#I just rarely go through ao3 anymore because I’m worried I’ll click on a big no that didn’t tag it

[zappedbyzabka]

Just a notice that you are allowed and encouraged to send fics—even your own-to me if you think I’ll like them or you just want someone to read.

[readerstories]

Tie Reveal - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

What is it with me and turning short and sweet ideas into long one shots? Yeah so anyway, enjoy (AO3)

Warnings/tags: relationship rreveal, fluff and humor, light angst

Wordcount: 2837

Summary: You come into work wearing the wrong tie

You hate rushing in the morning, preferring to start your day in a calm and relaxed manner. That’s not on the table for today however, as you and Aaron both rush to get dressed.

“You’re going to be late.” You say as you button your shirt, glad you had had the forethought to grab on from your to go bag, as not wake any suspicion or teasing from the team. Aaron glances at the clock as he puts his shoes on.

“It’s still before the time you usually get in.”

“Yeah, but not for you.” You pick up your ties from the floor, giving Aaron’s to him. You’re quick to put yours on, Aaron mirroring you.

“I’ll just say that I got a flat tire.” You nod, stealing a quick kiss from him as you grab your jacket on the way out.

“Okay, see you at work!” You’re out the door before he can respond, making your way quickly down, not even bothering with the elevator in your haste to get to your car.

—-

You make it to work on time, only a few minutes later than usual, but that can be blamed on the fresh coffee in your hand from the coffee shop down the street.

As the elevator plings to announce your arrival on the right floor, you’re met by Garcia, Reid, and Morgan standing right outside, groaning as they spot you.

“Well, good morning to you guys too.” You say with a confused look at them all as you step out.

“It’s not you, we’re just just waiting for Hotch.” Garcia explains and you raise a brow, faking confusion.

“Hotch? Isn’t he here already?”

“No, so I got worried, so I checked his phone and it was pinging on the road just outside his apartment building, which is weird cause he’s normally the first one here-”

“Are you even supposed or allowed to do that outside of a case or emergency?” Garcia hesitates, and you huff and shake your head at them.

“Well, I’m going to go and start work, like you all should.” You leave the team as they go back to watching the elevator doors, quickly shooting off a text to Hotch to let him know that the flat tire excuse won’t work.

A few minutes later you hear a happy Garcia shout Hotch’s name and seconds later he comes in through the glass doors, followed by Garcia, Reid, and Morgan.

“Guys, I’m fine, I just slept trough my alarm this morning.”

“But you never do that.” Garcia responds, hot on his heels.

“So what’s her name?” Morgan quips, Hotch stops in his tracks to give him a withering glare before resuming his path to his office.

“Ohhh, lover boy!” Morgan teases at Hotch’s back.

“Remember we got a briefing in ten minutes sir!” Garcia yells after him before the door to his office is closed behind him. You hide your smile behind your coffee, trying not to bring much attention to yourself. Garcia leaves to prepare a few last things for the briefing, but Reid and Morgan linger next to your desk, still standing.

“Do you really think that’s what made him late?” Reid asks.

“Come on, that man never misses anything and sleeps light, and Jack is away for a week, so what else could it be?” Morgan glances at you. “What do you think?” You take a sip of your coffee, pretending to think.

“Maybe, or maybe he is telling the truth. The man is only human, and with the amount of hours he spends in the office he might actually just have slept trough his alarm.” Morgan nods, but doesn’t seem convinced.

You all make your way into the meeting room. You sit down in the chair next to a standing Garcia as you often do, Reid, Morgan, JJ, and Rossi joining you around the table, Hotch striding in as usual a few minutes later.

“Garcia, please begin.” He stays on his feet, ready to go as soon as he can.

“Look to the screen my mighty crime fighters, because today you’re goi-”

“You’ve switched ties.” Reid cuts Garcia off mid-sentence, making everyone look at Reid, wondering what in the world he is talking about. He points at you.

“You and Hotch, you’ve switched.” Both of you look down, then at each other as the team looks between the two of you. Shit, he’s right.

“When you came in I saw your tie was the same as Hotch wore yesterday, a grey tie with a Gucci pattern. I just thought you had bought the same one, since you both have a similar taste in ties, but Hotch got the same as you wore yesterday, a grey tie with stripes, which still has the small coffee stain from when you spilled some yesterday.” Hotch frowns as lifts up the tie to inspect it, and yes, there’s indeed a small, barely noticeable speck of coffee about halfway up the tie he is wearing. No one says anything for a few seconds, you yourself have turned into a statue, neutral expression on your face. Hotch is much the same, everyone else looking between you two. Garcia is the first one to break the silence, squealing with glee.

“Omg, omg, guys!” She yells as she hugs you from behind, the angle a little awkward with how she leaning over your sitting form. You’re not stone anymore, but you don’t return the hug before she lets you go. Morgan and JJ are both grinning, Rossi is looking at Hotch with smile, Reid is trying not to do the same at you while you glare daggers at him. Hotch sighs.

“Garcia...” His tone is chastising, reminding everyone that there is something else to focus on, which seems to snap her back to work mode. Sort of.

“Right, right, case, lets just brush past that revelation about two of my best friends, so, uhhh, where were we? Or right! Today you’re going to-” She begins to explain the case, both you and Hotch get a few more glances before everyone turns their focus on the case.

----

On the jet you think you’re in the clear, until Rossie settles in the seat next to you. Which is odd, because you’re the only two on the jet so far, and he usually doesn’t sit next to you.

“So you and Hotch huh?” You pretend to read over the case files in front of you, and Rossi chuckles.

“You know, none of us expected a thing. Well done on hiding it from a group of profilers I must say.”

“Rossi, there’s nothing-”

“There’s nothing?” He’s grinning, clearly teasing as he looks down to your tie and taps it with a finger. “Something tells me otherwise.” You sigh, but are saved from answering by the rest of the team joining you on the jet. Everybody buckles down for take off, and not long after you’re in the air, and then all the attention is on the case.

For a little while at least.

You can tell they want to talk about it, but the case keeps everyone occupied, so there’s nothing else before JJ comes back from the hotel with the room cards. Everyone is spread around doing different tasks, so she finds you alone in the conference room the team had been given. You’re reading trough the victims files for some more specifics on victimology when she places a keycard on the table in front of you. You look up, startled as you hadn’t even noticed her entering the room.

“You’ve seen Hotch?” She asks and you furrow a brow.

“I think he’s talking to the police chief in his office, why?”

“His key card, but you can just give it to him when you see him, since you’re sharing a room.”

“I thought we were past the budget cuts-”

“Oh we are, but Garcia made some changes to the booking after this mornings briefing sooo....” JJ grins and you sigh, rubbing your forehead. There’s silence and no movement for a few seconds, then there’s a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, you know we will always support you guys right?” You sigh heavily, resting your own hand on top of JJ’s, looking up at her.

“I know, it’s just... It wasn’t revealed in the best way.” She grimaces.

“Yeah.” She looks uncertain how to respond, but seems to go for light, which you are grateful for. “But I’m surprised none of us caught on until then, it has been going on for at least a couple of months right?” You try to hide your grin as you pretend to go back to reading the files.

“Well, I’m not a ‘kiss and tell’ kinda guy, but it’s a bit more than a couple months.” JJ laughs and pats your shoulder before leaving the room.

You find Hotch not long after, and when you tell him the whole situation around the shared room, he sighs too, but mostly in a ‘oh what can you do’ kind of way, seemingly mostly resigned to everyone knowing now.

Even with sharing the same room and not needing to hide anything from the team, you go back to the hotel without him. The man is a workaholic, and you want a shower and some sleep, but he promises to join you soon. Instead you end up sharing a car with Reid and Morgan, neither of which say anything in the car, but while you’re waiting for the elevator, all bets seems to be off.

“So, you and the bossman huh?” Morgan teases with a grin as you do your best to ignore him, watching the numbers on the display tick down. The elevator door opens and you quickly step inside, hoping to leave them both behind. But alas, no such luck, as they step inside and Reid presses the button to the floor above yours.

“You know, work place relationships aren’t actually that uncommon. Did you know-” Here you tune him out, once again watching the numbers off the elevator. Normally you like when Reid goes on a tangent, but now, not so much.

“Reid, I will strangle you with my tie to shut you up if I have to.”

“Don’t you mean Hotch’s tie?” The grin on his face is shit-eating, which is rare from Spencer, and Morgan laughs loudly. The combination of it makes you curse under your breath as the doors finally open to your floor. You don’t bother saying goodbye, just going straight down the hall towards the door with your room number on it. Sliding the keycard in, it opens with a click. You drop your bag on the floor as soon as the door shuts behind you, and you switch on the lights.

You can’t help it.

You laugh as you take in the big room in front of you.

Or rather, the suite.

The honeymoon suite by the looks of it. Red and white decor, candles, big bed, nicely decorated with towels shaped like a heart, and some champagne in an ice-bucket on the desk in the room. There’s a small white card right next to the champagne, which you quickly read. ‘Have fun ;) -G’. You snort at it, that woman is a menace. (But also very nice, but you do shoot her text to warn her that she should sleep with one eye open. The only response you get is a winking emoji).

A surprisingly short time later you hear the door to the suite unlock, alerting you to Aaron’s arrival where you just stepped out of the shower. He calls your name in a questioning tone, you’re quick to respond as you wrap a towel around your mostly dry form.

“In here, one sec.” You step out of the bathroom, Aaron’s attention going straight to you before pointedly looking around the room. You lean on the door frame of the bathroom.

“Garcia.” You offer as an explanation.

“Ah.” He accepts, looking around once more. “This is going to be a fun expense report.” You snort at that, pushing yourself of the door frame and walking over to him. Putting your arms around his neck, you pull him close for a kiss.

“Certainly, but let us enjoy it for now, I’m sure Garcia has an explanation locked and ready for the report when we need it.” Aaron tries not to smile at that, but is halfway to failing when you catch his lips in a kiss.

----

The next time your relationship is brought up is on the jet back when the case ends well a few days later. Everyone have found their way to pass the time as usual. Reid and Rossi are playing chess in the one of two seaters, Morgan is half asleep, JJ is typing away on her phone next to him, across from them in the aisle seat is Hotch who has started on more paper work already, and you’re laying down on the couch across from them reading a book.

Everybody is in their own little bubble, that’s until Rossi is standing in the aisle and clearing his throat. Everyone looks at him, even Derek who JJ jostles awake with an elbow. Rossi got a bottle of expensive looking whiskey in one hand, several glasses in the other.

“I believe a little celebration is in order.” He starts handing out glasses, you sit up and close your book as you accept yours, just as Garcia pops up on the screen over the couch.

“What for?” You ask, genuinely curious, giving Garcia a look trough the screen, a very grinning and happy looking Garcia.

“Well, the case went well, we saved several people, and ah yes, your not so secret relationship anymore.”

“Rossi-” You and Hotch try to say something at the same time, but Rossi doesn’t let either of you speak another word.

“Oh no no no, neither of you get to Rossi me. Just shut up and listen okay?” He pours a hefty helping of whiskey in everyone’s glass as he speaks, even Garcia got a glass back home somehow, no doubt filled with something similar.

“We just want you both to know that we are very happy for you, both of you. And though the way us knowing came about wasn’t ideal, we will always support and be there for you.” You and Hotch look around at your team, noting the happy faces watching you before making brief eye contact.

“I want you all to know that nothing in this team changes with this, we’re still going to work together and remain professional while on the clock. There will be no preferential treatment here.”

“What he said.” You incline your head towards Hotch as you look around the jet once more.

“Aaron, we know that. Like I said, we just want you both to be happy.” Rossi says, soft smile on his face. You raise your glass, trying to pretend that the slight sting you can feel in your eyes is just tiredness.

“Cheers to that.” Everyone joins in, clinking their glasses together in loud celebration and happy voices, Garcia cheering with her glass against the camera lens back home. Everyone takes a sip of the whiskey, several mentioning the smooth burn of it.

“So, how long have you two love birds been together?” Morgan eyes flicker between you and Aaron.

“See, that right there Morgan is the million dollar question.” Rossi points between you both. “Come on, out with it.” You grin, trying and failing to hide your grin behind taking another sip of the whiskey, Aaron doing the same.

“Do you want to tell them or should I?” You ask, getting up to lean on the chair Aaron is sitting in. He looks up at you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.

“I think you should.”

“Okay.” You say with a shrug, looking at all of the team before settling your gaze on Spencer. “Remember the strangulation serial killer we caught in LA earlier this year?”

“We caught him and finished that case 6 months, 11 days, and 9 hours ago.” Spencer helpfully supplies.

Then it dawns on them all what that means.

Yells of surprise from everyone, and this time neither you or Aaron try to hide your matching grins. Rossi is laughing loudly while slapping his knee, Reid seems to have lost his composure, mumbling that he should have seen something sooner, Garcia is speechless for perhaps the first time since you have known her, Morgan looks frozen in shock, and JJ is trying to hide her laughter behind her hand.

“6 months? How even?!” Morgan exclaims. You shrug, your grin shit-eating by now.

“What can I say, we’re good profilers and now how to hide our tells.” You glance at Aaron and squeezes his shoulder, who in return brings your hand to his lips for a brief kiss on your knuckles. Garcia squeals from her screen, gushing over how cute the two of you are as you smile and laugh in response.

[leahseclipse]

The Reichenbach Fall: Aftermath - Chapter One: Happy Death Anniversary, Detective.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x GN!Reader (With some Fem mentions)

Warnings: S2 FINALE SHERLOCK SPOILERS, Major character death; death topic, mourning, suicide mentions, depression mentions... (lemme know if I missed stuff.)

Summary: Two years after the death of Sherlock, what could be next?

Word Count: 4.0K

A/N: Hey there! I've finally found the motivation to post my Sherlock fic here. If you prefer AO3, click here :)

++

Sherlock used to call at midnight, he never cared whether you were trying to sleep, or if you were actually sleeping- he’d just call.

Sometimes to complain that technology was futile given the multitude of defaults it contained (his phone, for example)- or to talk about an article in a newspaper, thinking we’d be interested in it.

It’s been two years since the last call. No one could bring themselves to delete his number since; and I understand the reason for it. We all had some hope inside us, it was small given all the time that went by, but it was there.

We all wondered if he wasn’t alive. Movies aren’t real, so the whole fake-death scenario couldn’t have been real but we all thought “why not?”, it could happen. That was over a year ago, but I still believed it, I wasn’t quite planning on giving up; and when my phone rang a bit after midnight, I still had a glimpse of hope, each time.

