finished.

Spencer nodded.

Riley had been stabbed 9 times according to the file Lydia had in front of her. The knife belonged to the family’s fishing gear, which was conveniently in the basement.

“So,” Spencer began again, “the unsub’s a white male in his late 20s to early 30s.”

“Means we’re looking for a man in his 50s.”

Morgan confirmed their speculations. “He likely knew the boy. Maybe been to his house.”

“Neighbor,” Rossi suggested.

Lydia had been quiet this whole time. Profiling wasn’t something you picked up just by watching. The theory behind it was complex. But Spencer, at least… Spencer, she knew.

“Spence, what is it?”

His eyebrows were knit together with concentration, flipping between two pages in his hands. Rossi and Morgan looked up from their own files and noticed how stressed he looked.

“My family lived less than a half mile from the Jenkins’,” he admitted.

“You think your dad knew the boy?”

Spencer glanced at Rossi, then began rubbing his temples in thought. “I don’t know. My memory’s lack of recall just reinforces how little I knew about him.”

“Reid, I don’t need to tell you that this signature was need-based and sexual in nature. The man we’re looking for is a pedophile.” With those words, the older man leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “So, I’ll ask you again. Are you sure you want to go down this road?”

Ignorance is bliss, as the saying goes. Learning your father was a pedophile might unlock some memories that Spencer’s subconscious was trying desperately to hide from him. Most people wouldn’t want to remember that.

But Spencer was Spencer. Lydia couldn’t be one to fault him for that. She’d be desperate to know the same. But then again, she was well aware that she wasn’t the gold standard for self care. So his determination, while not shocking, was disappointing.

…also a part of her was just praying that she wouldn’t have to come head to head with Spencer’s dad.

~ ~ ~

“What did you get, Morgan?” Rossi asked as he picked up the phone. He and Lydia were on their way back from the police station after thoroughly questioning the lead detective on the case. Sadly, they didn’t get much. He was basically recounting what they’d read in the case file.

Morgan, on the other hand, had gone with Spencer to visit his mom and Riley Jenkins’s father. “William Reid works at a law firm in Summerlin. Meet us there.”

“We’re ready to confront him?” Lydia said from the driver’s seat.

“Riley was on the Little League team that William coached. So far, he fits the profile.”

“What did Mr. Jenkins say?”

“He doesn’t think it was him.”

“Thanks, Morgan,” Rossi finished.

As they pulled up to their next red light, Lydia dropped her head onto the steering wheel.

“You seem excited… Green light.”

She sent Rossi a glare and kept driving. “I know how this looks for him. He’s far too emotionally invested. But Spence is brilliant. I don’t doubt that something happened. But then again, if he’s wrong, his father’s first impression of me will be me accusing him of being a pedophile.”

“Do you honestly care what William Reid thinks of you?”

She considered it for a moment. “No… I don’t think so. But what’s ‘too far’ in a situation like this?”

“I think the best you can do for Reid today is be on his side and keep him grounded. He might find out a lot about himself that he doesn’t want to know.”

Lydia nodded, pulling onto the 95. “I’ll always be on his side.”

~ ~ ~

“Can I help you?” the receptionist on Mr. Reid’s floor asked as the four of them entered the office.

“Yeah…” Spencer began, but immediately the rest of his response died in his throat.

It scared Lydia to watch him. His tongue darted around his bottom lip and his eyes dropped to the carpet, trying to find the words. There was no way he was ready to have a civil conversation with his father. Lydia reached down and grabbed his hand to reassure him, but it didn’t look like he felt it, his mouth still open to express his silence.

Rossi took over for him. “We’d like to speak with William Reid.”

“Is he expecting you?” The woman took a moment to tear her eyes from Spence’s unsure face.

Rossi flashed his badge at her. “I don’t think so.”

“He’s in a meeting right now. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll tell him you’re here.”

Rossi nodded and she walked off, leaving the four of them in a line in front of the main desk.

“You okay?” Morgan asked quietly.

Spencer looked at him with wide eyes and Lydia could hear his uneven breaths. “Yeah… No-- Yeah-- I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

His hand fell out of hers as he scurried down one of the hallways and out of sight.

“Well, shit,” Lydia mumbled.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Morgan admitted.

Rossi shrugged. “Seventeen years is a long time to go between visits.”

“Not long enough. The kid’s still angry.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”

“Are you going to be able to run point on this?” Morgan turned on Lydia.

“One of us has got to be level-headed,” she said, not turning away from where Spencer disappeared. “I think I can manage it for a day.”

“You from the FBI?” a new voice said, catching all of their attention.

William Reid was a gangly man, like his son, with a pointed nose. Lydia opened her mouth first, wanting to assert control as soon as possible. “Yes, sir. Mr. Reid, I’m Lydia Ambers and these are agents Rossi and Morgan.”

Rossi showed off his badge again, being the only person to have it on hand.

“This wouldn’t be about the city council investigation, would it?” he joked.

“No, this is a personal matter, sir,” she replied, not letting herself hesitate for a minute. “It concerns your son.”

“My son?” His face faltered. “Did something happen?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Spencer sounded winded as he rounded the corner and joined them once again. Lydia stared him down, trying to silently ask if he was okay, but his eyes never left his father. “Hello, dad.”

~ ~ ~

William pulled them into his office to have a private discussion. Lydia immediately took the seat opposite him. As she suspected, Spencer didn’t want to sit, so Rossi sat beside her and Morgan hovered behind them.

“You don’t look like me anymore,” William started, looking at his son to his left. “You used to. Everybody said so.”

“They say some people look like their dogs, too. It’s attributed to prolonged mutual exposure. Elderly couples, also. They unconsciously mimic the expressions of people they’ve been around their whole life. So it kind of-- kind of makes sense that I wouldn’t really look like you. I haven’t seen you in twenty years.”

That shut him up. Clearly he felt guilty for ignoring his son for the majority of his life.

...but not guilty enough to fix it.

“Mr. Reid, we’re currently investigating a case we believe you were involved in many years ago. Do you remember a kid by the name of Riley Jenkins?”

The man looked between his son and Lydia. “Of course.”

“I’ve been having dreams about him for a really long time,” Spencer explained. “But recently, the dream changed. I saw his killer and he was you.”

William raised an eyebrow, then calmly said, “Interesting dream.”

“You don’t seem all that surprised,” Morgan noted.

“I stopped being surprised by Spencer’s mind a long time ago.” He tried once more to keep the air light, but Lydia could see the nervousness in his features. At least, he knew where this was going.

“Mr. Reid, you are now on the suspect list for the death of Riley Jenkins.”

“I’m sorry?” he demanded.

“After Spencer looked into his dream, he got the perspective of some uninvolved parties, who agree that you fit parts of the suspect’s profile. It is, as you know, our job to investigate all reasonable theories.”

“You’re not actually saying you think I killed Riley Jenkins?”

“We didn’t say that,” Spencer responded.

“Good, ‘cause that’s absurd.”

“We’d just like permission to look through your computer,” Morgan continued. “Access your records.”

“And what would you be looking for exactly?” Lydia waited for one of her coworkers to answer, but none of them did. “You want access to my files?” His eyes locked onto Spencer’s. “Get a warrant.”