That glimpse was cut short when I read the caller ID. It was John. I did like him, he just wasn’t who I expected to see, but I picked up the phone, just to not be rude. Voicemail is awful. “John? What’s going on?”

"I...I don’t really know, actually. Guess I...needed to feel less alone. I don’t even know."

“Hold on.” I glanced at my bedside as I put the phone on speaker before sitting on the bed. "...so, you couldn’t sleep?"

"Yeah, I’ve been trying for an hour, certainly because of..." He stopped, hesitating with his words.

Who else other than Sherlock would it be, honestly. The man’s always been in our thoughts, and now that he’s gone, we have to be reminded that he’s stuck in our minds. The only way to hear him is through memories, and probably some of us are afraid to forget what he sounds like through time. He wasn’t the guy to make documentaries on him, film himself- hell, he rejected every interview he was offered. The only thing we have is pictures, which isn’t enough.

"It’s him, isn't it?" I presumed.

"Yeah, Sherlock." He confirmed. “It’s the anniversary of his death, in two weeks.”

See, that was the kind of thing I didn’t want to recall as it made me think of what I didn’t want to accept, but at the same time, if I stopped thinking about that, might as well forget Sherlock completely.

"It kept me awake too." I admitted.”I can’t believe it.”

No one really does, to be honest. We all wish that it could be fake, that’s what we would need, even if it’d hurt to see him while we mourned all this time.

"It still feels a bit weird without him, even after basically two years."

“It didn’t seem right without him, at first."

"It took us a bit to get used to it, and still...I think I didn’t get used to it fully to this day."

"Neither am I, John. I don't think I ever will. Time will make the pain less...painful, but it’ll never erase him, he'll be in our thoughts from the moment we wake up."

"I wish it was all a dream. I hate to wake up and not see him. He annoyed me sometimes but...he was my friend."

"He was annoying but a good friend, yeah.” I said, “It’s just...not right. Nothing is right. I feel like everything has gone cold. I swear that I haven't seen a single ray of sunshine."

"It's probably time fooling around, I don't know." He said.

"It could but, when he was there, there would be some sunny-ish days. I haven't seen one since. He left, and it's like he took the sun with him, John. The whole world is falling apart.”

"I felt that too, for a moment. But, I don't really trust whatever I think about these days. I don't pay much attention to whatever I do."

"You should be careful though, I don't need you to die because you didn't pay attention out there. And before you say anything, there's no joke in there. I mean it, Watson.”

"I wasn't going to say that, trust me."

"You better. I need you there."

"Same goes for me. You've been of great help since…"

"Yeah. Since." I paused. "It sucks."

"It does.” He agreed. “Well I...I’m gonna go back to sleep, I don’t want to bother you all night.”

“You didn’t bother me, don’t worry. It helped to talk. I could even stay a bit more, if you’re not planning on going back now.”

“Alright, then.”

++

It’s like the weather watched me plan the day, rain is on time. It couldn’t be more depressing on top of me dressed in black, but I just didn’t feel like coming in rainbow clothes would be appropriate, even if he wouldn’t care how I dressed anyway, even if he’s dead, yeah.

It feels weird to go, I always expected this was all a dream, or that it’d just...never happen. He’s the kind of person that outlives everyone, and Sherlock was this kind of person, he’s always been that person. He even used to say he’ll always be there, that he’d never leave, and now I guess we’ve both made mistakes, he’s not here anymore.

I never thought that would happen, I can’t tell how bad I prayed to whatever god to wake up, but that did nothing but make me a fool, nothing changed.

His apartment remained empty, as ours, he’d consider each house he could sleep at, his. I remember that he stayed at John’s for a week, before having to go back as John was “not entertaining” enough because he slept too much- As if we got to sleep all day.

He used to think everyone was like him, barely sleeping, barely tired, because I don’t think I’ve had the opportunity of seeing him elsewhere other than a room full of piles of papers.

He did sleep, but not at night, it was kind of like a cat, throughout the day, when possible. I always laughed about it along with John, and he never minded, he’d either pretend to not care, or join the conversation, and I already miss this kind of talks.

They’d either be incredibly short, or extremely long, you really had to clear your schedule for an hour or two when he’d talk. It’s not that it bothered me, it was more the others, those who didn’t know him. They’ve always found an amount of weirdness in him, which I had when I was like them, a stranger.

I never thought we’d get close, I didn’t even think anyone was close with him, he seemed quite the lonely guy, very private. Even after getting to know him, he remained quite private, as I thought, he wouldn’t share much, even with John and Mycroft; but, it didn’t matter that much, we still managed to have a great friendship, and I’ll always miss it.

Not any person will be like him, he was one of a kind. Not anyone could copy him without being seen as a fool. Sherlock Holmes was unique, he didn’t copy anyone to rise up, didn’t take anyone as a model, he did it all himself, he was a model himself.

He didn’t wish to be like anyone, it was the contrary, everyone wanted to be at his level, have the recognition he had, the fame, all the things that made him known, that made Sherlock be him. Even I won’t find a mentor like him, not any of them will be better, they’ll all seem ridiculous to me, even if they have more experience than him.

Nothing will be the same. This world won’t be the same without him being here, he’s gone now.

He took a big piece of whatever thing, when he left, and whatever thing he took was a big one, because it left us all empty. The kind of empty feeling that won’t quite go away, we’ve all been so used to having him around so much that it was a habit.

And now that he’s gone, nothing feels right, even living doesn’t feel right. It won’t ever feel right without him.

I almost feel guilty for being alive, I’m not as smart as him, I won’t contribute to anything. He was the smart one, we really lost an important person and I don’t think it wouldn’t have changed much if I had died instead, people would just be sad, I think.

It wouldn’t be that bad.

His death is bad to the point that the world he left behind can’t function as well as when he was alive. The whole puzzle is missing, hell, the whole world, if I go out of the metaphor.

...Sherlock would have been the corners of it, the foundations of it, what made it whole, what gave a start to get the rest of the puzzle.

He would have corrected me with hundreds of better metaphors if he could hear me, I really suck at this. He never did, though.

In fact, most of his talking contained metaphors, it was his signature, his day couldn’t feel right if he wouldn’t tell at least one.Now the whole ‘no day without a metaphor is a bad day’ is falling on us, and nothing or no one will make that feeling go away.

It’s strange, and funny that he managed to create all of those special feelings, memories, that we only felt with him. Sherlock’s had quite the special part in our lives. He changed our lives in such a spectacular way, and to be honest, life felt less depressing, even if our job is full of dead people and mysteries that make our sleep schedule non-existent, quite rare.

He made us forget all of that shit, whenever he could. That’s why I looked up to him, and thought about him so much. Whenever I had a problem, I’d call him first. Of course, I did call John, and Mycroft, but Sherlock was like my emergency contact, he’d always pick up, if possible.

Somehow, he always knew the answers to everything, and when he was clueless (which only happened twice, in five years)- he'd attempt to find something close to it, and even if his explanations didn’t solve anything, I didn’t care.

It probably made him sort of happy to explain it, share his big knowledge, so as long as he enjoyed himself, that was enough. I did hope he did enjoy himself, I never thought about asking and now that I think about it, I probably should have, it’s too late now.

If he can hear me, a sign would be great, probably. A good thing if he enjoyed talking, and a bad one if I annoyed him? It’d be nice to know even if he probably won’t answer, he must still be working; I know it.

He would be bored if he didn’t have his face in newspapers and whatever case. I always said Sherlock not to overwork, but he never listened. I hope he’s not doing it right now, that man was a total workaholic, right to his last breath, he never stopped.

I just hope he’s okay, wherever he is.

He deserves peace, enough things happened to him, he almost died a couple times, almost lost us if we hadn’t survived all of the wounds and things that happened, almost lost himself because of depression- all of these could have killed him.

He would have stayed alive, but he would have died inside, I just know it even if he didn’t show it much. But he did feel, he did have feelings.

I know he liked us a lot, even though he didn’t show it much; he did enjoy living even with all of the problems he had so, let’s hope he’s not in pain, stressing, suffering, whatever feeling that makes him feel bad.

You can take it easy now, we’re taking care of what you couldn’t finish for you, we’re taking care of the legacy you couldn’t pursue for you, we’ve got your back, Holmes. John, Mycroft, myself, and whatever person you know will tell you everything that happens so you don’t miss anything. You’ll be able to debate about the events, you won’t miss a single thing of what’s happening.

Even if I have my pride, and don’t want to admit I’m depressed about you being dead, I’ll tell you everything, I know you’d be here to tell me how to deal with the death of a person, the whole five stages of grief. You said them to me so much that I always have them in my head.

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.

I’d say that I’m at the last phase, but a lot of anger comes in it. I still wish it had been me, sometimes. It’s not fair it happened to Sherlock. I just hope he’s not too mad. If it had been someone else, he’d probably try to talk some sense into me, get me to tell more logical things.

If ghosts were real, I know he’d tell me to stop putting the blame on myself, even if I don’t even know why I blame myself, we don’t even know what caused him to jump from a damn building. And even if someone explains it, we won’t know if it’s real no matter how much they’ll prove it’s the truth.

The only person that can tell us that is gone.

So, unless we don’t find...a diary, or a note, proving it all, we won’t know.

The last thing we’ve heard from him was an apology, the ‘note’ he left behind was the call John received, which means the presumed note I mentioned doesn’t exist, only the call does.

After leaving his note, he fell from the roof and he died on impact, his pulse was long gone when he reached the floor, and it didn’t come back. I didn’t believe all of it happened, even when I heard John telling it, none of it seemed true...until I saw the death certificate.

The whole world stopped, and it still is frozen now. I wish the grave I’m standing in front of wasn’t real, I wish that my eyes were betraying me.

If only.

“Turns out you lied, Sherlock. You left.”

I hate you for what you did.

“You could have explained all of this a bit more. Even if I would have preferred not to, I would have prevented you from dying if you gave me a note...before.”

I wish I had known, I should have known. He didn’t have to die, he wasn’t supposed to die, certainly not like that.

Not now, that wasn’t his time. He was supposed to die of old age because of natural reasons, after all of us. Outlive us all.

Damn Sherlock Holmes wasn’t supposed to die at 35 years old. It's too young, too soon, Too much to bear.

“What am I supposed to do now, I mean- what are we all supposed to do? None of us can replace you, we’ll take twice the amount of time you barely took to resolve cases on our own, you left us in a really bad situation, you know that? It’s not going to be the same if you’re not here with us.”

And I miss you like a little kid.

“You could have made us take classes to become a close version of you, at least. I’m saying ‘close’ because no one will ever be like you. Not even that detective that had 30 years of experience, he wasn’t even close, really. I’d say he looked like a newbie, next to you.”

I even started to lose the habit of calling him when he’s not directly on the field and I hate this. I’ve only known him for a couple of years, and yet, he’s going to be ironed in my mind for a lifetime.

That man, I swear.

He didn’t think that sticking so close to us, getting to know us, sharing things about him would affect us so badly now that he’s gone. Real gone.

It hurts to say that, I wish I could just pretend he wasn’t gone, but that’s not really...healthy? It’s not really healthy in the way that if I pretend he’s still there- while he’s six feet under ground would drive me crazy, it’d completely destroy the whole ‘acceptance phase’ I’ve been working on. He’s dead, and there’s nothing we can do to bring him back.

That’s what my brain has to acknowledge, pretending he’s alive wouldn’t do any good.

Sometimes life gets to an end, and we have to accept that. I know that Sherlock, his brother and even John wouldn’t want to see me like this- ignoring reality, building a fake world to protect me from the real one.

Hurting sucks. Getting reminded that I won’t be seeing him anymore sucks, but everything sucks in life, and that’s what happens when you live. You can’t have a perfect happy life with all the shitty problems, that doesn’t exist.

But even if this sucks, I also get to remember all of the great things Sherlock has accomplished, the hundreds of memories we’ve made all together, whatever makes me happy- but there’s still a lot of hurt to go through before being able to think about them without crying because I miss them.

I wish that could be happening right now, I must have filled an entire bottle of water with all my tears. It’s even worse when that happens at 2am after you wake up from a dream about them.

Speaking of dreams, I don’t think I’ve ever had so many dreams with him compared to when he was alive. It’s as if he's haunting me, and even if I like him, I’d wish he wouldn’t do that so often, a little peace and quiet would be nice, even if I don’t want that to stop.

I’m afraid I’ll forget Sherlock if I stop thinking about him, block the memories to prevent me from the hurt that comes with it. I don’t want that to happen, he doesn’t deserve to have his legacy ignored because of my stupid feelings that hurt, he deserves to have his legacy remembered, discussed about, shared, not to have it trapped in newspapers, or in a corner of my head.

I like to imagine him being proud when I do that, even if I wouldn’t have known he was. He wasn’t the expressive kind, but he liked to show he was proud of you through a facial expression, a word, whatever could be ‘decrypted’. He wasn’t as cold as people saw him, he was extremely kind, even if he was broken in millions of pieces inside.

But yet, he overcame everything and came back even stronger. Every single time. He was amazing in so many ways, and that’s why I wish I could be like him.

So much.

I sighed, adjusting the grip I had on my umbrella, as I squatted down in front of his grave. “Did you know we went through your closet yesterday? There’s really not a lot, your clothes are so...similar. We can easily buy the same to be ‘like you’. But I don’t want to touch them, they’re kind of like precious pieces you can find in a museum.”

I hope he doesn’t think I’m crazy because of that.

“And...yeah, we went through your place because we can’t bring ourselves to sell it, I don’t want someone else to live in there and ruin it with their own belongings. But at the same time, living in it would be weird, I don’t know. I can’t find an explanation, just that it’s weird, living in the apartment of a dead person. Kinda creepy.” I explained, looking up from my umbrella as I realized the rain had gone down, letting a few rays of a ‘somehow’ sun. “Look, the sun listened to me. It’s coming up so I can give my emotional speech full of hope.” I sighed. “I don’t...I don’t even know what to say anymore. Kind of ironic as I always have something to say.”

I actually kind of know, but I don’t want to say it.

He’s gone. No miracle will bring him back, but I’ve kept hearing John saying it, I heard him last time we came; and even though I can’t bring myself to say that, I want to so badly. That’s all I’ve been wanting to happen since you died, I don’t want anything else and I don’t care about love anymore even if you always wanted me to be happy.

You’re what made me happy, you were the definition of love. Maybe what I’ve been feeling was that but I never brought myself to admit it.