~ ~ ~

“We can’t get a warrant,” Spencer told Garcia as he and Lydia walked back to his hotel room. “We have to go under the radar on this one.”

“You want me to hack your father’s network?” Lydia could hear Garcia say over the line. “You sure about this?”

“I really would wish people would stop asking me that.”

He shut his phone quickly and Lydia was about to say something about the others being concerned for him when he opened the door and they both saw a small, flat package in the doorway.

“‘You’re looking at the wrong guy,’” Spencer read off the front of the folder.

Inside was a file on a man named Gary Brendan Michaels.

“I’ll tell Morgan and Rossi to meet us in the lobby again,” Lydia told him.

~ ~ ~

“Was the envelope dropped off at the front desk first?” Rossi asked as he and Morgan surveyed the mugshots in front of them.

“Nope, it went straight to my room.”

“So they knew what room you were in.”

“I do have to admit, the timing of this is a little suspicious,” Derek stated.

“Yeah. An hour after I see my father, we’re handed another suspect?”

“You think you knew this guy?”

Spencer had told her that he could have sworn this man had played chess with him as a child, but he seemed hesitant to admit it to Rossi. “I don’t know. I-I think so, but I’m not sure. I- No- I don’t know.”

“Exposed himself to a minor. That’s a precursor to molestation.”

“And murder,” Morgan agreed. “We should take a closer look at this guy.”

Seconds later, Derek’s phone went off and he reached down and put it on speaker.

“Yeah, talk to me, baby girl.”

“I’m not interrupting boy time at Crazy Horse Too, am I?”

“I’m right here, Garcia,” Lydia announced.

“Sweetheart! No one told me you were headed to Vegas.”

“Well, it wasn’t for the strip clubs, I can tell you that.”

Lydia could hear the smile in Garcia’s voice as she moved on. “Reid, we’ve been all up in your father’s business.”

“What did you find?” he asked, softly. Lydia would have reached out to hold his hand again, but he instinctively crossed his arms.

“Well, let me tell you first what I did not find. No kiddie porn, no memberships to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history.”

“What about his finances?”

The voice that answered belonged to Hotch. “We went back ten years. No questionable transactions that we can find.”

“Well,” Prentiss interrupted, “he did buy a ticket to see Celine Dion six months ago, but I think we could overlook that.”

“How many people can you fit into your batcave, Garcia?” Lydia joked.

“Just the two, Sugar.”

“He’s smart,” Spencer said, pulling them back on track. “Is it possible he kept things under the table?”

“Well, of course,” Hotch argued. “But from what we can tell, Reid, he doesn’t fit the profile.”

“We can tell you other things about him, if you wanna know.”

Spencer nodded, before realizing Emily couldn’t see him. “I’m listening,” he swallowed.

“He’s a workaholic, he actually logs more hours than we do. He makes decent money, but he doesn’t spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid. He doesn’t travel much. He stays away from the casinos. Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat.”

Hotch picked up from there. “He appears to spend most of his free time alone, he goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favorite author is-”

“Isaac Asimov,” Spencer answered for him. “I remember that one.”

“He does have one other major interest,” Garcia continued. “On his home computer, he’s archived, like, a kajillion things on one common subject.”

“What?”

“You, kiddo. He’s got, like, everything that’s been published online. Every article you’ve been quoted in,  pieces you’ve written for behavioral science journals, he even has a copy of your dissertation.”

“He’s keeping tabs on you,” Rossi noted. “That’s saying something.”

“Yeah, that he googled me,” Spencer snapped. “That makes up for everything. I’m gonna get some air.”

Both men looked at Lydia as her boyfriend stormed off into the casino.

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s give him a minute to cool down, shall we?”

“I thought we were giving him good news,” Garcia sighed, disappointed.

“What else can we do?” Hotch asked.

“Look up a name for us, if you would,” Morgan said into his phone. “Gary Brendan Michaels.”

“You like this Gary guy for the Riley murder?”

“Somebody does.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia was lucky that Spencer didn’t exactly blend in with the casino scenery. She made a beeline for the poker games and got a glimpse of his back at a 5-card draw machine. When she got over there, a woman with a martini glass was leaning over his shoulder, talking to him.

Lydia wasn’t the jealous type, seeing as this was Spencer she was dating, so she found it funny that he’d attracted a prostitute in the 5 minutes she’d been gone.

“...if you employ optimal strategy and always draw for the royal flush, you can push those odds to 2%.”

“Hm,” she nodded, intrigued. “Smart and handsome.”

Lydia saw his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, probably just now realizing who he was talking to, so she decided to step in on his behalf. “Sorry, honey. He’s a bit too clueless to be a good target.”

“Lydia!” Spencer exclaimed. The woman looked between them and gracefully walked off to find someone else. “I wasn’t-”

She laughed. “I got you, Spence. We’ve got more important things to worry about. How are you feeling?”

“Something’s wrong,” he argued. “I can’t just ignore the signs my brain is sending me.”

“We’re not ignoring them. But there are so many ways to interpret a dream. Don’t you think our first job should be finding out what happened to Riley? Your dad doesn’t fit the profile of a pedophile, but he could still be involved. I promise you, Spencer, you’re not going crazy. Just keep trusting your gut and we’ll get somewhere.”

A small smile pulled at his lips as he considered this. “I don’t tell you I love you enough.”

“Don’t worry-” She leaned down and gave him a peck on the lips. “-I know.”

“You two are annoyingly perfect for each other,” Derek said, appearing with Rossi. “So, what’s our next move?”

“Getting out of this casino, for one,” Lydia grumbled. “The overpowering smell of smoke is making my head hurt.”

Rossi nodded. “Reminder of all the people victim to cigarettes.”

“You know,” Spencer began, following the rest of the group back to the lobby, “recently, there’s been a lot of success in…”

Lydia raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out what had just grabbed Spencer’s attention. She knew he wouldn’t have stopped his tangent willingly. “What?”

“Hypnosis.”

~ ~ ~

“What did the detective say?” Lydia asked as Spencer hopped back into the car.

“We get 24 hours to question him.”

“And Morgan?” she continued, noticing he had not followed Spence out of the police station.

“He’s talking to Garcia about Gary Michaels.”

Lydia took a breath. “You… didn’t want to learn more about Michaels before taking in your dad?”

“You don’t think I can be objective either,” he huffed.

“You were never going to be able to be objective on this,” she argued. “That’s what we’re here for. To help you keep an open mind.”

“I saw him burning bloody clothes!” Spencer finally shouted.

He’d repeated those same words multiple times after his visit to the hypnotherapist. The woman had warned him that his memory could be distorted by the case, but Spencer was certain this had happened.

“Okay.” Lydia’s voice was much softer now, though she wasn’t sure if it was an attempt to comfort him or if she was genuinely startled by his reaction. “Then I want you to listen to one more thing before we take your father into custody. Watching your father go to prison, even if you are pissed at him, isn’t as cathartic as you think.”

“If he did something, he deserves to be brought to justice,” Spencer snapped, though he was much tamer now.

Lydia was glad to see Morgan climbing into the backseat, seeing as she couldn’t find much to respond to that. “Gary Michaels disappeared soon after the Riley murder. Luckily, we’ve got some DNA that Garcia’s running through ViCAP to see if he’s offended under a different name.”

“Good,” Lydia replied.