I have loved you since the first day, but you always said that whoever fell in love with you should find better as you considered yourself a forever loner, unable to feel and give love, but I know you were capable of it, if you had tried, I believed you could have done it.

“Look at me, in front of your grave, exposing the feelings I’ll never have the answer to, I don’t even know if you liked me back. You really took all your secrets to your grave, huh? What a selfish prick, you could’ve shared that, at least.” I complained.

I don’t think I’ve ever known someone that hid so much stuff, he really was a whole mystery to himself, that man.

We can’t even solve what caused you to commit suicide, we’ll probably never solve it. You were the only one that knew why, and yet he can’t just pull a miracle and live again for a few minutes as a zombie to explain. That would be of great help, even if I’d prefer he’d live again.

That’d be an awesome miracle, even better than what happens at Christmas.

“Can you do that for me, though?”

Just that, I won’t ask for anything else.

“Just one more miracle, Sherlock, for us.” I said, putting my hand on the polished surface. “...don't be dead.”

It’s too easy, you can’t be dead, Nothing can kill you. I know John, and a shit ton of people saw you fall, but...let me believe all of that isn’t true.

Just a fake accident, Do that for us. Please. We need you more than you can ever imagine, you were so important to us, you were family.

A reason to fight for, to live for.

“Don’t be, please.” I pleaded, as I got up from the ground. “I uh...I’ll be back whenever I can, okay? Work’s been crazy since you’re gone, it’s incredible. I don’t know if it’s because we don’t have your help, or because it’s always been like that.”

Probably a mix of the two, I don’t really know, it’s been complicated to think properly these days. Sherlock would be the one to help with that, usually.

“I’ll have to ask someone else, I guess.”

I still haven’t found this ‘someone else’, by the way, It’s been two years, I know. But I still haven’t found someone that can help me the way he used to.

He still remains unique after all this time.

“I’ll be on my way, then. You’re awfully quiet today, guess you’re not in the mood, so I’ll go.”

I wish I still didn’t have to say goodbye, but this is the only thing I can say when I leave.

The weather had even gotten better, as if it only rained to have a full dramatic effect, there was only wind, which didn’t seem to announce a storm, for now. The sound of the leaves being crushed by my feet as I walked was to be heard, as no other sounds were around, it was very quiet today.

The silence did feel weird, I never liked it.

Not when it caused me to think of…

“Got time to spare for me?”

...him.

“Sherlock.”

++

|Chapter Two|

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 73 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Courtney committed a fireable offense when she lost Miss Fame’s sketches.

This Chapter: Bianca rides in on a white horse, and Violet says yes to cake.

***

BIANCA: I need Courtney’s address

ADORE: Why

BIANCA: Because she seems upset and she’s not answering and I’m worried

ADORE: What did you do?

BIANCA: NOTHING

BIANCA: I don’t think

BIANCA: Something probably happened at work

BIANCA: ADORE. SEND THE ADDRESS FOR FUCK’S SAKE

BIANCA: I WILL CUT YOU OFF BITCH

BIANCA: Adore, please.

ADORE: Fine! But if she’s mad, that’s on you

BIANCA: ACCEPTED

ADORE: Just to warn you, it’s a real shithole

BIANCA: Alright, alright, just please send the address

*

Even though Bianca felt like a little bit of a stalker just showing up at her place like this, she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. Courtney had cancelled with those few cryptic messages and then gone radio silent. Bianca knew her well enough by now to be certain that something had gone wrong, since just hours earlier, she was sending sweet messages about how much she couldn’t wait for them to be together.

She tried calling her a few more times from the car, but there was no answer. Finally, standing in front of the crumbling brownstone, she had to come clean.

BIANCA: Look, I’m sorry for taking drastic measures, but I was really worried…

BIANCA: I’m outside your building

Seconds later, her phone rang. She answered, heart filling with relief. “Hi baby-”

“What are you doing here?”

Her voice sounded broken and raw, and it was immediately clear that she’d been crying. Bianca could feel her heart in her throat, head suddenly racing with all the possibilities of things she may actually have done wrong. Had she really fucked this up so quickly?

“I was worried about you, so I thought…” Bianca bit her lip, afraid to even ask if she was the one who had upset Courtney like this. “Are you gonna let me inside?”

There was a pause, a few beats, the sound of sniffling.

“I just...I kind of don’t want you to...see it.” She sounded choked up again, voice small and soft.

“Angel…” Bianca couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief. It didn’t sound like she was angry, at least not with Bianca--just ashamed of where she lived, which Bianca could understand. “Do you think I’ve always lived in a penthouse?”

“No,” Courtney admitted after a pause.

“No,” Bianca repeated. “Not by a longshot. Please let me in, I need to see you. I just want to talk.”

A few minutes later, Courtney appeared, opening the door from the basement level. Bianca raced down the narrow steps and swept her into a hug, trying not to fret too much about the way she hung limply in her arms.

She followed her inside, and while she’d been prepared for something small and substandard, based on everything she’d heard so far, this was far worse than her fears. A tiny basement unit, dank and dark with exposed pipes and what looked like the world’s oldest sofa bed. It was also clearly an illegal sublet with no kitchen--only a metal, industrial sink with an electric kettle and micro-fridge below.

Besides the bed, there was little furniture. Her closet appeared to be two wardrobe boxes, and a few other boxes were stacked next to the bed to create a makeshift side table. Bianca took it all in, wondering exactly how she ended up in such a dismal place.

But now was not the time to ask about that, not when Courtney looked so utterly miserable. Even in the dim lighting, Bianca could see that her eyes were red and swollen. She followed her to the sofa bed, sitting down gingerly beside her (and holy shit was that thing uncomfortable) and taking one of her hands into her lap.

“Tell me why you’re so upset, angel, please.”

Courtney took a shaky breath, fresh tears filling her eyes. “I did something...really terrible today.”

“Did you kill someone? Do you need me to get a shovel?” Bianca asked, and she was rewarded with a hint of a smile as Courtney shook her head.

“No, but…” Every trace of smile disappeared from her face as she said, “I bet Miss Fame is gonna think this is worse.”

“What happened?”

“I accidentally left an envelope with a bunch of her sketches in a cab.” A tear rolled down her reddened cheek.

Bianca’s eyes went wide, understanding why Courtney was so distraught. Fame rarely sketched anymore, but when she did, she was as attached to the original work as if it was a piece of her own body. She immediately went into problem-solving mode, trying to think of things to mitigate the damage.

“Have you tried calling the cab company-”

“I don’t know which cab company it was, I didn’t get a receipt and I can’t remember no matter how hard I try,” Courtney cried. “But I did call, I must have called a hundred different companies, but...I think they might be gone.”

“Okay-”

“It’s not okay! Her sketches, her original sketches! How could I have done that, I’m so dumb, I’m so bad at that stupid job!” More tears poured down her cheeks, sobs heaving her chest.

“Hey, come here…” Bianca pulled her in, hushing her softly, a hand rubbing circles into her back. “I know, I get what a big deal it is, but it sounds like you did everything you could. And I promise you, it’ll be okay-”

“How?! How will it be okay?! I’m gonna get fired!” Courtney exclaimed, and Bianca had to bite her tongue, the word ‘so?’ nearly slipping from her lips.

“Okay, well...let’s say you do get fired,” Bianca said slowly. “I don’t think you will, but if you do...would that be so bad? It’s clearly not your dream job.”

“But I need it. I can’t get my new work visa without it. It’s been months and I still don’t have the answer and-”

“You don’t have a work visa?”

“Not after March. I have an attorney who’s working on it, but he keeps running into problems and he’s already charged me so much and I don’t know-”

“Hold up. Galactica hired you, but they’re not handling your immigration issues?” Bianca asked.

“Well...Violet told me not to tell Miss Fame, so I...I was afraid to bring it up with HR. But I got the number of an immigration lawyer from Miss Fame’s contacts, and...it’s all just so expensive. He keeps asking for more money, and I can’t-”

“Wait a second.”

Bianca was no immigration expert, but she knew two things: 1, getting a work visa for an entry level administrative job was nearly impossible and 2, it was actually impossible without the full support of a sponsor company.

“Whoever that lawyer is, they’re a total fraud. Don’t give them any more money, okay?”

“Oh god.” Courtney moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. “Why can’t I do anything right?!”

“This isn’t your fault,” Bianca assured her. “You trusted a professional and they took advantage of you. They could be disbarred for that. And as for the sketches...stop beating yourself up. Yes, she’s going to be angry, and upset, but things happen. People make mistakes. I’ve made plenty, believe me.”

“Like this?” Courtney asked, eyes skeptical.

“I once dropped my boss’s wife’s passport off a subway platform.”

“Did you get fired?” Courtney asked.

“No. But I did get yelled at for a solid hour. Maybe two. It wasn’t a good day. But...I got through it. And you’ll get through this.”

“Maybe. But I just know I’m gonna fuck up again. Everything is...I don’t think it should still be this hard, not after 4 months. Miss Fame even said that, earlier today. I’m not new anymore, I should know better. I should be better. What’s wrong with me?!”

At first, Bianca said nothing, simply wrapping her in an embrace. She knew that Courtney was finding the job stressful--anyone in their right mind would find that job stressful. But the fact that it was this bad...Bianca felt guilty for not noticing sooner. She rocked Courtney slowly, letting her fall apart in her arms, whispering comfort into her ear.

After a while, when she sensed that Courtney was cried out, sobs slowing down and some of the tension finally melting away, Bianca pulled back and took her by the shoulders. She paused, considering for a minute if she really wanted to get involved before saying, “Maybe this isn’t the right job for you.”

“Well, I don't have another offer, so...oh, god, what am I gonna do? Is the visa thing really bad? Am I gonna get deported?”

“No,” Bianca said with a smile, shaking her head decisively. “I’ll take care of your visa. Don’t worry about it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet, but there are options. I promise, okay?” Bianca kissed her cheek softly, up near her ear, lips lingering on her tear-stained skin. “I’ve gotten pretty attached to you, so you leaving the country would be a huge bummer.”

Courtney finally seemed to relax, letting out a small chuckle, resting her head on Bianca’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave you either. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, angel.” Bianca squeezed her hand tighter, lacing their fingers together. “Does that mean you want to come home with me?”

Courtney nodded slowly, squeezing Bianca’s hand back. “Yes please.”

“Good.” Bianca tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “And, um...okay so, remember when you said that Christmas music makes you want to go to the beach?”

“Yeah…” Courtney tilted her head, puzzled.

“Well I may have booked us a little...getaway. Just for a few days. So you can have some sun and relax and get away from this dreary weather.”

“Where?” Courtney asked, eyes wide.

“Puerto Rico. It’s not that long of a flight, so-”

“But I thought you had to stay and work!”

“I can work from there.” Bianca flashed her a charming smile, adding, “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you did. I’m…” Courtney took a deep breath, clearly overwhelmed, and then glanced over to where a beaten-up duffel bag lay on the floor. “I guess I need to pack some other clothes, although I’m not sure I have the right stuff here...”

“There are stores in San Juan.”

Courtney laughed, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. “I’m never gonna get used to the way you live.”

“You will. And that’s a promise,” Bianca said. “So will you come with me? Our flight leaves tomorrow at 2.”

“Yeah, of course! I just need like 20 minutes or so to pack.” Courtney’s mood already seemed to brighten as she began pulling boxes out of a stack against the brick wall.

“Of course, take your time. Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Oh. Uh...yeah, sure. It’s uh...out that door and down the hall, on the right. I share with Fred, but I think he’s at work right now, so-”

“Who’s Fred?”

“Um-”

“You know what, I can hold it,” Bianca assured her, crossing her legs.

“I’ll be fast, I promise,” Courtney said, pulling a pair of sandals out of the box and tossing them to the floor. “And B...thank you.”

“For what, sunshine?”

“Everything.”

***

“I’ll get to the dishes in a minute, mom!” Gigi closed the door behind her, looking around her bedroom in an attempt to remember where she had put her earpods. She crouched down, digging through her backpack. Symone had made her a playlist of music she had to listen to over the holidays, and if she was gonna be put on Cinderella duty, she might as well make it productive.

It felt strange to be home; the smells, sights and sounds were all exactly the same, while she couldn’t help but feel different, like she had grown up in the weeks she was away.

Some of her friends had reached out when they had seen on Instagram that she had returned to L.A, but she hadn’t responded yet. She was an adult now, with a real job, not a college kid that could mess around and do all the things she used to, hanging out in the skate park suddenly so lame and childish compared to all the things she was doing in New York.

She had spent the day in her mom’s studio, watching her work like she had done so many times before, her mom excitedly asking about what clothes she should make her, and showing her all of the sketches she had done while Gigi was away based on the pictures she had sent.

Gigi couldn’t wait to wear her mom's creations, the outfits more chic than anything she had seen in the multiple designer stores she had now been in. Sutan’s words that her style was her edge ones she had really taken to heart.

“There!” Gigi exclaimed triumphantly, pulling her earpods out of her backpack. She grabbed her phone, and was just about to get to the kitchen to do the dishes, when she saw that she had gotten a message from Symone, a massive grin spreading on her face as she slid back down to the floor, leaning against her bed to respond, her chores completely forgotten.

***

JINKX: Hey honey. Just want to make sure you made it home from the airport okay.

JINKX: I read it was snowing a ton.

JINKX: Plus you know, I haven’t heard from you in almost 4 hours so I miss you like crazy.

JINKX: ;-P

ALASKA: Haha, I’m fine. At a bar right now catching up with the bro.

JINKX: Tell him hi for me

JINKX: xoxo

ALASKA: <3

***

It was Christmas Eve Day, barely past dawn, but Courtney was already awake. She’d slipped from the bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake Bianca, padding over to the big picture window to watch the golden sunlight reflecting off the buildings, admire the light dusting of snow on the trees in the park. She wasn’t used to thinking of New York as pretty, but from up here, it really was.

“Hey...good morning…” Bianca said, her voice rough with sleep, just the way Courtney loved most.

“Good morning.” She turned around, giving her a slightly apologetic smile. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nahh...I guess my body just doesn’t want to sleep without you.”

“I love it when you’re cheesy,” Courtney giggled.

“Oh yeah? Plenty more where that came from. What are you doing all the way over there?”

“Just...checking out the view. It’s pretty amazing.” Courtney turned and headed back to the bed, suddenly missing Bianca’s warmth beside her.

“The view over here isn’t half bad either,” Bianca told her with a wink.

Courtney giggled some more, crawling toward her across the mattress. “Happy Christmas Eve…”

Their lips met in a sweet and tender kiss, Bianca’s hands cradling her face.