Spencer shot her a glare. “Let’s go.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia dressed up slightly to interrogate William Reid. As Morgan had told her, they wanted him on his toes, so she needed to look like a strong authority figure.

...which she wasn’t.

“Mr. Reid, good to see you again.”

“Where’s my son?” he demanded.

“Dr. Reid is busy at the moment. We consider accusing a family member of murder as a conflict of interest.”

“This isn’t an FBI case and the normal rules don’t apply,” he argued. “I want to speak to my son.”

“Mr. Reid, your son has come forward as witness to you burning bloody clothing soon after the Riley murder. Do you deny this event happening?”

“I want council.”

Lydia could feel the word ‘fuck’ burning behind her eyelids. Lawyers getting involved was… difficult to say the least.

Luckily, she didn’t have to deal with that. As she opened her mouth, the door clicked open behind her.

“It’s a simple question,” Spencer said. “How did the blood get on the clothes?”

“I told you, I’m not going to talk without council.”

“If you don’t have anything to hide, you don’t need a lawyer.” Lydia could feel Spencer leaning threateningly above her.

“Spencer, please. I’m not stupid… I’m proud of you, you know that?”

“I’m not stupid either.”

Seeing that she wasn’t getting anywhere, Lydia left him to his questioning and joined Rossi and Morgan behind the glass.

“Good try,” Derek told her. “This is too personal for them, there was no way they weren’t going to confront each other.”

“I just want to help him, Derek.”

“I know, kiddo.”

“Like you said, I do have special talents,” Spencer was saying across the glass. “And one of them is being able to tell when somebody’s hiding something.”

“You’re angry that I left. And you have a right to be.”

“You want to make it up to me? Tell me the truth.”

Lydia knew from his face and his silence that William was considering it. “I didn’t kill that boy… But I know who did.”

“Gary Michaels?”

His demeanor dropped immediately. “How’d you know that?”

“William Reid knows about Michaels?” Lydia murmured.

“So does Detective Hyde,” Rossi informed her. “We’re pretty sure he’s the one who put that file underneath Reid’s door.”

“Great.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “We love a reliable justice system.”

~ ~ ~

“How’s Spencer?”

“We’re on our way back from California,” was all Morgan said. It was possible that Spencer was with him, but Lydia figured Derek just didn’t want to answer the question. “There was a fingerprint on Gary Michaels glasses that didn’t belong to him.”

Hotch had called to let them know that Gary Michaels’s DNA had been identified on a body found 7 years ago just across the state line. He’d been beaten to death with a blunt object. So the boys went to speak to the California detectives. And now Spencer was convinced that his father had murdered Michaels instead of Riley.

“Let me know what they find.”

“We’ll likely be back at the Fountain View before then.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby, then.”

“Oh! And I just got word that JJ has gone into labor.”

Lydia blinked at the news, trying to do some quick math in her head. “Really? She wasn’t due for like… two to three weeks, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah, she was surprised, too. But the whole team is at the hospital.”

“Let’s wrap this up soon then, shall we?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

~ ~ ~

Spencer’s leg bounced at an unbelievably fast rate. Lydia could tell he hadn’t even noticed it.

When Derek’s phone began ringing, he looked at the name, then to Spencer. Last chance to go back. To not know if his father was a murderer.

Spencer chose the truth.

“Yeah, this is Agent Morgan… You did?... You’re 100% certain?... Ok. Thank you.” Spencer stood up, his fingers slipping from Lydia’s grasp, his eyes begging for answers. “We’re going to have to get an arrest warrant.”

Lydia’s heart leapt to her throat. It was a painful feeling. She hoped that Spencer felt vindicated, for his own sake, but there was no way this wouldn’t haunt him for years to come.

“It was a match?”

“Yeah,” Morgan breathed. “But it wasn’t your dad.”

~ ~ ~

Lou Jenkins looked up at her curiously as Lydia entered the interrogation room. Spencer followed him in, but didn’t say anything for a while.

“Mr. Jenkins, I am sorry for your son's death. Such traumatic news cannot be easy to recover from.”

“You didn’t bring me here to talk about my son.”

“I imagine the two situations are related.”

He glared at her. “Get on with it.”

“Did you kill Gary Michaels?” she asked, softly.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He raped and murdered my son.”

“What proof did you have of that claim, Mr. Jenkins?”

“He admitted it to me.”

“When? Did he approach you-?”

“No. No, he admitted it after accusation.”

Lydia swallowed. “Mr. Jenkins,” she hesitated, “you were threatening to kill him. It is possible that he admitted to something he didn’t do out of fear. What made you approach him in the first place?”

“He approached another kid in the neighborhood.”

“How do you know that?”

“I was told by a concerned party.”

“Who? Another parent?”

Lou crossed his arms. “That’s all I’m going to say on the subject.”

Lydia tried to consider his motivations. He was clearly not telling them something. But what was the harm in naming the person who came forward unless they were a party to the murder?

“Who was it?” Spencer demanded before she could speak her own mind.

“I told you, that’s all I’m going to say on the-”

“Who was it?” he tried again, more forcefully.

Lydia looked up at her boyfriend, trying to calm him, but his attention was driven away from the both of them as Detective Hyde walked in. “Agent Reid?”

He spun around, pointing at the man threateningly. “Do not interfere with this interrogation, detective! This is not your case anymore.”

Lydia unconsciously reached forward and put her hand up against Spencer’s back, watching him lose his patience. He was angry. No one would give him what he needed so desperately to know. Until his mother stepped around the detective.

“Spencer, it was me,” she told him nervously.

Lydia leaned forward to see Will Reid standing beside her as well. She’d never seen Spencer’s parents together, and understandably, he was a bit surprised to see it as well. His eyes flitted from them, to the detective, to Lou, to her.

He was overwhelmed. His eyes read to her like a book of the truth that had been haunting him for years. His desperation had been growing. But if only it had been his father, he could have been relieved by the news. He didn’t want to consider his mom a murderer.

Silently, he reached around to grab the palm she had placed on his back, gave it a quick squeeze between both of his hands, and followed his parents out of the room.

~ ~ ~

By the time Lydia had gotten a signed confession from Lou, Spencer had come back. He explained to her his mother’s story. How she’d gone to Lou after she saw the way Gary Michaels was looking at him. How, after identifying Michaels, Lou followed him home and killed him. And how his mother had walked onto the scene and, horrified, slipped in Michaels’s blood.

Lou and William had agreed to keep Diana out of it, if Lou ever got caught. They didn’t want her implicated for something she had no capacity to prevent. And upon learning what had happened, William immediately set to burning Diana’s soiled clothing, a scene that poor Spencer had happened upon, which caused unrest in his mind for many years following.

“I’m so sorry if this is not how you planned this trip to go-”

“Spencer!” she laughed. “We solved the case! That’s all that needed to happen. The family drama I could have done without, yeah? Are you satisfied with your truth?”

He thought about it only momentarily. “Very. It had been weighing on me for quite some time.”

“Good. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to try and get into your dad’s good graces, because we could use a rich family member between us.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but still couldn’t hide his smile as she skipped away towards where his parents were still speaking. 

Morgan, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to throw Spencer a huge ‘I-told-you-so’, approached him, but couldn’t formulate the words before Spencer said something so out of character and… frankly, just exciting, that Derek was stunned into silence.