“Speaking of which...how do you feel about opening one of your presents now?”

“Really? Already?” Courtney asked, eyes lighting up.

“Well, it’s kind of useful, so I think it makes sense.” Bianca got up out of the bed, pulling a huge box wrapped in silver from her closet.

Courtney sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing slightly as she ripped open the paper to reveal a gorgeous pink Fendi suitcase, covered in what had to be custom crystals. Her mouth fell open.

“I figured you could use it for our trip. You know. I’m all about practical gifts.”

Courtney couldn’t help laughing. The suitcase was anything but practical...but it was perfect, like it was designed from Courtney’s wildest daydreams.

“I don’t know if I have enough to fill this,” Courtney said, running her fingers over it, watching the way the stones glittered in the light.

“Well...that’s cool, I could use the extra space myself.”

Courtney raised her eyebrows. She’d seen Bianca’s packed suitcases, two giant Louis Vuittons and a large, matching carry-on, nearly ready to go.

“You need more space? We’re going for a week...what are you even taking?!”

“More presents,” Bianca said, dimples deepening.

“Oh my god…”

***

Violet chewed on her lip; sorting through Google images really not where she excelled. She was looking for pictures of Raja at the Met Ball, slowly combing through what she could find since her emails to Max and Pearl had gone unanswered. It was annoying, but expected. Pearl never missed out on the chance of ignoring her emails, and Max was british so he completely ignored both phone and computer the minute he left the office, so she was on her own.

“Violet?”

Violet looked up from her station at the living room table to see Sutan head peek in through the kitchen door, his phone against his shoulder, the glasses in his hair betraying that he had been working  as well even though it was Christmas Eve. “My mom’s asking if you like klappertaart?”

“... Excuse me what?” Klappertaart? Violet had no idea what that was. It wasn’t unusual for either Raja or Sutan to get a bit confused when they bounced between Indonesian and English, their sentences sometimes mixed up, but that didn’t sound Indonesian at all. “Is that German?”

“Dutch, actually,” Sutan smiled. “Remind me to educate you on the thrilling saga of Indonesia's colonial history some day.”

“Ah,” Violet felt a brief stab of shame, that information seeming like something she should have known, though she had barely even been aware that Indonesia existed before she had met her boyfriend.

“So?” Sutan walked fully into the room, leaning against the doorframe, his black pants tight in the waist, and Violet couldn’t help but admire him for a second. “Klappertaart?”

“I still don’t know what it is.”

“Oh fuck, right” Sutan’s eyes widened, and Violet laughed as she heard a noise from the phone, Murni clearly picking up on her son’s swearing, Sutan quickly putting the phone against his ear.

“Ya Bunda, ya ya, maaf,” Sutan grinned, walking over to the table before putting the phone down so he could continue talking.

“Klappertaart is… It’s a cake, that’s…” Sutan paused, clearly looking for his words. “There’s coconut and… Know what, excuse me.” Sutan held the phone up again, Indonesian falling from his lips as he talked to his mom and Violet had to hide a smile, Sutan clearly never considering what was in this mysterious klappertaart.

“There,” Sutan pulled away, “It’s a coconut cake with almonds and raisins, and we usually have it for Christmas.”

“Huh,” Violet ran over the ingredients in her head. It was incredibly nice of Sutan’s mom to ask if she liked the menu, and there weren’t any of the ingredients that she hated, though warm raisins were disgusting, but she was pretty sure she could get away with picking them off, so there was no reason to create a scene. “That sounds lovely.”

“Great,” Sutan smiled, bending down to give her a quick kiss before he returned to his phone call.

[conceptstage]

Misdialed

{Team Human Week Day Two: Prompt Modern AU}

AO3

Caleb woke with a gasp, cold sweat drying on his face and arms, his throat sore. He spent a few seconds looking around his room with the dim lamp casting away the shadows. His breath finally started to slow to normal and he scrambled for his cellphone. His fingers were shaking and his eyes were flitting around the room as he typed in the familiar number and then held it up to his ear as it started to ring.

He heard a click as it was answered and started speaking before she could talk. “Nott…” he started, gasping her name like it was a lifeline. “I am sorry, I don’t know what time it is, I am sure I woke you up.” He paused a moment to glance at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s three. It’s three in the morning, I am sorry. I had another nightmare.” He paused to give Nott a chance to speak if she wanted and to take a deep breath. Nott didn’t speak. She rarely did on these calls because she was still half asleep but just talking about them out loud helped more than he could say so she was usually okay with at least pretending to listen. “I was a child again,” he said, closing his eyes. “Younger than I had been in real life at the Academy, younger than ten. I was strapped to the table in the lab, He… He was there, standing over me. For a moment, he was just staring at me… And then, little by little, he started cutting parts of a me away. My fingers, then my toes, then my feet and up my legs and I screamed and screamed but no one came to help.” He paused again and steady himself.

“Damn,” said a voice that was decidedly not his best friend, Nott Brenatto. His blood ran cold. “That’s messed up.”

“Who is this?” He asked. His voice shaking.

“You called me, man, I think I’m the one who should be asking that. You alright though?”

Caleb pulled the phone away from his face and looked over the phone number that he had typed in. He’d hit 8 instead of 9. His vision started to blur and he could feel his throat starting to close up. “Who is this- who- who are you?”

“Hey, hey,” she said, her voice rough but uneasily kind, like she wasn’t used to it. “It’s alright, man, you’re gonna be fine. It was an honest mistake, no big.” Caleb started wheezing as he breathed, his eyes watering. “Slow down, you don’t sound so good. Take slow breaths. My name is Beau. I’m a librarian in Zadash.” She paused and he started taking deep breaths to try and calm down. She wasn’t in Rexxentrum, she didn’t have an accent. Maybe this mistake wouldn’t get him killed today. He really needed to save Nott’s number in his phone but he was always worried that if he was caught his phone would lead them to his friend. “You feeling better?” He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, though he knew she couldn’t see him. He breathed in deeply through his nose. “What’s your name?”

He hesitated. “Caleb Widogast.” He sighed as he caught his breath but his heart was still pounding hard in his chest. “Why did you not hang up? When you realized it was a wrong number?”

“I don’t know, man,” she mumbled in a way that told him she knew exactly why she didn’t hang up and was embarrassed by it. “You sounded… scared. I thought you might need help or something, whatever.” The line was silent for two heartbeats. “Do you?” she asked, her voice curious. “Need help?”

He sighed. “I am fine. It was just a dream.”

“You called someone at three in the morning because it scared you so badly, that doesn’t sound like just a fucking dream.” 

Caleb cleared his throat. “Thank you. I am sorry to wake you.”

“I was up already, haven’t slept yet. Get some sleep, man, it’ll be better in the morning.”

He expected her to hang up then but she didn’t and he realized that she was waiting for him to be the one to cut off their connection. He let it hang in the moment before finally hitting the red phone symbol on his screen and the time keeper stopped counting up and started blinking red.

He thought about calling Nott but found that he wasn’t scared anymore.

He got a call two days later.

He frowned and pulled the vibrating phone out of his pocket. 

No one ever called him, not even Nott. He was pretty sure that his phone hadn’t rung since he bought it a few months ago. He hadn’t turned the ringtone off so an upbeat chime filled his apartment.

He checked the number and got excited at first. It was Nott’s number. Then his excitement went away just as quickly. There was an 8 instead of a 9. He thought about not answering it, just hanging it up, turning off the ringer, and going back to finish cooking his breakfast. But she seemed like the kind of person to keep calling until she got what she wanted.

He sighed and answered it. “H-Hello?”

“Who the fuck is Nott and why does she keep calling me?”

Caleb blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Nott Brenatto. Or Veth, I guess, she comes up on caller ID as Veth Brenatto. She keeps fucking calling me and trying to convince me to be your friend. Did you tell her my number?”

“I- No! I mentioned to her that your number was just the same as hers but with an 8 instead of 9, so… I suppose I did tell her your number.”

The woman sighed. “I don’t need any friends, alright?” she asked. “And I don’t need some halfling I don’t know calling me twenty times trying to set me up with any.”

“I apologize, she just worries about me. I’ll tell her to stop.”

“Good.” Then she hung up on him.

Caleb finished his breakfast and shoveled it onto a plate before picking the phone back up and dialing Nott’s number, double checking the 9.

It clicked as it was picked up. “Hello, Mr. Caleb?”

Caleb couldn’t stop the small smile from creeping across his mouth. “Gut Morgen, Lucas. May I speak to your mother, please?”

“No.”

Caleb blinked and tilted his head in confusion. “Why not?”

“The lady won’t answer when she calls anymore so now she called her from Papa’s phone and they’re yelling at each other.”

“What lady?”

“The fucking bitch.”

Caleb choked on nothing and had to turn away and cough into his fist. “The what-”

He cut himself off when he heard Nott’s voice come over the phone, but it was distant, like she was on the other side of the room. “Caleb is a fucking delight and you would lucky to be his friend! Yeah, well fuck you too!” There was a pause. “She hung up on me! That fucking bitch!”

Caleb sighed. “Luc, could you pass me to your mother now that that’s finished, please?”

“Okay. Momma! Mr. Caleb is on the phone!”

There was some shuffling on the other end of the line. “Caleb,” Nott said, her voice a little tinged with nervousness. “What- What’s up?”

“Stop bothering that young woman,” he said sternly. 

“What? I wasn’t- Who-”

“Nott. Please. I am fine, I don’t need you to harass people to be my friend. I have you.”

Nott sighed. “But I can’t be there all the time.”

“You are there when I need you and that is more than enough. I am fine, Nott. Please don’t call her anymore. Promise me.”

Nott grumbled quietly under her breath. “But-”

“Promise.”

“Fine. I promise.”

Caleb nodded. “Good. And stop cussing in front of your son, he is basically a soundboard at this point.”

“What? Luc, what did you say to Mr. Caleb? Hey, come back- I gotta go, he’s making a break for it. Call me later!” Then she hung up the phone.

Caleb sighed but he was smiling.

Caleb gasped as he woke up a week later, sweat pooling around his eyes. He shuddered and sat up quickly, pushing the blankets off of him. He reached instantly for his phone, typing in Nott’s phone number and feeling instantly better the second he pushed the final digit. He pressed his phone to his ear as his breathing started to calm but it didn’t even ring.

‘The customer you are trying to reach has not set up their-’ said a robotic feminine voice until Caleb cursed and tossed the phone away. Nott must have dropped her phone in the toilet again. His heart rate started ratcheting up once more until his vision started to swim and he realized that he wasn’t breathing. He reached blindly for where he’d thrown the phone and closed his hand around it, dialing a number that he only knew by heart because it was so similar to Nott’s.

It rang three times before there was a click and a voice on the other end sleepily grunted instead of saying hello.

“B-Beau?”

“I guess…” she mumbled and he sighed in relief when he recognized her voice. He heard shifting on the other side of the line and her distant voice saying ‘Fucking shit’ before she was back. “It’s one o’ clock in the morning, man.”

“Yes, that is when nightmares tend to happen. At night.”

“Well what’d you call me for? I thought this was Nott’s thing?”

“She did not answer, her phone was not working.” Beau just hummed on the other end and he paused in case there was more deriding she wanted to get out or in case she hung up. She did neither of those things. “I am sorry, though, it seems that you were sleeping this time.”

“Kinda. Passed out counts as sleeping, right?” 

“I suppose so.” 

They fell into silence again for a few minutes until she sighed. “Alright man, you clearly have something you wanna talk about, let’s hear it.”

“I do not really want to talk about it, I just…” Talking about it might put her in danger.

“Needed to feel like you weren’t alone?” He didn’t speak, only nodded even though she couldn’t see. “Yeah, I get that. Wish I had someone to call when I felt that way. My go-to solution is getting drunk and finding a hot girl to go home with until I forget about it.”

“You could… you could call me.”

Beau sighed and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Thanks, man,” she said, the emotion in her voice indecipherable. “I might take you up on that. Don’t worry though, my freak outs happen at reasonable times of day unlike some people I could mention, ten o’ clock at the latest.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “I will let you get back to sleep then. Goodnight.”

Beau laughed out loud. “Yeah, night.” Then she hung up.

Caleb sat his phone off the side and let out a heavy breath, breathing easy for the first time since he’d woken up. 

[shipmistress9]

FTLOAP: Chapter 44: Love Is A Shield To Hide Behind

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net  -  AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36; Interlude 4; Chapter 37; Chapter 38; Chapter 39; Chapter 40; Interlude 5; Chapter 41; Chapter 42; Chapter 43

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Ah, here we finally are with the new chapter. Again sorry that I couldn't update last week, but well... Life...

Anyway, a huge THANK YOU to you all and your congratulations on my pregnancy! I really didn't expect that strong a response and it completely overwhelmed me. But also on this point and maybe to soothe some worries: this is already my third pregnancy; I already have to kids at the age of 6 and 8. So this isn't my first and I already have a good idea of what awaits me once the baby is there. Yes, I'm probably going to have even less time and nerves to write for a while. But I picked writing as a hobby because of my kids. Because it gives me the chance to be something else than just a mother all day. So I definitely won't stop writing! :)

And also: Another BIG Thank you to @ mintyfreshness ,@hey-its-laura-again ,@tally21112 ,@oneleggeddork , @thepixiedustfactory , @heathenvampires ,@haddocktree and @angelstar1st for your support and your kind words a little while ago. I still struggle with those same issues, but thanks to you all, I’m doing a lot better now. :)

In this chapter now, things happen that have been planned for ages again, and I'm really excited that we've reached this point by now.

This chapter's title comes from 'Love Is A Shield' by Camouflage. It wasn't a title I'd decided on before and for a while, I actually struggled with how to name this chapter. But when I heard the song on the radio a few days back, it all clicked into place and afterwards, the chapter went through some heavy editing again. xD But I really like how it turned out now.

Furthermore on the topic music: I also stumbled across the song 'Brother' by Kodaline (again, I should add. I know that I've heard it before). And I feel like it's the perfect song to describe our Chaos Squad.

. o O o .

Only slowly, awareness seeped back into Astrid’s mind as she woke. She was someplace soft, with someone holding her, and a familiar scent in her nose. Denial almost rose in her, but then the memories of the previous night came back as well. She wasn’t dreaming that she was in Hiccup’s arms, his warmth seeping into her, his shallow breathing ruffling her hair.

With a sigh, she turned in his arms and cuddled closer against his chest, basking in his closeness. Everything would be okay. These horrible two weeks of separation were over, and from now on, they wouldn’t let go of each other ever again. She didn’t know how they’d manage that yet and last night’s discussion hadn’t brought up anything either, as far as she’d noticed at least. But she just knew that it would work out. Everything else was unacceptable. 

For a short while, Astrid just watched him sleep. It was something she’d rarely seen before, with how they’d usually been equally exhausted when falling asleep and in a hurry when they’d woken up. But now, she had the time to really look at him, the light of early dawn falling through the window. He looked so peaceful and soft, as if nothing could bother him, and she wasn’t able to put into words how… how soothing that sight was. There had been so much pain and hurt and desperation on his face lately, so much sorrow – but now, it was all gone.

Unable to hold back, she reached up and brushed a strand of his unruly hair out of his face. At her touch, Hiccup stirred with a soft grunt. His arms around her tightened as if on reflex, before he slowly opened his eyes, his lips stretching into a warm smile at her sight. 

“Good morning,” he mumbled, blinking a few times before his eyes were truly able to focus and his mind seemed to clear a little. “So last night wasn’t a dream after all. Or am I still dreaming?”

Chuckling, Astrid shook her head. “No, you’re not,” she murmured back and caressed his face to prove that she was real.

His smile widened and he leaned closer to place a soft kiss on her forehead. Astrid closed her eyes, humming at the intimate gesture, before she stretched to seek his lips with her own. When they kissed, it was calm and reassuring, his hand eventually roaming upwards to cradle her face. Smiling against his lips, she basked in the familiar touch, content in the perfection of this moment.

But just like every moment, it had to end eventually. 

Too soon, a knock sounded from the door before it carefully got pushed open and Rachel poked her head inside. “Milady, it’s time,” she said in a low but urgent voice. “It won’t be long now before the rest of the castle wakes up.”

Astrid didn’t want to go, but she understood why it was necessary. Reluctantly, she peeled herself out of the nest of blankets and limbs she and Hiccup had slept in. It didn’t take her too long to get ready to leave, despite frequently getting distracted by his hands on her arms or his lips on her skin. And if Ruff minded the delay, she didn’t say anything for which Astrid was incredibly grateful. 

“When can we meet like this again?” she eventually asked as they were about to leave, unsure whether she’d meant to ask Hiccup or Ruff. Since Hiccup could only shrug with a somewhat insecure expression, it was Ruff who answered after a short pause. 

“Dagur and Eret suggested to meet again in two or three nights; we all need rest tonight and also need time to think or look up other options. And don’t look at me like that, young lady,” she added when Astrid’s face fell, “I know perfectly well that you can’t wait to get under his clothes again.” With a sly smirk, she glanced from her to Hiccup and back again. “I mean, I know that we won’t be able to keep you apart. But after all the sneaking through the castle you already did, I’d rather you’re meeting somewhere safe from now on. Tuff and I are looking into options there. The easiest would probably be to sneak him,” she nodded at Hiccup who had a somewhat stony expression on his face, ”into your rooms. Nobody goes into your bedroom without my say-so anyway.”

“And what if someone does?” Hiccup asked.

“Well, there’s space under the bed. I’ll knock and give you time to hide, and sneak you out later.” 

Tuff snorted from outside the room. “Putting the cart before the horse, sis. How do you plan to get him in there in the first place?”

“I have an idea. But no promises for tonight,” Ruff rebutted.

Astrid nodded, trying to express her gratefulness, even as waiting for another day or two felt like an eternity. But at least she would be able to spend more time in Hiccup’s arms again. That was all that mattered. She turned to Hiccup again and stretched to give him a hurried kiss goodbye, giggling at the contrast of his soft lips and the rough scraping of his stubbles.

His hands held her tight though, unwilling to let her go just yet. “See you later,” he rasped into her ear, his fingers at her waist twitching.

Again, Astrid nodded as she retreated enough to look at him, her fingers raised to trace his lower lip. “Yes, later,” she breathed before she retreated for good. 

Later meant today’s tournament. They wouldn’t be able to interact in any meaningful way, but at least they would see each other. That – and the memories of this wonderful and peaceful morning – would have to be enough for now. 

. o O o .

Yes, she was certain that, eventually, she would need the reminder of waking up in Hiccup’s arms to cheer herself up. But for a while, everything was fine. After Ruff had escorted her back into her rooms, she’d lain down to get a little more sleep, before she was to meet everyone for breakfast again. 

“I can’t believe how much your mood improved,” Tuff muttered as they walked down the corridors and stairs, her steps lighter than she’d felt in a very long time. “I mean, it’s not as if you’ve actually found a solution to your problem yet.” 

He spoke quietly so as not to risk anyone overhearing them, and Astrid replied in the same manner. “Oh, I know we haven’t yet. But I’m positive that we will find one eventually.” Despite Eret’s warning and Hiccup’s reluctance, she hadn’t yet ruled out simply running away. Maybe Eret was right and they would have to somehow prepare their disappearance – somehow avert all the consequences he’d painted out – but that would certainly be manageable… somehow. Either way, she would not let anything come between her and Hiccup ever again, would trust in their love and in the certainty that it would overcome everything. Besides, it wasn’t as if she was important. She wasn’t the heir to the throne, the one who would have to lead the Kingdom one day. No, she was only the spare, nothing less – but also nothing more.

With something of a fond snort, Tuff shook his head but didn’t comment further. They’d almost reached the breakfast room by now, and from some side corridor in front of them, hissed voices could be heard. Curiously, Astrid threw a glance in that direction as they passed the opening and was surprised to spot Snot and his father standing a little distance away. From the way Spitelout towered over his son and Snot’s stony expression, it looked like a scolding. The sight surprised her, but Astrid quickly averted her gaze and hurried on. What happened between Snot and his father wasn’t her business. Although… maybe, if Snot’s behaviour really had returned to that of her joking and funny brother, she’d ask him about it later.

With the truest smile in what felt like ages, she entered the breakfast room and found everyone else already in their seats. After cheerfully greeting the assembled men, she took her seat next to Eret, and gladly accepted the bread roll, butter, and honey as he handed her one after the other. It wasn’t that much different from how he’d usually behaved, but she was aware of the fond smiles the older men threw them, of how their interactions would look to them. When she tore into her food with gusto – not even remembering when she’d last eaten, much less when she’d enjoyed eating anything – it even earned her some low but friendly chuckling from the end of the table where her father and the Grand Dukes sat. But she didn’t pay them any attention either. Of course, they thought her good mood originated from Eret, and for now, Astrid was happy to keep it that way. Well… it wasn’t her fault when they drew the wrong conclusions, was it? It meant that nobody would pay Hiccup any mind, that he was safe. 

Thinking about him made her smile even brighter, remembering how she’d spend this night, short as it was, safely encased in his arms. She really hoped Ruff’s idea to get them more nights like this together again would work. She couldn’t wait to go back to him, his warmth, the soothing reassurance that they wouldn’t part again. And, to be honest, she also couldn’t wait to feel him again, his hands and lips on her skin, searching and exploring, pouring heat and pleasure into her body until she couldn’t take any more. She didn’t fool herself, knew that they would need a little time to reconnect to that part of their relationship – not to mention the mortifying realisation about how Tuff must have overheard them in the past and how she wouldn’t want to risk that again. But all that were questions for later.

“I’m glad to see you smile like this again, Astrid,” came her father’s voice, tearing her out of her daydreaming. “Up until yesterday, I was truly worried about you.”

His words made her grimace, which she quickly hid behind taking a sip of her tea. Yesterday… The ride… Markor… Her heart stuttered painfully at the reminder, but she quickly fought down the pain and instead retrieved the happy memory of her morning with Hiccup, of his kisses and caresses, his smile. She even preferred thinking about the awkward ride back to the castle, about how much easier that could have been if only she’d given in to the urge to lean back against him and let his closeness comfort her. 

The distraction helped her focus again. With everything else that happened, she didn’t yet have time to truly mourn Markor’s death, the loss like a bitter taste in the back of her throat now. But now was not the right time either.

With a bit of effort and Eret nudging her beneath the table, she managed to smile back at her father and reassure him that she felt much better than yesterday too. Which was true in its own way. And… she had to admit to herself that lying to her father didn’t bother her as much as it used to. Deep down in her heart, she understood that he hadn’t meant to hurt her. But that didn’t mean that she was yet ready to forgive him or forget about it. 

After this small exchange, the breakfast continued uneventful for another couple of minutes, until the door opened again and Snot and his father entered the room. 

“Good morning, everyone,” Spite greeted them as they looked up, a tired smile on his face. ”I apologise for the delay; looks like I slept in. Though, after last night, I don’t think you can blame me.” He laughed, followed by consenting chuckling from all around the table. 

Astrid, however, frowned. Why was he lying? Her eyes wandered to Snotlout behind his father; his expression was plain, not showing any reaction, not as they walked along the table and not as he took his seat next to her. 

Well, maybe Uncle Spite was just being lenient, she mused as she reached for another roll. Whatever he’d scolded Snot for, there probably was no reason to expatiate on that here in front of everyone again. 

Her gaze glided over the table, trying to decide what to put on her roll this time, when Snot all of a sudden held out a pot filled with red jam to her. 

“Here, I recommend you try this,” he said with a smile that was too smooth for her taste. “It only arrived last week with a merchant. The berries used for this only grow in the higher regions of Westhill and are considered a delicacy.”

Astrid took the pot, even if a little hesitant. The jam smelled delicious, sweet with a slightly tart note in it, and she wasn’t averse to giving it a try. However, what bothered her was the way Snot was again advertising his home – and thus himself – with this recommendation. Was he still trying to flirt with her? She’d thought that, after last night, he’d given up, that she’d made it clear that she wouldn’t choose him. But apparently, she’d been wrong… 

The jam was as tasty as it smelled, and with a tense smile, she thanked Snot, but then directly turned toward Eret on her other side, engaging him in some Smalltalk or other. Hopefully, Snot would eventually stop these fruitless advances. Last night, she’d been happy to have him back as simply her brother, but that seemed to have been a little premature. 

. o O o .

The tournament that day was a good opportunity to talk to Eret in relative privacy. Though talking about any sensitive topics in her open pavilion still wouldn’t be prudent, and even though Astrid wished she could also invite Dagur and Hiccup, she couldn’t do that without it seeming odd. So instead, she brought up another topic, hoping to get some clarification from Eret. But it seemed as if he was just as bewildered by their brother’s behaviour as she was.

“I don’t really know what’s up with Snot either,” Eret said with a shrug. “He hasn’t really talked to either of us since all this started, and only runs around in a bad mood all the time. He’s not his usual self.”

Astrid nodded, noticing the deep-seated confusion on Eret’s face. Apparently, Snot’s behaviour didn’t make any sense to him either and was possibly even more confusing to him. She knew that the boys had always been a tight group; Snot not talking to anyone these days was just weird. 

“I just don’t get it,” she eventually sighed. “I didn’t have the impression that he was in love with me, not like that. There never were any indications, were there?” 

Eret shook his head, though hesitantly. “I… don’t think so. But from what I’ve got, he hasn’t flirted with a single woman except for you these past two weeks – which is odd as you have to admit. And even though I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, it almost seems as if he’s serious about wanting to marry you, for… for better reasons than mine or Dagur’s…” He sighed, a sad expression on his face, but then frowned. “Except... that makes even less sense given his past behaviour. I mean, he vehemently refused to spend a night with Cami, and...” he trailed off, frowning at that memory, but then shook his head again. “No, I can’t even guess what’s on his mind lately.” 

The thought made Astrid sad somehow. Had Snot, her brother, really harboured some hidden crush on her all these years? The idea felt weird, but given how little experience Astrid had had on that matter before she’d met Hiccup, who was she to tell? But even if… Even if her heart wasn’t bound to Hiccup’s in so many ways, the idea of marrying Snot of all people had never even crossed her mind. 

She kept brooding over the thought in silence, comparing Snot’s too-smooth smile this morning with Hiccup’s warm and loving one, until Eret sitting up straighter drew her attention. He was avidly watching the fighting ground below them, making Astrid pay it more attention for once, too. Today, the participants got paired randomly and were supposed to fight two versus two, showing how well they worked with a partner. And now, it apparently was Dagur’s turn. They watched him entering the arena with three other men, watched them pull coloured marbles from a small bag to decide on the pairings, watched the men take their positions. 

Next to her, Eret grew visibly tense, and Astrid couldn’t help herself but place a comforting hand on his upper arm. Dagur was a good fighter; surely he would make it out of this unscathed. 

And he did. He and his partner fought well, working together to keep each other’s backs clear while the other two just tried to gain their own advantage. The duel was over quickly, Dagur and his partner the undisputed winners of the match. 

“Did you really doubt his skills?” Astrid teased Eret as he relaxed again. 

Eret snorted. “These fights aren’t just about skill,” he emphasised. “Sure, having it helps, but it’s also a lot about luck. And, in this case especially, about your partner and how well you work together. And no matter how much luck or skill one has, injuries or worse are always a possibility.”

Astrid nodded, grimacing at the point. She’d grown a little numb in this regard over the last two weeks but that reminder had torn off the bandage anew. Eret was right, of course. Injuries and accidents were possible; she’d even seen them happening practically every day during this tournament; one man just this morning had slipped in the mud and gotten run through by his opponent’s sword. Said opponent had been shocked and jumped back from the dying man as if burned. And in the melee the day before yesterday, another man had lost his eye, gashed open by his opponent’s shield. Still others had lost fingers or toes or worse. Fortunately – if such a word could be used to describe such waste – these accidents mainly seemed to happen to men she didn’t care about at all, and who weren’t the most loyal vassals anyway, according to Eret. 

“Right, I need to get ready now,” Eret interrupted her musings as he got up from his seat. “It’s supposed to be my turn soon. Wish me luck that I get a sensible partner,” he added with a wink that probably was meant to be reassuring and cheerful. 

Astrid grimaced; after his words from only minutes before, this now wasn’t exactly encouraging. But she played along, if only to not make him nervous now. “Oh, don’t you dare get killed on me now, Sir Eret,” she called after him, making him grin before he slipped out of sight and into the tent where Hiccup would be waiting with his gear. 

Exhaling deeply, she sat back into her comfortable armchair and watched the current fight with little interest. Oh, how she wished these fights and tournaments and hunts would stop now that she’d supposedly chosen her future husband. She wasn’t going to change her mind, not because of some man or other proving to be an impressive fighter, at least. If only Hiccup could somehow be allowed to participate. It would be a long shot; to make her change of mind believable, he’d have to be outstanding – which, according to his own words, he wasn’t. But it would at least be a possibility. 