“I’m going to marry that girl.”

Tags: @kris-stuff​, @wooya1224​, @bispences​, @anotherr-fine-mess​, @eddysocs​

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 48

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It was a cold long ride to Atlas. Cold. And long. I said nothing to the pilot and he said nothing to me. I just sat with my luggage on my lap in the back of the plane. I had nothing but my thoughts to keep me company as I got closer and closer to my home kingdom.

I sat and worried. What if the General didn't let Ruby and the others join Ozpin? My fears weren't as dissuaded as I wanted them to be.

The worst part was I was an overthinker. I over-thought about it the whole way there. It was an eight hour flight, no less. And I had nothing but depressing thoughts to keep me awake and aware.

"Atlas ground control to unidentified vessel. Please identify," came through the radio.

"This is XTR-niner-niner-ought-two. Callsign ought-five-six-six-niner-eight. We've got Weiss Schnee onboard. Requesting permission to land."

"Granted. Did you say Weiss Schnee?"

"Affirmative."

"We roger that XTR. We'll have company waiting for you."

We came in low over the floating city and swept in for a landing near Atlas Academy.

The plane hovered to a stop and descended. With it descended my stomach. I was alone and hundreds of miles from Ruby.

The back of the ship opened. I stood with my things and departed at once.

"Weiss? You're alright." An even voice availed me.

It was my sister surrounded by armed robots and waiting near the airstrip. She was as tall as ever with crystal blue eyes and snow-white hair.

My sister sounded relieved.

"Winter." I acknowledged. "It's good to see you again. I've got a special message for General Ironwood. It's urgent."

"For Ironwood?" She asked. "What could you possibly need to talk to him about? Weiss the general is a busy man-"

"It's about the maidens. And the relics. He'll make time for it. I am sure," I hedged a working bet. My sister was in a position to know about Ozpin's secrets. I was willing to bet that she did, now that I knew myself.

The only beings within earshot were machines and they'd never tattle on us to anyone. Winter's eyes widened with something like shock.

"Oh. Then you must come with me immediately." She led the way into the academy. "How do you know about the relics Weiss? And the maidens?"

"Ozpin told me. But like I said I have to talk to Ironwood. I have a message for him. It's the only reason I took the ship ride here."

She swiped a key card on one of the doors and led me all the way to the headmaster's office. I'd been there before. I knew the way. It was back from when I considered Atlas Academy as an alternative to Beacon and I was given a tour of the place.

"General, my sister says she has an urgent message for you. It's why she came. It's about the relics and maidens."

The general turned to look at me. He looked as I remembered. Maybe a bit more grey hair. The stress of Beacon afflicted him, giving him a bit of Marie Antoinette syndrome. He was tall and half metal with a long sleeve over his metal side.

He was sharply dressed as I'd ever seen him. His arms were crossed behind his back, looking crisp.

"I'm supposed to tell you the 'king has castled.'" I told him. His face shifted. Growing at once more interested from confused.

"What? Where?" He demanded.

"Back in Argus with Qrow."

"Ozpin and Qrow…" he murmured. "I'll send a ship there immediately. What's the status of the relic of knowledge?"

"We don't know. We think Salem has it," I answered. "Leonardo Lionheart turned on us. He betrayed Ozpin to Salem."

"That's terrible news." The general steepled his fingers.

"The relic here is safe though, isn't it? Ozpin was worried about this one next."

"It's secure." He said so quietly I had to strain to hear him. "What about the spring maiden?"

"She fell. Cinder Fall, the new fall maiden became the new spring maiden. She's very powerful now."

"That's even worse news."

"Yes… sir, about my friends with Ozpin… will you allow them into the country?"

"They know about the relics and maidens as well?"

I nodded crisply. I felt almost like I was a young girl talking to my father. It was frightening.

"Then it can't be helped." He nodded. Lights on his implant flickered. "You did well to bring me this information. We'll see about getting you set up in a room within the academy. You should rest easy, now. I'll handle things from here."

I exhaled a sigh of relief.

"There's more, sir." I began. He'd begun to turn his attention away from me and hesitated. "We were betrayed by a student too. Ozpin suspected he was a sleeper agent. A man named Jaune Arc. I'm not sure if that matters to you but it's something to be aware of. He's the one with the relic of knowledge. We think he's bringing it to Salem. He's very dangerous. I also have the identities of two more of Salem's agents. A Tyrian Callows and Hazel Rainart, I have their fighting styles, weapons, and a description of them both."

"You've been through a great deal…"

"No more than anyone else since Beacon's fall and Black-Out day," I dismissed.

"Even still I had hoped to keep people as young as you out of the conflict. I wasn't so successful myself. You know Penny Polendina."

"It became a necessity. Ozpin was out of options after he died. He's in a body called Oscar now. And yes sir, I know her. She's alive?"

He smiled and nodded. "You can tell Winter about Salem's agents. It's good to hear from Ozpin. I'd been worried. I must arrange for his and Qrow's extraction," he phrased it like a kind of order and I had to resist the urge to give some kind of salute. My own military background having been raised in Atlas at the forefront of my mind.

"And my friends." I interrupted. It was a bit of a sticking point for me, I overcame my desire to salute and intruded anyways.

"Yes, of course," Ironwood agreed. He seemed to sense my anxiety about it. His voice was unusually gentle.

"Come with me Weiss," Winter said. "I'll tell you about the winter maiden and the staff of creation, if that's alright, sir?"

Ironwood dismissed us with a curt nod and Winter snapped off a salute before gently pulling me away.

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Winter led me beneath the school to the vault. There the staff of creation hung and suspended with it was the massive chunk of earth and ice the city floated on top of. "So the staff is what keeps the city floating? I always thought it was dust."

"That's the official story. But Ozpin showed the previous headmaster how to use the staff to levitate the city."

"How's this possible?" I was still tired from the flight but I had energy enough to be amazed at one of the relics in action.

"The staff is an unlimited source of power. Although it's limited to one task at a time. It and it's vault are set up in a circuit with the engines to help the city hover."

"That's amazing. It costs nothing and keeps the city safe. The relic of knowledge was similarly incredible."

I was able to look out and see gondolas on guide wires to the lower city.

"Oh?"

"It allows the user to ask any question of the lamp. Only three questions every one hundred years. We're afraid of what Jaune will do with it."

"Your friend who turned on you?"

"Yes." I breathed. "It's been hard."

"How are you holding up with that knowledge?"

"It's been difficult. My best friend was in love with him. Is in love with him. His betrayal came out of nowhere."

"Are you sure the rest of your friends can be trusted? You were rather insistent that your teammates join us here."

"I trust my teammates with my life."

"As you trusted this Jaune?"

"As Ozpin trusted Leonardo. Mistakes happen," I defended.

"Leonardo was a coward," Winter turned her nose up. "You could smell it on him."

I walked up and pressed a hand against the vault. The staff of creation was a beautiful object. A blue crystal wreathed in gold and mounted on a pillar of bronze, it was gorgeous. I'd only gotten a glimpse at the relic of knowledge but it was similarly intriguing.

"My teammates aren't cowards. And neither was Jaune. He was obsessive. That was his downfall."

"You defend him in this?"

"My partner and I think Salem did something to him." I stepped away from the crystal of the vault.