With a soft shake of her head, she let out a sigh. There had to be a way! Hiccup had yet to tell her what exactly he’d seen in his vision, but if it had been enough to revive his hope, then it was enough for her, too. There was a way, a solution. They just had to find it. 

For a little while longer, she pondered and brooded until Eret entered the arena, followed by Hiccup who carried his spare shield and weapon – and also followed by Snot and his squire Gustav! 

Astrid felt herself sit up straighter in surprise at that; she hadn’t thought it possible for two of the ducal heirs to end up together in one of these duels. But then, even that decision came by drawing lots, and it had happened before already with Eret and Dagur fighting together in that melee a week ago. 

However, she had a bad feeling about this, somehow. If they ended up as opponents, would Eret be able to fight Snot for real? Only last months, she would have laughed about such a coincidence; her brothers were used to sparring with each other, after all. They’d probably knock out the other two fighters and turn it into one of their usual training fights. 

But that had been then. Today, Astrid had no idea how Snot would behave. Anxiously, she awaited the drawing of the marbles – and exhaled in relief when it turned out that Snot and Eret would fight together instead of against each other. A little calmer now, she leaned forward, watching as all four men took their places and the referee gave them the go to begin. This was the best option she could’ve hoped for. She didn’t want her brothers to actually fight against each other, especially not with Snot’s weird behaviour lately. But if they stood together to fight, then nothing could go wrong, right? 

Except that Snot didn’t stand with Eret. 

It only took a couple of seconds before it became clear that Snot had no intentions to work with Eret in this. He charged forward at his opponent, leaving Eret to fend on his own against his. She could even hear Eret’s curse as he realised what had happened, saw the surprise and then the anger on his face, even through his helmet’s visor. Yes, fights like these didn’t only depend on skill, but also on luck and on your partner. And at least in that last regard, Eret had just lost. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Astrid hissed under her breath, her eyes never leaving the fighting men below her. Anxiously, her hands clenched at her skirts, her whole body moving along with every one of Eret’s parries, dodges, and strikes. Damn it, this wasn’t the first time she had to watch him fight, and so far, he had yet to be beaten by anyone. Why was she so nervous now? But even though Snot’s stupidity gave the match a bad taste, Eret seemed to stand his ground just as well as usual – in the beginning, at least. 

Astrid only saw it from the corner of her eye, her focus on Eret. But from one moment to the other, Snot was on the ground. He wasn’t bleeding, wasn’t even unconscious. But he’d lost his weapon, and judging by the uncoordinated way he tried to get back on his feet, his head must have been hit pretty hard. His opponent didn’t waste any time. He kicked Snot into the side, sending him back to the ground, then charged to where Eret and the other man were still fighting. Before anyone truly realised what had happened, he attacked Eret’s unguarded back. Astrid yelled out a warning, but it came too late, was only enough for Eret to turn but not enough for him to fully evade the blow. 

Astrid’s scream of denial was drowned out in the general uproar that ran through the crowd as blood splattered the ground. It all happened incredibly fast. Eret whirled at her shout and saw the man coming up at him. He parried, desperately, and the man’s sword, which would have buried itself in his back, cut across his chest instead. Astrid saw his chainmail part under the blow. 

But Eret’s parry was a masterstroke. Operating on what had to be reflex, his blade sliced open the other man’s arm down to the red-stained bone from his wrist to his elbow. 

Gasping, Eret stood, his blade at the ready, even as his shirt and mail were stained with his own blood, and watched his other opponent warily. The man that had attacked him was bleeding profusely and had dropped his sword.

Dimly, Astrid became aware of the referee’s horn blowing, and he and his men, members of the King’s Guard, waded in to separate the fighters, as they always did when the tournament turned bloody, followed by Hiccup and Dagur. They carried Eret off to the healer’s tent, his arms slung over their shoulders, Eret’s opponent getting similar treatment from the guards, as the judges conferred on the scoring.

As order was restored, she was, at first, stunned and shocked. This shouldn’t have happened! Eret had said it so often, had been so sure that his rank as ducal heir would keep him safe from such an open attack. But the risk had come from ‘accidents and injuries happened.’ And not even men of high rank were safe from those. 

And that hadn’t been an accident, anyway. 

With her head spinning, she got up on shaky legs, her arms reaching out for something to stabilise her as she stumbled away from her chair. She had to get to Eret, had to know that he was okay. This was her fault; by singling him out, she’d painted a target on his back. A target the man he’d fought – some firstborn son of a count from Westhill, she vaguely recalled – had tried to score on. 

“I have to get to the healer’s tent,” she muttered as Tuff tried to bar her from leaving her pavilion. 

He didn’t seem happy about that idea. “Milady, I don’t think–”

But she cut him off directly with a determined gesture of her hand. She could imagine all the reasons he might come up with for why that wasn’t a good idea. This tournament was for her, and she should stay here and watch. A healer’s workspace could be an ugly place with blood everywhere – not the right surroundings for a lady. And since the patient was her public betrothed-to-be, she would do good at staying away when he very likely got stripped to get treated – for both propriety’s sake and to keep that target from getting bigger. 

But none of that mattered. 

“Get me to Eret!” she ordered, and there had to have been something in her voice or her expression that kept Tuff from objecting further. It also kept any guards and servants from blocking her way, even made the men outside the healer’s tent step aside as she approached with sure strides. 

“How bad is it?” she blurted out as soon as she entered the tent, even before she could take in anything else. Offhandedly, she registered the scene in front of her; Eret was lying on a bench in the middle of the room, naked from the waist upwards and groaning in pain, with Fishlegs examining the gash on his upper chest and Hiccup hurrying about, his arms laden with healing supplies – while Dagur was sitting on Eret’s other side, holding his hand and murmuring encouragements. 

Right… Fishlegs might not officially know about Eret’s and Dagur’s feelings for each other, but thanks to Heather they certainly weren’t a secret to him either. At least in this regard, they wouldn’t have to keep up appearances around him. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Fishlegs commented absentmindedly, still entirely concentrated on his work at hand as he reached for a piece of cloth to clean the wound. “It’s a deep cut, but luckily nothing but a flesh wound. The ribs beneath are unharmed and no sinews or major blood vessels were hit, either. It’ll scar, but he’ll live, barring infection."

The words were reassuring and part of her former tension floated out of her. She stepped a little closer, her eyes trying to examine the wound herself. But even though she understood the meaning of Fishlegs’ explanations, all of his lessons had only been theoretical so far, and all she saw was a gaping wound and too much blood. She thought about sitting down at his side as well to lend him support and comfort, but quickly decided against it. Dagur was doing a great job there already, clearly enough. 

So there was little she could do but watch in silence as Fishlegs cleaned the wound, flinching every time Eret grunted or groaned in pain. A part of her, the part that she’d tried to ignore during the past two weeks and that now was stronger than ever, was acutely aware of Hiccup’s presence, of him standing only a few steps away now that Fishlegs had everything he needed to treat his patient. But this wasn’t really the moment to seek his closeness, not while Fishlegs could notice and not when all she could worry about was Eret and his wound. 

The only warning then was Fishlegs throwing a quick telling glance up at Dagur before he applied a good amount of willow bark tincture onto the wound. Before, Eret had been able to stay relatively quiet despite the pain he had to be in, but with the sting and burn of the tincture, he couldn't do so any longer. 

"Oh, fuck!" he cursed, his entire body going rigid, trembling with the effort to at least hold still. 

Astrid whimpered, her hands clenching at her skirts. "I'm so sorry!" she whined once Eret’s shouting had calmed down to laboured panting only. "This is my fault. If I hadn't chosen you, hadn’t put that target on–"

"Nonsense," Eret interrupted her through gritted teeth. “Accidents happen in tournaments.”

���Bullshit,” she spat. “I know that, but that's not what I'm talking about. This man, he was trying to kill you. I saw him! He went straight for you after he knocked Snot down.”

“Given that I was fighting his partner, of course he did! He’d already taken Snot out, as you said–” 

“Eret, you didn’t see him, he was going to stab you in the back!”

Eret scowled. “Maybe. And thanks for the warning, by the way. But it could have just been the heat of the moment, with his blood up. It wasn’t necessarily about you.”

She scowled and crossed her arms. “Uh-huh. Complete coincidence that the man publically favoured as the Princess’ betrothed-to-be almost comes down with a bad case of ‘sword in the back’? Pull the other one, it’s got bells on it.”

“He is right in one thing, though,” Fishlegs threw in, and she turned to glare at him. He met her gaze with equanimity. "It could have just been the heat of the fight," he continued, rummaging about with his tools. "I've certainly seen worse wounds lately, without such a possible motivation. It’s pure luck that neither of you got injured before, if you ask me." 

"That’s true. Or if that’s not good enough for you, Swanja: it also could have been purely politically motivated," Eret added, grimacing as Fishlegs probed his chest. "Could you be a little more gentle there, my good healer?” 

“I’ll go get my feather-needles,” Fishlegs deadpanned, and Eret snorted. 

“Just keep the red stuff on the inside,” he joked, and Astrid rolled her eyes.

Dagur smirked. “This is an excellent opportunity to prove something I’ve been wondering for a while, actually.”

“What’s that?” Astrid asked. She threw Dagur a quick glance, and saw that he was feeling just like she did: not in the mood for joking at all, but playing along for Eret’s sake.

“Well, we know his granddad doesn’t have a heart, and his dad has pragmatism instead of blood, so...”

“I think I can say that I have both,” Eret grunted, and looked back to Astrid. “Look, it might have just been someone stupid enough to think that taking out a ducal heir would gain him some recognition. Instead, he'll probably get excluded from the tournaments, maybe even punished further.”

Fishlegs, threading a needle with a focused look, said, “No need for that.”

“What do you mean?” Eret asked.

“I saw his arm when he was carried in,” Fishlegs said. “Why do you think the junior healer is attending to you, Sir Eret, ducal heir of a grand duchy, and not the senior healer? t’s near-certain that the man who attacked you will lose the arm, and also possibly his life if the bleeding can’t be brought under control,” Fishlegs said grimly.

Silence reigned for a moment, and Astrid wasn’t sure how to feel about this. Another unnecessary death, one that also might or might not be her fault… but it certainly wasn’t hitting an innocent man!

Then Eret coughed, thankfully breaking the silence. “Either way, the only one to blame for me getting hurt is that man, and probably myself – but definitely not you, Swanja. I should have paid better attention to the entire fight and not just my opponent."

"Or, if you want to put the blame on somebody else," Dagur growled, "then my suggestion would be Snot. What was that idiot thinking? It's not as if he doesn't know how duels like these work. Thor, we've done play fights like this with Daniel ever since we were able to hold sticks. There's literally no sane reason for why he fought on his own like that. Gods, I want to head over and punch him in the face for this idiocy!" At that, everyone just grunted in agreement. 

Biting her lip, Astrid didn't object any further; she knew that they would only come up with more reassurances anyway. But that sense of guilt still lingered.

When Fishlegs was done with his preparations, he handed Eret a sturdy piece of leather with bite marks on it already, and when she spotted him holding a needle and a thread covered in more willow bark tincture in his hand, she realised what would come next. Her anxiety grew as she saw Eret bracing himself against the pain, clutching more firmly at Dagur’s hand, and she tensed as well. 

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, urgently, half expecting to get told off again. But with the leather already between his teeth, Eret couldn’t say anything, only rolled his eyes and threw a strange nod in her general direction. Astrid didn’t know what to make of it, but as soon as Fishlegs had turned all his attention to Eret’s wound again, she understood that the gesture hadn’t been meant for her at all. 

She jumped as a pair of arms wound around her shoulders and waist and pulled her to the back of the tent, though not out of direct fear as she recognised them as Hiccup’s right away. No, it was the fear of how Fishlegs would react as Hiccup pulled her into his arms and against his chest that made her want to draw back at first. But, of course, Fishlegs was too absorbed by his work to notice anything else right now and he had his back toward them anyway, so she gave in.

Hiccup held her tightly, turning her so she couldn’t watch and murmuring reassurances into her ear to drown out Eret’s noises of pain. They all knew that it was necessary to suture the gash, but that didn’t make it any easier – for anyone. No, all she could do was try to not make it harder for Eret by showing how much his pain affected her too. 

Instead, she pressed harder into Hiccup’s embrace, clinging to his formal squire outfit, and let his presence soothe her. A small voice inside her head was scolding her for this, for seeking Hiccup’s comfort when Eret was suffering because of her, of them. But she vehemently pushed it aside; Eret’s pain certainly wasn’t Hiccup’s fault. The target on Eret’s back was there, regardless of whether her choosing him was real or not.

She fought to calm herself, but no matter how sensible all their reasoning before had sounded, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that Eret getting wounded today was her fault, and hers alone. It didn’t matter whether one wanted to put the blame on Snot or Eret's attacker; in both cases, the reason behind it certainly was Astrid’s choice. She didn’t believe in an otherwise politically motivated attack, not with this impeccable timing. 

Thuggory had even warned her that something would happen to her chosen if she didn’t choose him. Was it possible that he somehow was behind this? Eret had been lucky in that the attack had only caused such a relatively light wound, but so easily it could have been a lethal blow. And obviously, his high rank wouldn’t have saved him either. 

She didn’t get the chance to further ponder on this, though. Hiccup did his best to distract her from such gloomy thoughts. Despite her worries over Eret’s well-being and flinching at every muffled noise of pain, she eventually gave in to Hiccup’s efforts. She made herself focus on every single one of his light touches and even enjoyed the way he caressed her and covered her face and hair with soft soothing kisses. It wasn’t enough to forget what was happening behind her or why – but it felt good nonetheless.

She wasn’t sure for how long she stood like this, closely encased in Hiccup’s arms and with his lips on her ear murmuring sweet nothings, with Fishlegs patching up the wound with moss and a tight bandage, with Dagur and Eret engaging him in a conversation to keep him from paying much attention to his surroundings, and with Tuff conveniently standing in the way should Fishlegs turn around anyway. It could have been only minutes or maybe it was over an hour. She knew that she was pushing her luck by refusing to step away, but she just felt as if she needed Hiccup’s closeness to cope. Last night and this morning had been good, but it had been far from enough to fully chase away the anxiousness and the pain of their separation before. It might have been her worries for Eret that had made her come here, but now that she knew he would be okay – and already was fairly okay with Dagur comforting him – she couldn’t help but give in and bask in Hiccup’s warmth. Their love was like a shield to ward off all the pain and misery around them, impenetrable and keeping them safe no matter what. 