"Your partner who is in love with him?"

"That's right," I was adamant. "I know it sounds crazy. I know it sounds like an entangled mess of emotions but there are things about it that don't add up. Inconsistencies in his betrayal and personality which make no sense. I believe in her. I believe in him."

"You're right. It does sound like an entangled mess."

I glared at my sister. "Jaune was obsessive and one day he was killing and dying for us and the next he was turncoat."

"Traitorousness is the hardest to wrap our minds around because it often comes from those we least suspect. Betrayal is by its very nature unexpected."

"Maybe. Do you want to hear about Salem's other agents?"

"You've yet to give me a description of Jaune Arc."

"Tall, blonde, and muscular, blue eyes and about six-foot-one, maybe six-foot-two. He uses a broadsword that can turn into a shield with a longsword."

Winter sighed. "Weiss…"

"His semblance is called Limit Breaker. It's a charge which let's him elevate to a form where he is stronger and faster. He can do all manner of things with the charge. Fly, for example. And spend it on an attack or movement."

"Weiss it sounds like you, too, are muddled in this."

"I'm doing alright."

"Are you?"

"I-" I hesitated. "I liked him. As a person. The personality he developed. Who he became. The sacrifices he was willing to make for us. I got comfortable. It took me by surprise. Caught me off guard. He used to fancy me and I always felt like a good judge of character. He changed between Beacon and when I saw him again. I liked what I saw in him."

"And your friend?"

"She's hurting but we can get through it together."

"It's as I said. You're ensnared. You're too close to the issue. You need to look at things dispassionately."

"I don't know if I can do that with this. Could you do it if it was someone you cared about?"

"I have my duty," Winter insisted.

"Easy for you to say now." I sounded tired to my own ears. I didn't believe Winter. Maybe she never let herself get close to someone. It would be easy to do if you never had to try, I suppose. "I thought I'd be able to do it too. Now that it's happened to me it's clear that I can't. I have to stand with my partner."

"You're in pain."

"That's life." I pulled at my ponytail and tightened it.

"I hate seeing you like this. It sounds like you're not letting it go."

"I can't release it that easily. Jaune had a partner who died. He talked about getting revenge for her against the agents of Salem. We even talked about how he wanted to be able to let go for her. I think I understand what he meant now."

"I see. You're unwilling to compromise on this issue."

"I am." I agreed. "If time heals all wounds then I need more time."

"Tell me about the other agents of Salem."

"You already know of Cinder, the spring and fall maiden. She fights with glass and dust woven into her clothes. She's incredibly dangerous. Even before she added the spring maiden's power to her own. Jaune fought her before then. His power made him nearly as lethal."

"We have records of her. You keep coming back to Jaune."

"He's intertwined in my story," I dismissed easily. "Tyrian Callows is a scorpion Faunus. He fights with clawed submachine guns. His aura is purple. I fought him at Haven. His eyes are gold and his hair is brown. Hazel Rainart is eight-foot, maybe taller. He fights with his fist and by infusing himself with dust. He has brown hair and brown eyes."

"Do you know either's semblance."

"When I fought Tyrian I didn't catch it. Ozpin said Hazel's was a pain-numbing agent. It allowed him to infuse himself with more dust than your average person could tolerate."

"You've been through a lot since you left father's estate."

"You have no idea. You mentioned the winter maiden."

"I did."

Winter led me back through the Atlas Academy. We arrived at a medical facility. We passed armed guards, security cameras, and robots. A door slid open before us and she gestured inside. I followed her direction and looked down through what I could only assume was a one-way mirror.

"This is Fria."

She pointed down at a woman in a cot. There was a sink and kitchenette in the room as well as two tubes with cables between them.

"She's the winter maiden." I identified.

"She is. She could pass any day now.  Until that happens I'm the only person she's allowed to see."

"Then Ironwood's chosen you. You'll be the new winter maiden. Cinder will come after you."

"You believe she won't stop at two?"

"She didn't stop at one. Why would she slow down now?"

"I suppose…" Winter mulled that over.

"How long have you known?"

"Since Beacon fell."

"And that doesn't bother you? Ironwood groomed your entire military career just for the purpose of becoming a maiden. Don't you feel like you never had any choice? And you want to lecture me about things getting muddled? Jaune mentioned to me that Ozpin was probably looking at me and my team to be maidens and it set off red flags for me. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. My team and I are ideal candidates. Powerful, talented, and already armed with knowledge."

"It did bother me at first. But the more I thought about it, the more I saw it as a privilege. It's a chance for me to do some real good for Atlas, for Remnant."

"I think you're ensnared by the general. Closing the borders down rather than helping the rest of the world, what is he thinking?"

"I-I'm not sure if I'll be allowed to tell you. There is a greater plan in play, I assure you, Weiss. Things are not as short-sighted as they may seem."

"I should hope not. Ozpin said he was worried for Ironwood next. If Ironwood starts going against Ozpin's orders things will be bad to say the least. Closing the borders is only frustrating things between Atlas and the rest of the world. Ironwood had better have a plan, and it had better be a damn good one."

"I'll see about getting clearance to talk about it with you."

"Thank you."

"I agree with the general's plan. I hope that you will too. Now I must ask what you intend to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're in Atlas. You're a huntress and from the sound of things you're never going back to live under father."

"Never again. No," I said, quiet but sure.

"So what will you do?"

"I'll do what my team and I have been doing. Protecting and serving the people of Remnant."

"How?"

"There's bound to be no shortage of jobs for those of us in the know. The Grimm are always coming. Salem's agents are at the gates at all times. My team and I have seen them. Those real monsters of humanity."

"You won't go back to school?"

"If I went back to school it would only be to teach. And even then…" It wouldn't be anytime soon. I wanted to fight.

"That would be a good career choice for you." Winter smirked.

I nodded. "For now, though, I just don't see it."

"Very well. I'm sure the general will be happy to have you and your team aboard."

"I'm sure he will be. Team RWBY is a force to be reckoned with."

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-WG

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Stress”

I thought about this idea during finals week for obvious reasons. As for some of the other stuff, I am still trying to figure out what I want to do. My motivation likes to come and go at odd moments, so the longer, more complicated stuff that requires research is eluding me at the moment, but I hope you all like it :) 

Humanity was crafted in the fire of adversity. On a planet where everything is stronger, faster, and more dangerous than them, they still manage reign supreme. Looking back at their history, the human came down from the trees and developed primarily on hot, hostile prairies of Africa relying on their small bands of family to keep them safe.

Due to the hostile nature of their planet the human has one of the most remarkable and advanced reactions to stress in the sympathetic response of their body, known as the fight or flight system. In response to say, sight of a predator, the human brain immediately releases stress hormones into the blood activating adrenaline and cortisol production. In states like these humans, run faster, jump higher, react quicker, feel less pain, increase their strength, and recognize more frames per second (described by humans as the world slowing down). Additionally the sympathetic response shuts down all parasympathetic actions, which include digestion, growth, ovulation, sex drive, hunger, and other additional functions.

However, this remarkable stress system, which the humans are renowned for, has one horrible downside….. The human body cannot tell the difference between the stress of a predator attack or the stress of a long-term work environment. The human body reacts to deadlines the same way it evolved to react to the chase on the prairies thousands of years ago. Chronic stress is one of the largest dangers posed to your human companions, and should be taken seriously. Long term effects of stress can results in depressed immune systems, sickness, skin problems, high blood pressure, cardiovascular issues, digestive issues, sexual dysfunction, depression, anxiety etc.

Chronic stress is a human’s worst enemy.

***

“I swear by all nine circles of Dante’s hell that if the assembly refuses to hear me out than we are going to have galaxy wide rioting on our hands, and you know who is going to have to deal with it. Me, yeah that’s right, me, just like every other riot, protest, demonstration and sit-in this side of the sector. Just let them be together if they really want, just get them immunized first, Damn!” Commander Vir marched onto the bridge angrily pulling on his jacket and throwing himself down in the Captain’s chair, “Four hours of sleep last night, four, and I have to tell you I am sick and tired of this shit. LIEUTENANT!”

“Yes, Sir.” She asked hesitantly

“What do we have TODAY? What could have possible gone wrong on this fine morning?” The man snarled sarcastically. Krill glanced at Sunny with a worried expression. This was hardly behavior they had come to expect from their friend.

“Well sir, paperwork, as usual, and then you have a conference with the GA at 9, and a report due to the Fleet Admiral at 10. Captain Kamma and Captain Roll need your opinion on dealing with a Finneri dispute over airspace in the Alpha sector, plus the ship is due for routine maintenance, but there is still a little matter about that Vrul scientist that the GA wants transported back to HQ. If you have the reports, I can send them in now…..” She trailed off.

Commander Vir took a deep breath and rested his forehead against one hand messaging his temples, “I haven’t finished the reports yet, I haven’t had enough time to finish the reports, I was doing more important things than finishing the reports like…. Oh, I don’t know trying to put down riots and prevent luting. I think humanity’s public image is more important than some stupid piece of paper. Kind of hard to get anything done when you are trying to keep the entirety of the GA to stop seeing humans as violent militants.”

“Sir, I can-“

“No, I will have the stupid reports done, just give me an hour.” He stood from his chair, “Walk with me.” The supporting crew barely had time to leap from their seats and follow after the man as he marched out of the room. Usually silent, the prosthetic on his leg whirred with excess power as if aware of the man’s agitation. Sunny followed behind the only one able to keep up without jogging. She held Krill by the hand as he floated behind her. Commander Vir answered rapid fire questions left and right as he marched on down the hall. A marine appeared form one of the side halls.

“Captain,”

“Make it quick, Corporal.” The man fell into a jogging step beside him.

“Uh, yes Commander, there seems to be a problem.” A single green eye turned upon the man and narrowed. The entire crew stiffened a little. Krill hid behind Sunny’s bulk. The entire crew had been on edge for weeks now. All of them begged to whatever deity out there that things would get better for their Commander. The crew, once so laid back, and relaxing now found themselves in an enviornment of stress like a rubber band close to sapping, all caused by a triangular ripple effect coming down from on high. When the Commander wasn’t happy, no one was.

Generally, goofy, friendly, social, and fun, the man had slowly grown, irritable, reclusive, and tense as sarcasm and jokes began to fly right over his head….. Accept for the biter angry kind.

“What NOW.”

“Well, sir, the last armament shipment….. well they got our order wrong. We got only two cases of .223.” The man had to speed up a little to keep up

“Two cases! The F*ck are we supposed to do with that. We needed two Pallets not two cases.”

“Yes sir, I know but-“

“Ahg never mind, I’ll call in to the supply department later.” He coughed once or twice, wiping his mouth before pushing past the marine and into the chow hall marching up to the coffee maker and angrily shoving mug under the nozzle. Another glance was exchanged between Sunny and Krill, the man didn’t drink coffee at least he hadn’t until about a week ago. All around, the breakfast crowd looked up from their meals nervously fiddling with their forks and spoons as they watched.

Cup filled up, the man turned in a circle.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Could it have been the unusual power of the prosthetic, the fact that he turned in the direction of his missing eye, or could it have just been coincidence that his leg knocked against the counter sending a wave of hot liquid over his arm and onto the floor as the cup dropped from his hands. The entire room went silent, which only made the shattering of the glass louder followed by the string of abusive, vulgar curses spilling form the man’s mouth that much more poignant. Sure, he wasn’t opposed to cursing, but THAT was excessive.

He waved his arm hissing in pain. Before growing silent, horribly silent. The entire room was still hands raised halfway to their mouths food dripping form forks. He stood very still shoulders hunched hands clenched into half claws.  From their position, Krill and sunny watched as the man’s slow, even breathing began to speed up, blood rushed up to his face, a vein pulsed in his neck.

The expression that came over the human’s face was one of pure animal rage completely out of place in such a setting. Humans and Drev alike ducked for cover, especially telling when it came to the humans, as the man spun in a circle and violently ripped the machine from the wall and throwing it to the floor. Glass and plastic shattered, but that didn’t seem to be enough. The advanced military prosthetic, sensing his anger, whirred to life powerful hydraulics and pistons crackling to life as he engaged the foot. Metal screeched and screamed as it was crushed. Crewmembers cowered further under their tables as the wreckage was kicked violently into the air. The power of the prosthetic sent it halfway across the room where it smashed into the ground shattering whatever piece of equipment was left.

Then slowly they looked up watching as the man spun in an agitated circle, paced to the right, then to the left before screaming through his teeth and running out of the room leaving a scene of carnage behind him.

***

Krill and Sunny found him three hours later forced to explain to the admiral and the GA of the commander’s absence.

They found him in a service tunnel running the side of the engine room sitting in the red emergency lights on the floor with his legs curled to his chest, and his arms about his dog’s neck. The animal had her head resting on his shoulder tail tucked between her legs as if she knew something was terribly wrong.

Sunny had trouble squirming through the close opening, but eventually hauled her bulk into the small space, “Adam?”

The man didn’t look up but a desperate chuckle broke from his lips cracked and breathless, “Great, just what I needed, for you guys to see me like this…… what did the admiral say? Am I fired?”

Krill scuttled around the side of Sunny squeezing himself past her bulk with a huff, “Commander, why would they fire you. Preposterous, that doesn’t make any sense.”

Sunny managed to make it to her knees and then into a low crouch, “Vir, the Admiral actually said that…. Now maybe you’ll understand because I didn’t and I quote, ‘I’m impressed the boy managed to make it this long, my first breakdown was two weeks after I started, and I nearly ran my car into a tree.”

The dog whimpered as the man lifted his head, throwing it back with a shaky breath, “You don’t have to try and make me feel better Sunny. The damage is done, I messed up, and I lost in in front of the crew like a child, and I can’t help but think about how much of a jackass I’ve been for the last few weeks. I’m garbage at this, I should never have taken the job.”

Krill huffed scuttling down the short hallway and over to the man, “Oh what is it you humans say…… pity party is over. Man up and talk to us, you are being horribly illogical, and that is something I cannot abide. Start from the beginning and tell us what’s wrong so we can fix it. You ARE the commander of this ship and you deserve to be here, so might as well fix the problem while we can.”

Fifteen minute later, Krill had ushered them out of the engine room and back to his infirmary where the Commander now hunched on the edge of one of the beds elbows resting on his knees as he stared down at the floor. Krill bustled around him like krill always did examining his burned arm, if there was a problem, he fixed it. That’s just the way he was, Sunny listened.