But she really shouldn’t have pushed her luck.

She didn’t even notice as the entrance of the tent flapped open and someone came in. In fact, nobody seemed to notice at first, the men caught up in their conversation, until a loud exclamation and the noise of a plate breaking on the floor drew all their attention. 

“No!”

With a spark of her old panic, Astrid whirled around and away from Hiccup, just as everyone else turned toward the newcomer as well. Tuff even made a hasty step to the side to stand between her and Hiccup and the entrance, but it was too late. 

Heather had seen enough to understand and, judging by the anger on her face, didn’t like what she saw. Before anyone could react, she stormed through the tent and grabbed Astrid by her arm. “Don’t you dare,” she shrieked, apparently not caring for her rank in the slightest as she pulled her away from Hiccup’s side with enough force that it hurt. “Don’t you dare ruin this.” 

Astrid could do little but stumble along, bewildered when she spotted tears forming in Heather’s eyes, accusation and a kind of pain on her face that made her tremble. But before she could even try to make any rhyme or reason of her behaviour, Heather let go of her arm, nearly causing her to fall if Tuff hadn’t caught her, and turned toward Hiccup instead. 

“And you,” she continued without pause, making a baffled Hiccup take a step backwards at her approach. “Stay away from the Princess. I don’t care how impressive your seduction skills might be; she’s not for you! Do you hear me? Get lost, there’s nothing to gain here for you except the noose!”

At that, Astrid froze, eyes wide in panic. No! No, Heather couldn’t tell anyone, couldn’t get Hiccup punished, not now. She couldn’t! She wanted to interrupt Heather’s tirade, wanted to order her to be quiet, to make her understand. She wasn’t sure why Heather was reacting that strongly or what it was exactly she could do to keep her from running directly to her father, but she just had to do something. However, before she could make any attempt at getting her body to react as it was supposed to, Dagur beat her to it. 

“Heather, what–” he tried to interfere, to distract or even to calm his half-sister. But all it gained him was her turning on him and Eret next. Her angry expression grew even more intense as she stomped through the tent until she loomed over them, ignoring her brother and glaring down at Eret instead. 

“I can’t believe it,” she hissed. “I know it’s all just an act, but still. Setting your squire up to seduce your bride, using him as some kind of bait or toyboy for her to fool around with, and all just because you’re not interested and don’t want to face reality – you should be ashamed of yourself!”

“Heather, calm down,” Dagur interrupted her again, more firmly this time. “That’s not what this is about at all. Listen, I–” 

But he got no chance to explain further. 

From one second to the other, Heather became eerily quiet, and even though Astrid couldn’t see her face, it had to be quite intimidating as not only Dagur but also Eret and even Fishlegs clamped their mouths shut as she turned toward him.

“Don’t you dare!” she spat. She was shaking now with livid rage. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down or that this is not what it looks like. I know exactly what this is about. It’s about you being a selfish ass, about to ruin my life without even batting an eye. Or can you look me in the eye and swear on all that’s sacred to you that this is not about you all pretending for Astrid and Eret to get married, when in truth, you’re only looking for a way to circumvent your responsibilities.”

A stunned silence spread through the tent. Dagur had his mouth open to protest, but couldn’t get a single word out. And Astrid couldn’t even blame him. Heather had nailed it – even though in a completely different way than she thought. His eyes darted from Heather to Eret then to her and Hiccup and back to Heather before he closed his mouth again

“That’s what I thought,” she said bitterly. “But if you think I’m just going to stand and watch then you’re wrong.” 

She turned and was about to leave when Dagur caught himself again. “No, wait!” he exclaimed, reaching out and catching her by the arm. She fought against his hold, but he wouldn’t budge, even pulled her back until he had his arms around her. 

“Let me go,” she wailed. She was still fighting her brother, but without any true force anymore. Instead, she looked as if she was about to burst out into tears at any moment.

“Not until you tell me what all this is about,” he grunted. “What do you mean by ‘ruining your life’? I’d never do something to harm you, don’t you know that?” Still holding her tight, Dagur turned her around in his arms as Heather seemed to deflate until her head leaned against his chest and her tears were soaking his tunic. 

After all of these years married, Astrid guessed that Fishlegs knew by now that it was better for him to keep out of any arguments between the siblings. But even as he’d clearly wanted to support his wife just now, still being busy with Eret’s wound had kept him from interfering – until now. “It’s… because of your father,” he threw in, cautiously. “And the succession.”

Astrid was on edge, watching the scene in front of her intently. Dagur seemed to have Heather under control for now and he certainly was the best one suited here to talk sense into her anyway – but that didn’t mean that Astrid would let her ruin everything. She was tense, trembling even, and ready to jump in should Heather make another attempt to run away. 

So, at first, she didn’t quite appreciate Hiccup approaching her again, much less wrapping one arm around her waist from where he stood half behind her and half to her side. Didn’t he understand how much was at stake right not? But when she turned to look at him, to make him understand why she had to interfere, he shook his head. 

“Let Dagur handle this,” he whispered with a strange expression in his eyes. “If it’s about their father, you can’t do anything here.”

She wanted to argue – but after only one heartbeat, she closed her mouth again and nodded. He was right; if this was in some way about House Berserker and their family, then they had to clear this up themselves. 

Still ready to interfere if needed, she let Hiccup pull her closer to him. It wasn’t an obvious gesture that would draw Heather’s attention again, but still soothing enough, and only now did Astrid realise how much she’d been shaking. And despite the disturbing scene in front of them, she couldn’t help but lean even more into him, seeking his closeness as she tried to make sense.

What was all this about? House Berserker’s line of succession? How was there any room for arguments? Dagur was the sole heir and that was it. Wasn’t it? Astrid was relieved that Heather didn’t seem to care about her and Hiccup directly, but that only eased the situation so much.

Dagur seemed equally puzzled though. “What?” he asked, bewildered, and kept glancing from Fishlegs to Heather and back again. “What’s that supposed to mean? What has Father to do with any of this?”

Heather scoffed, her eyes growing hooded and angry. "You don’t get it, do you?” She pushed herself away from him again, and this time he let her as it was clear that she wasn’t about to run away again. Not yet at least. “If you know how and where to listen, the rumours are clear enough. Even I have heard about you moaning into a cup of ale by now, about how you’d rather get a clean death on the battlefield then die slowly of a broken heart married to someone you don’t love.” She laughed bitterly. “So, of course, Father heard about that too, that you’re considering taking the warrior way out. He even came up with an emergency plan already, a loophole. And a while ago, he came to our home to tell me about it.” She made a subconscious step toward Fishlegs, one arm wrapped tightly around herself. “If you died or,” she glanced at Eret, “did something else that would keep you from inheriting, then my child will be on hook to take your place.”

Astrid’s eyes widened in disbelief, and judging by the silence that followed her words, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. 

“Y-your child?” Dagur eventually inquired, puzzled. “But that doesn’t make any sense. If you or any other of our sibling could inherit then there wouldn’t be a problem at all. Aren alone would make for an excellent leader in my stead,” he went on, referring to their younger brother who’d joined the Order of Odin, if Astrid remembered correctly.

Heather sobbed, even though she still sounded angry. “Yeah, we can’t inherit. We might be his acknowledged children, but the Law says that any child born out of wedlock or by an Ástir cannot inherit, or be a part of a noble House,” she spat bitterly.

Dagur shook his head, confused. “But… you’ve known that, and you’ve even told me that you’re happy about that. Haven’t you said – more than once if I recall – that you’re even glad not to be noble, with all those puffed-up lords and ladies in Southshore?”

“Aye. And that’s still true,” Heather huffed. “But think it through, brother. Children born out of wedlock or by an Ástir can’t inherit.”

Dagur nodded hesitantly, obviously trying to find what the loophole was. Then Astrid had to muffle a gasp when it hit her.

“Yes, the Princess got it,” Heather said sourly. “My child wouldn’t be the child of an Ástir.”

“Just a former one,” Astrid said numbly.

“And born in wedlock and an undisputed descendant of our father... apparently that’s good enough,” Heather confirmed in a bleak voice before it grew thick with tears. “He said he’d only... only take them if you were to die on the battlefield before you produced an heir, but…” again, her eyes flickered to Eret, “but we both know that’s not the main problem. You don’t want to marry, ever, so it’s inevitable. He’ll take my baby away from me! Justin and I wouldn’t even be allowed to come too; he’d just take them away and raise them as his own. And all just because you are too selfish to stand up to your responsibilities!”

Her voice had become thinner with every word, and for another heartbeat or three, all that could be heard was her sobbing before Dagur apparently caught himself again. “I didn’t know that,” he muttered, a troubled grimace on his face. Then he shook his head. “It’s true that I said something like that once, but… but I didn’t mean it!” Heather just stared at him with teary eyes, and he started to babble. “Odin! I’d never actively try to kill myself, no matter what. And even though I’m not exactly looking forward to a political marriage, I know about my responsibilities. But with knowing this, I have even more reason to stand up to them. I-I will take my place and prove to Father that he doesn’t need to bother you with this. Believe me, Heather, I won’t let anyone take your child away should you ever have one; not even our father!”

Another sob tore itself from her throat, louder and more urgent. Fishlegs, who’d just finished patching Eret up and had cleaned his hands, finally stood up, and Heather accepted his embrace gladly. She muttered something that sounded like “But that’ll be too late,” though Astrid wasn’t quite sure whether she’d understood it right. Dagur seemed equally confused, but before he could react, Eret preempted him.

“You’re already pregnant, aren’t you?” he said quietly. His skin was still covered in cold sweat from before, but despite the slightly dazed expression on his face, there was a clarity in his eyes that left no room for doubts. And it made sense, Astrid realised. The way Heather had begged her to marry Dagur or Eret, to separate them so that they would focus on their duties as heir instead. But also how she’d been overly tired, how she would wrap her arm around her midst in something of a protective gesture, how Fishlegs would jump up and prepare a cup of tea for her whenever he thought she needed one, and even the fact that he hadn’t needed that box of moss meant to deal with moonblood anymore – it all made sense now.

Weakly, Heather nodded. “Five months now,” she breathed. “We didn’t even plan for it to happen, knew how risky it was ever since he visited us. But when it did happen… we were so happy.” She leaned closer against Fishlegs, snuggling into his embrace in a way Astrid could emphasise all too well. “We were worried how Father would react if he learned about it, but when Astrid’s wedding was announced… I thought that was a sign from my Goddess herself, a reassurance that I wouldn’t need to be afraid anymore. That everything would be fine, that I would get to keep my child. But now…” She broke off again as fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

With a heavy sigh, Dagur stepped closer to them, his hand reaching for that of his sister. “I’m truly sorry, Heather. I didn’t know any of that. But… but I promise you don’t need to be afraid, okay? You’re my sister and I’d do everything for you. I meant what I said and I gladly repeat it again for you. I vow, by the life of the woman who raised us both and who we both love dearly, that I won’t let anyone take your child away from you!”

A faint smile crossed Heather’s face but didn’t reach her eyes. “I’d like to believe you,” she whispered, and then glanced at Eret on his bench. “And yet, here you are, still holding on to your impossible feelings for each other and even luring Astrid into your charade to cover for you. All just to stave off the only option that won’t end in even more people getting hurt. It’s only a few months now, why-why can’t you just accept it?”

Dagur opened his mouth to reply but closed it again right away. And what was he supposed to say anyway? Astrid vividly remembered Dagur placing his weapon to Eret’s feet during the tournament a week ago, remembered the short conversation they’d had afterwards. Eret and Dagur already had accepted their fate, long ago. Their love wasn’t what Heather needed to be concerned about...

“But he’s right,” she interjected on Dagur’s behalf, drawing everyone’s attention. Maybe it would be better to let Heather believe what she’d just said… but she owed it to Eret and Dagur to set this right. “What you saw… that wasn’t about Dagur and Eret at all. It… it’s my fault. It’s me who…” She trailed off again, unsure what she even wanted to say. It was her fault that everything was so complicated – because she couldn’t bear the thought of a life other than at Hiccup’s side. 

Trying to make a point, she blindly reached for his hand on her shoulder, weaving her fingers through his as she held Heather’s gaze. She wanted her to understand. That she loved Hiccup, that he was more than just a distraction, her end of a deal. He was her soulmate. They loved each other, couldn’t live without each other. This had nothing to do with Eret or Dagur or her or anyone else. 

And really, there was understanding in Heather’s eyes – but not the slightest hint of compassion. Mutely, she wound herself out of her husband’s arms, crouched down to pick up the shards of the plate she’d dropped earlier, and then turned to leave. 

“Wait!” Dagur quickly caught her by the arm again, not with as much force as before but still enough to make her pause. “What are you going to do now? Will you… tell anyone?”

Oh, please not! Astrid prayed inwardly. If Heather told anyone… No, that couldn’t be happening. They had to stop her, somehow, just– 

But Heather shook her head. “No,” she said in a bleak voice. “No, I won’t spill your secrets. I… I trust in your integrity, Dagur, that I can rely on your promise. But just to make this clear: if I ever have to choose between my hard-earned happiness and my loyalty to you nobles who wouldn’t stand up to your responsibilities… then I know my choice already.” She gave them all a last hard glare, then pulled her arm out of Dagur’s hold and left the tent. And even though Astrid wanted to be angry at her for this clear show of defiance... some deeply buried part of her couldn’t even blame her. 

Responsibilities… 

Yes, they all had a lot of them. Their lives came with many privileges compared to those of lower birth, and even though it wasn’t always easy, it certainly was simpler than that of many others. But this life came with a price, with responsibilities they all had to the people. They had to keep up stability and peace, had to follow the rules… 

Needing his support, she turned to look at Hiccup again. She hoped to find comfort in his eyes, the reassurance that their love would endure every storm. As long as they had each other, nothing could go wrong, their love shielding them from everything. 

But instead of that reassurance and comfort, all she could find in his eyes were desperation and pain. 

He didn’t give her the chance to drown in those emotions, though. Instead, he pulled her into a tight embrace, his panted breaths heaving against her neck – but Astrid had seen enough, understood. 

What had just happened with Heather… it didn’t affect her and Hiccup, not directly at least. Marrying Dagur had never really been an option and she fully trusted in his integrity anyway, so her and Hiccup looking for a way to be together didn’t make a difference there. 

But that wasn’t the point anyway. 