He rubbed the sides of his head again, “I’ve just been so….. Stressed, I have so much to do, and I don’t have enough time, everyone is counting on me, and now with the riots…. I just….. my body is falling apart, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat because when I do I get nauseous, my head hurts all the time, I’ve bene sick for like…. I don’t know, a month. Feels like my heart never slows down, and someone has their hand around my chest just…. Squeezing. Plus.” He lifted up his shirt exposing his pale stomach, and the livid red bumps across his stomach raised and strangely discolored, “I broke out in hives yesterday, haven’t done that since I was a kid.”

Krill paused shooting the man a glower, hands resting on his hip equivalent, “And you never thought to, oh I don’t know talk to a DOCTOR because you don’t have one of those just conveniently lying around.”

Vir rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh, “I…. its stress related Krill, there’s nothing you can do medically for me.” Sunny had moved at this point slowly walking over towards her two friends, and before Krill or Vir could say anything, she pulled the man into her arms, all four of them, and hugged him lifting him completely and easily off the ground. He went quiet in surprise and Krill looked up at her in annoyance.

“Hugs are good for humans. Supposed to relieve stress…. I think.” Sunny said. She thought for a moment he would pull away, but after a few seconds he sagged against her read resting against her chest. Krill relented with a sigh and stepped back.

A muffled voice, “What am I supposed to do Sunny?”

Krill tapped one of his feet on the floor, “The way I see it, Commander, there is only one logical course of action.”

***

The crew watched from where they sat or stood around the chow hall, on or around the tables as the man, their Commander, awkwardly shuffled his feet and stared down at the floor, “I…. have to apologize to…. To all of you for my….. Deplorable behavior lately. “He took a deep breath and looked up with clear difficulty, “The way I have been acting is very unprofessional, and the outbursts are just as bad. I know there are no excuses for what I have done, and I take responsibility but I have been under a lot of stress lately, and I am still learning how to deal with it.”

Some members of the crowd nodded along with him, some frowned, but the vast majority gave encouraging smiles. “That’s alright, Commander, we understand.” Someone said from the back followed by a chorus of agreement.

One of the marines stood up, “We forgive you, Commander, and I have one word for you….” He turned to the room and waved his hand in a wide arc over his head, “Delegation.”

“Delegation?” The man questioned

“Yeah.” The marine said, “Like since you’re a boss you can make everyone else do the work for you.”

The commander shook his head, “I no… I couldn’t”

Just then the lieutenant took to her feet, “Just hear him out, sir. He’s right, you’ve been trying to do everything yourself, and it isn’t healthy. There are plenty of things you can outsource. I mean some of the other captains have specialties in certain areas, and you could put them in charge. And here, on the crew, you could appoint someone as the head of a sector, and just have them report in. They can deal with the little stuff and you can do the big stuff. For instance, I’m great at writing, I was an English major before joining the army, so I can write the reports….. and no offence, but you suck ass at writing… sir.”

The crew broke out into laughter, Vir grinned sheepishly, “Alright, maybe you have a point.”

Other members of the crew agreed, “You’re forgetting we’ve had almost as much contact with E.Ts as you, sir. We can deal with some of the little stuff, so you don’t have to worry.”

The commander took a seat on one of the tables facing the crowd, “I just don’t want it to seem like I’m pawning all my work off on others.”

Another crewmember waved the comment off, “Give us some credit, we know you better than that. Besides everyone deserves a little downtime.”

“Yeah a little stress relief is good. Man you need to get some kind of hobby.” The marine who spoke leaned over towards his companion and quietly…. But not to quietly whispered, “Either that, or get laid.”

The comment hadn’t been quiet enough, and a row of marines broke into fits of giggling. Vir flushed bright red trying to ignore the comment, “Alright, first thing’s first, we need to have a meeting, decide how to divide things up. I’m thinking the marines, the bridge crew a -“ A glare from Krill silenced him, “Of course…. We can talk about that tomorrow….. you…. Are all dismissed.”

The crew shifted to their feet. A few of the marines walked past still laughing causing the blush to flare up again. The marine that had spoken shoved him lightly, “You’re such a boy scout, you know that right?” Vir grumbled as he moved past. The marine turned to walk backwards down the hallway, “Come on man, just saying great stress relief. Woman, dude…… alien if you’re into that.”

Vir raised his hands, “Ok, ok, stop, I get it.” More laughter as the marines walked away. He sighed, but was immediately accosted from behind. The floor fell out from under him, and suddenly his only view was blue armor, “F***, Sunny what the hell.”

She shifted him into a more comfortable position over her shoulder, “This is a hostage situation. You will not be released till you get at least eight hours of sleep, there are no other options.”

Vir sighed, “Guess I don’t have much say.”

“Nope.”

Stress is a human’s worst enemy, and it is our job to make sure our humans stay healthy.

[whoacanada]

PART TWO -- Zimbits, Royal!Jack AU

PART TWO -- (Prompt: ROYAL AU + POORLY TIMED CONFESSIONS + ZIMBITS )

Part One Here

They land and pull into a private hangar with more black SUVs, more agents, and, blessedly —

“Jack!”

Bitty nearly trips over his feet getting out of the plane and crashes hard against his boyfriend’s chest.

“Honey?” Bitty points defiantly at the red coat of arms painted on the tail of the jet. “Explain. Now.”

“Bits, I didn’t know anything about this before a few days ago,” Jack apologizes, turning pink. “I swear I wasn’t keeping this from you on purpose.”

“I’m pretty sure Nursey was on the phone with the State Department when we left,” Bitty cautions as they’re waived into another car. “Just so you know what’s coming.”

“We’re aware, sir,” replies another agent Bitty doesn’t recognize. “It’s been handled.”

“Oh really? And my finals?”

“Handled as well.”

Bitty clicks his seatbelt and turns to Jack, who has fallen guiltily quiet beside him.

“You had time to tell everyone else but me?” Bitty huffs, looking out the window as the small motorcade departs, weaving through unfamiliar streets.

“I had nothing to do while you were in flight so I tried to fix as much as I could to make this less stressful.”

Bitty gives up some of his irritation when he feels Jack take his hand.

“I’m still mad at you for sending secret service agents instead of just coming yourself.”

“Lapin, it took an entire country to keep me from you.”

It takes a moment for Bitty’s brain to catch up with his heart because the line is clearly rehearsed but it still makes him swoon.

“Did you come up with that yourself?” Bitty chirps, trying to regain composure. “Which one of these suits prepped that apology for you?”

“Surprisingly, that one came from my brain,” Jack says, flashing a pleased if hesitant smile. “You still mad?”

“Tell me the truth,” Bitty says softly, lacing their fingers. “Then we can discuss how I feel.”

Jack takes a breath and Bitty watches the way the streetlights dance over his tired face.

“This is everything I know . . .”

There isn’t a castle or palace, just a federal building; albeit an old, stately one. And on the fifth floor of that building, Eric Bittle is just ripping into one Robert Zimmermann.

“How are you not king?” Bitty questions. “You’re his father, you made Jack, so how is he the successor?”

“I abdicated in ’75,” Bob explains, taking a glass of water from Alicia. “It was the only way I could play. I changed my name, gave up any rights to any titles or property — and thank God I was half decent on the ice or who knows where I’d have ended up — but the result is that I have no legal claim to the throne.”

“What does this mean for Jack? If you voluntarily abdicated, shouldn’t that remove him from the line of succession?”

“Normally, yes, but there’s no one else of blood left. I didn’t have any siblings, my father was an only child, so Jack has as much a claim as anyone. Now, if Jack ascended, he could reinstate me and step aside, but that’s only if Jack agrees to be crowned in the first place.”

“Did you ever expect this? Did you know?”

“No, and not in the way you think,” Jack is perched on the edge of his chair, hair unkempt and tie loose around his throat. “Papa always called me his little Hockey Prince but I didn’t think he was talking in a literal sense. Who would? Crisse, Bits, I’m not King material.”

“You’re a great leader,” Bitty defends reflexively, though Jack waves off the compliment, standing to pace.

“This wouldn’t be an issue at all if there wasn’t an arcane constitutional stipulation that ownership of all properties and holdings in the name of the ‘Monarchy’ will revert if there’s no natural-born ruler,” Jack rubs his eyes and groans. “No one ever amended the documents so if we don’t step in a good chunk of Canadian land will end up being owned by England again. If ‘I’ don’t step in.”

“Trudeau has called me ‘three’ times today,” Bob adds apologetically, “and I will be god-damned if we lose Banff to the Windsors.”

“It’s not on you, Bobby,” Alicia counters. “You literally gave up your right to be defensive.”

Bitty turns back to Jack, who has stopped to look out the window only to be immediately shooed away by an aide who quickly closes the curtains.

“Jack?”

“All I have to do it take the title long enough to amend a two-hundred-year-old treaty and then we can just dissolve the monarchy,” Jack tugs the knot out of his tie and falls back onto the couch beside his father. “That’s easy enough. Right?”

“You could abdicate as well,” Alicia offers. “Let them keep hunting for another heir. It could take years, or days, this doesn’t have to fall on your shoulders, Jack.”

“I would be the most hated man in Canadian history,” Jack explains, leaning his head to rest on the couch back, staring at the ceiling. “I have to do it.”

“I never wanted you to be in this position,” Bob apologizes vehemently. “I’d never even considered the possibility.”

“What about the Falconers? Can Jack still —” Bitty realizes a hair too late that Alicia is making an aggressive slashing motion across he throat.

“I watched a Knight’s Tale with you at the Haus, right?” Jack laughs sharply. “Remember that scene where the prince is trying to joust and no one will face him?”

“No more hockey,” Bob says, pained.

“Can I talk to Eric in private?” Jack says, lifting his head. “Please?”

The room clears quickly and Jack’s parents follow soon after with parting hugs.

Bitty’s never felt so unsettled in his entire life.

“Jack,” Bitty starts when they’re finally alone. “I don’t understand, where does this leave me? Why am I even here?”

Jack makes a pained sound and tugs Bitty close.

“Bits, you’re not going anywhere — this doesn’t change anything between us.”

“I respectfully disagree, hon.”

“We just can’t do things like we planned,” Jack says sadly, taking Bitty’s hand. “It’s going to be different for a while. Harder.”

“Alright,” Bitty breathes, trying to keep himself together. “I understand.”

Bitty pulls off his necklace, his ring, chest aching with the effort, and hands it to a bewildered Jack.

“What is this? What are you doing?”

“It’s okay, I get it,” Bitty can’t find the courage to look up from his feet, he knows he’ll just start crying. “It’s one thing for you to be the first out hockey player, this is something else entirely.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack questions, voice cracking. “Are you. . .  breaking up with me?”

There’s a brief rush of anger that Bitty tamps down when he finds Jack looking down at him with an expression of abject devastation.

“You’re not breaking up with me?” Bitty clarifies, trying his damnedest to figure out what is going on.

“What? No! Crisse, I’m not breaking up with you!” Jack hands back the ring and pulls Bitty toward him. “Bits, I still want to marry you.”

“It's just…I thought…you’re going to be a King now, for real, or a Prince — can we even get married?”

“That's why Papa wanted you here for the announcement,” Jack takes his hands. “You may have to give up your US citizenship but if we’re legally married before I take the throne you’ll have rights, a title.”

Bitty balks for more than a few reasons, not the least of which was he had convinced himself their relationship was over not a minute prior.

“Honey, I can’t even keep the boys in line half the time, I can’t rule a foreign country.”

”That’s not what —“ Jack drops his head and laughs. “You don’t have to do anything. You remember telling me how when you were five you were obsessed with The Little Mermaid, and your parents told everyone you wanted to be Prince Eric? Then you realized years later that it was only because you wanted to fall in love with a handsome prince? Now both of those things can happen. Papa’s working out the specifics with some of the historians but you'd get a title. Only if we’re married, though.”

“How dare you use that against me,” Bitty tries to argue, though he really isn’t that upset when Jack steals a quick kiss.

“This is a trick,” Bitty whispers before Jack kisses him again. “A deplorable,” kiss, “terrible,” kiss, “shotgun wedding of a trick.”

“As it stands, your official designation would be ‘Prince Consort’,” Jack teases, nipping at Bitty’s jaw. “But unofficially, you’d be the Lord of my Heart.”

Bitty can’t fight the laugh that bubbles in his throat.

“Was that too much? I went too far.”

“Shut up, Jack,” Bitty breathes, leaning into the contact as Jack tries to worm a hand under his shirt to tickle his stomach. “Mama is going to murder you if we get married like this.”

“I have guards, now,” Jack counters. “I’d like to see her try. Besides, they’re already on their way. MooMaw, too.”

Bitty stills, thinking through the logistics of getting his family to move so quickly.

“How much time did you have?”

“Well, I am going to be a King,” Jack chirps, burying his face against Bitty neck. “Need to make sure my Prince is taken care of.”

“Need to make sure your ‘Prince’ is even a Prince,” Bitty murmurs.

“Will you marry me?” Jack asks softly, still hiding his face against Bitty’s neck. “Officially? Probably in a room downstairs with more government officials present than family. It won’t be romantic but —“

“If I divorce you later do I get half of Canada?” Bitty interrupts, lacing his fingers in Jack’s hair to tug at his scalp lightly. “You obviously would keep Quebec but I really think I want Ontario.”

Jack stills and Bitty doesn’t know what reaction he’s actually going to get before Jack replies, “Of course, that should go without saying. Though do you think we should live so close if we separated on bad terms?”

Bitty presses a kiss to Jack’s hairline, distracting him.

“Oh, honey, of course I’ll marry you. Even if it’s only a huge distraction so you can dismantle an outdated Canadian institution and save your national parks.”

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

Bitty nudges Jack’s face up and plants a kiss square on his lips.

“I’m completely exhausted,” he whispers. “I’m exhausted and my boyfriend turned fiancee is long-lost royalty. I haven’t even finished school and I’m going to be a Prince. I don’t have the energy to freak out about this right now. First, let’s get my parents here, and the priest, then we can discuss crippling panic attacks and life changes we’re not prepared for.”

“Crisse, I love you,” Jack pulls himself up and crushes Bitty in a bear hug. “And if it helps at all, I think I might be able to get Beyoncé to attend the coronation.”

Bitty smiles at the thought.

“Oh, honey, one step at a time. You’re the King of Canada. Not god.”