Their last resort… it wasn’t something they could do for real, she understood that now. Hiccup’s reluctance and Eret’s warning from last night, it all made sense to her now. No matter how strong her love for Hiccup was, it wasn’t worth everything. Even though she might want to, she couldn’t just run away from her responsibilities, not when that meant putting others in harm’s way. 

And Eret had been right. Eloping just like that would not just be risky and most likely not work; it would also cause some serious political consequences, for House Jag’r but also for the Crown in general. Maybe things were different, maybe nobody would suffer from her actions as directly as Heather might suffer if Dagur wouldn’t be able to keep his promise. But that didn’t mean that she could take that risk lightly. There would be accusations and possibly even actions against Eret and his House, and people would lose their trust in House Hofferson too, in her Father and in Daniel. No, those weren’t things she could risk. Their love might be like a shield, but that didn’t mean she could hide behind it and ignore everything else. 

With a low whimper, she pressed herself closer to Hiccup’s chest, felt how his arms around her tightened. A future without him wasn’t an option, but how could they reach it, that vision of their simple home? 

More of Eret’s words from last night crossed her mind, about how there might be ways to prepare their disappearance. So far, she hadn’t let herself think about that too much, but now… How could they prepare her running away with Hiccup without it causing such a political uproar? 

The answer was as simple as it was impossible. The only way for her to escape her golden cage was the same Dagur had apparently also already thought about. She’d have to die – except not for real, of course. Because in opposition to Dagur, her death wouldn’t harm anyone. She’d only have to fake it convincingly enough so that nobody would have any doubts. 

Something like a hysterical laugh escaped her, one that directly changed into quiet sobbing. How were they supposed to pull that off? How could she make people believe that she was dead without a body? Because killing someone else who vaguely resembled her and mutilate their body to hide the differences was out of the question. 

No, this wasn’t a sensible option either. She’d probably ponder more on this, but…

She pulled back, catching Hiccup’s wondering gaze for a heartbeat before she stretched to press her lips to his. He caught up to her mood without a pause, hurling her as close as was physically possible and kissing her with the same desperation she felt, too. 

There had to be a solution! There had to be a way to make her choosing Hiccup as her husband possible. There still would be people who’d complain, but as long as he was legally eligible that wouldn’t matter.

They just had to find it…

. o O o .

So, erm... that was that. I honestly never thought the day would come where I shed even one tear for Heather... But writing this chapter certainly made me do so a lot!

[mythicamagic]

Swimming in Silk - chapter 19

Training in front of her, engaging her in conversation and now lending her his clothes…Kagome is starting to suspect that Sesshoumaru is trying to gain her attention.

Sesskag - Romance, Humour, Drama, Angst

Rated M - As always you can read this story on Ao3, fanfiction.net or Dokuga

Chapter One - here                Previous Chapter - here    Next Chapter - here

AN: Sorry this chapter is all over the place, I still didn't fit in everything I wanted lolol good news though! After this depressing chapter, the angst won't be so heavy in this fic anymore x

Haunted Hounds~

After wading through the shallows to shore, Kagome peeled her sodden sweater off, sighing as she wrung the waterlogged material. Inuyasha promptly shook himself, soaking her anew.

"Gah!" Kagome sputtered. "Can you not?"

"How else am I supposed to get dry?" He grunted, white hair puffing up under his cap.

She couldn't help but giggle. "You're not, be cold and suffer with the rest of us."

By the time they'd padded up to the huts, Kagome was positively shivering. The ocean was a quiet crash of waves behind them as lights suddenly flared to life in various windows. The covers over doors were thrown back, and various demons rushed out, raising weapons with wild, fearful eyes.

Kagome quickly raised her hands, "we come in peace!" She squeaked, spying a familiar face among them, who lowered his axe. "Kaito!"

The demons paused, frowning and looking at the dark haired man. "General, do you know them?"

"Ah! That's Lord Inuyasha," said one.

Inuyasha acknowledged them with a grunt. "Lower your damn weapons."

"Yes, do so. The Lady of the Western Lands stands with him," Kaito said, eyes gentling slightly. He shifted on his crutch, raising a hand to her and beckoning. "Come, my Lady. Everyone else, go back to sleep," he dismissed. The demons murmured amongst themselves, wandering back into their huts. Kagome padded into the hut Kaito indicated, Inuyasha following.

Inside, Inukimi adjusted her silks, covering bare shoulders. Kagome caught a glimpse of fresh bite-marks and cherry red hickeys before they were hidden, causing her to blush.

"W-we didn't mean to disturb you so late!" She glanced at Kaito, now noticing his rumpled clothes.

"Hush. Time-travel is not known for being considerate," Inukimi gave a soft laugh. With her hair down, she looked simultaneously radiant and decadent in her loose clothing.

"It smells like sex in here," Inuyasha grunted, yelping when Kagome stamped hard on his foot.

"Zip it!"

Inukimi laughed, fixing the futon and smoothing the covers as Kaito sat down beside her with a grunt, resting his crutch down. "Adorable. I'm surprised you're familiar with the smell, Hanyou."

"Shut up!" he barked, cheeks blooming red.

"Lady Inukimi?" Came a gentle, feminine voice. "What was all that just now? Shippo thought he sensed-" the cover over the door was tentatively peeled back and a taller Shippo peered in, along with a girl who Kagome vaguely recognised.

She gaped when it clicked."Shiori?"

"Ah, Kagome!" Shippo darted inside, scooping her up and hugging so tight her bones protested. His head came past her stomach now.

"Wow, lookit you! So tall," she wheezed, giggling and wrapping her arms around him, lifting so that his feet left the floor. At least she could still do that.

"It's lovely to see you again after so long," Shiroi murmured, folding her hands neatly in front of her and bowing. The previously petite child had matured, becoming a young woman perhaps a little younger than Kagome. She still wore a modest white yukata, but her face had lost most of its childish features. Those violet eyes remained as kind and sad as they were before. The miko suddenly remembered her mother, and realised she must have passed, leaving the hanyou alone.

Smiling gently, she blinked when Shippo detached himself from her and immediately hugged Inuyasha, who bristled. He made to say something, before closing his mouth and setting his rough hand on the fox's red hair.

"It's been a while...little brat."

"Hmph, it's not like I missed a big bully like you," Shippo mumbled.

Blue eyes shining bright, her chest warmed. Turning to the others, she voiced the thought that had been with her since surfacing: "Where's Sesshoumaru?"

Their expressions immediately shuttered, some unreadable or awkward. Ice shot into her chest, hitting the bullseye of her heart.

"Don't worry," Shippo immediately soothed, straightening. "He's just uh…sleeping right now."

She blinked, giving a relieved laugh. "Well duh, it's late at night. Heh, you all looked weird for a sec there."

Inuyasha's ears flicked under the cap, heavy brows drawing into a frown. "Spit it out, Shippo." He growled. "You ain't explainin' everything and no doubt it's some crap that'll just worry her later."

Surprisingly, it was Shiori who timidly spoke up.

"Our village is home to many different kinds of demons. The majority of them are survivors from the West's fall that happened 10 years ago. They fled here, and we sheltered them, or some joined us of their own accord like the wolf demon tribe led by Kouga. When they came, Lord Sesshoumaru was among them, so he picked up the mantle to lead again."

"That's not surprising," Kagome tilted her head.

The Hanyou fiddled with her sleeve. "It's just that…concerns have been raised about the amount of sleep our leader gets."

"Yeah, because it's not healthy." Shippo snorted.

Inukimi huffed, lighting her signature pipe and inhaling. "Ridiculous. He's perfectly fine. How do you explain his performance in the fighting pit? Resting isn't a crime. He defeats challengers when required," she uttered darkly, words flowing out with the exhale of curling smoke.

Shippo throws his hands up, bristling. "Lady I don't wanna get into this with you again! Sleeping for 18 hours is not normal!" He burst, flashing small fangs.

Differing energies crackled in the air, raising the hair on Kagome's arms. She'd never seen Shippo argue so boldly with someone collected like Inukimi. "That's…that's enough you two, please calm down," she tried to wrap her head around everything.

"The fuck? 18 hours." Inuyasha grumbled. The strict and disciplined 'Killing Perfection' sleeping so long sounded ludicrous. "Where is he now?"

Kaito spoke up, absentmindedly sharpening his weapon. "In a cave not far away, located within the cliffs. He rarely shows himself, but always makes an appearance at the pits."

"Fighting…pits, right?" Inuyasha's ears twitched.

"Guessing that's exactly what it sounds like," sighing, Kagome tried her best to ignore her mounting worry. "Okay, let's backtrack. You said it's been 10 years since the big battle. How many years ago did Kouga and Sesshoumaru arrive?"

Shippo rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, two?" Seeing the look on her face, he added. "We've tried talking to him but he doesn't want to see anyone. He's…changed so much, we've got no clue how to help."

Sensing her turbulent emotions, Shiroi spoke up. "I'll ask Ayame to take you to him tomorrow."

"Ayame?" Kagome croaked.

"Mhm, he only wakes up during the day if her cubs go to bother him," Shippo offered a weak smile.

Unbidden, Kagome answered it with a small one of her own. You've always been pestering him to do things, huh Riza?

With no alternative but to sleep, Kagome left Inukimi's hut, deciding to rest with Shippo. Glancing behind her as she settled down on a futon, she noticed Inuyasha taking a seat. He'd followed without a word, and now rested his faithful sword against his shoulder, closing tired gold eyes.

Kagome also spied the two white-haired fox sisters curled up together in their true forms. She supposed they must have moved to the village along with Shippo at some point, and wondered what had become of the Fox clan. Shippo curled up with them, and Kagome loosely curled her arms around herself, shivering and closing her eyes.

-------

Sleep proved to be a flirtatious but unobtainable friend. A burst of loud noise, that of high pitched yips and barks, broke her out of her dozing. With her eyes still in the process of opening, Kagome shrieked when tons of bundles of fur landed on her stomach. Countless wet noses and tongues attacked her cheeks, causing her to burst into startled giggles.

"Oi! What did I say?" A familiar gruff, masculine voice barked. "Settle down and get off her already!"

Kagome laughed, setting her hands on the wolf cubs that kept climbing over her, occasionally licking the miko while ignoring their father.

"OI!" He called again, before being nudged aside.

"OFF!" Ayame snapped, voice dark and green eyes blazing.

The countless amount of cubs immediately scrambled off, looking at their parents in the doorway with perked ears and expectant faces.

Picking herself up and wiping the slobber from her cheeks, Kagome noticed Inuyasha and the foxes had already left for the day.

A whine sounded out, "Ayame! I told ya to let me handle it this time. If ya keep butting in, they're never gonna listen to me!"

"You were taking too long," his mate flipped some firey red hair over her shoulder. "Besides, you let them rudely wake up Kagome. You call that handling it?"

Kagome's cheeks hurt, and she touched her mouth, finding she was smiling too wide. But she couldn't help it. Not wasting time, she rushed forward. The two wolves abruptly stopped when she wrapped her arms around them, resting her face against their shoulders.

"K-kagome? What's wrong?" Kouga mumbled, resting a large hand on the small of her back. A strangled, happy sound reached their hearing.

"Nothing, I'm just...really happy. So happy," she breathed, squeezing them. "Seeing you both safe is a big relief."

Pulling back and grinning tearfully, Kagome ignored their perplexed looks. It was one thing to hear they were safe in the Future but was another to actually see, hear and touch them. It made her long for Sango and Miroku.

"Thank you so much for finding Sesshoumaru and helping him. You saved him," she rambled, causing Ayame to laugh gently and nudge her.

"It was no trouble. C'mon, I'm sure you want to see him. You can cry on us some more later," she said, tucking Kagome's hand through her arm.

"Hey! I haven't seen her in ages," Kouga soured, watching as the miko was ushered outside.

Ayame glanced over her shoulder, smiling flippantly. "You've seen her now~ are you saying you're more important right now than her mate?" She asked sweetly.

Kouga's shoulders fell, expression shifting into a grumpy, accepting one. Letting herself be tugged along away from the huts, Kagome held on when the cubs followed, racing through their legs and causing her to trip on the sand.

"Careful!" Ayame growled at the bundles of fluff.

Smiling and carrying on along the shore in the morning light, Kagome walked them play and leave tiny paw-prints in their wake. "It's kind of strange, seeing you guys with kids."

"Heh, it feels strange for us too. Still doesn't feel real even after two years."

They approached a cliff with numerous crags and splits, which had eroded into caves and openings. Nerves erupted into her stomach. "...Shippo said he's been like this since arriving," Kagome murmured.

A snort sounded out close to her ear. "Honey, I've been baby-sitting this Lord for at least five years. He hasn't changed since Kouga first found him all injured. Hasn't shifted out of his true form once from what I've seen."

The words made dread pool in Kagome's stomach, along with a hard lump of sadness in the back of her throat that was difficult to swallow. Jaken had mentioned once, in passing, how true forms often dulled more complicated emotion. Demons merely became creatures of instinct.

Is it...less painful for you this way?

"I remember first seeing him. I'd been told stories about The Killing Perfection ever since I was a cub. A God on the battle-field. But he was just an abandoned, lost puppy. Still is," Ayame lifted a shoulder. "Aside from when he's in the pit, I honestly find it difficult picturing him conquering anything. Don't get me wrong though, our tribe kind of like him after he aided us getting here. I was heavily pregnant at the time and heh, let me tell ya; walking through human territory in that state was not fun! But ole' Ice Prince woke up enough to protect us during the journey. We lost men during the battle of the Western Lands though so, I guess to him it might've been paying his debts."

There came a beat of silence between them, the words left hanging in the air. Eventually, Kagome spoke once more, voice subdued. "I keep trying to get used to everything changing...but the second I get my head around a place it's already shifted."

Ayame smiled. "I might not time travel but it's still changed too fast for me too. At least there's always a place for you, no matter where you drop in, right?"

Kagome blinked, smiling gently and nodding.

They reached the mouth of the cave, Kagome's boots crunching on the pebbles and stone. The spray crashed against the nearby jagged rocks, flicking water up near them. He's really picked a remote spot, she thought, glancing at the distance from the village, which was in view but far off.

The cubs stopped to play, biting on a piece of driftwood while Kagome and Ayame padded inside. The shadows of the cave swamped in. All noise felt drowned out within the large space. The crunch of their shoes echoing too loud. To the side lay remains of animal bones and carcasses, everything beyond the light of the entrance drenched in dark. Yet on the edge of the light, silver fur glinted.

A large body shifted, around the same size as she'd seen him before, that of a large bear. His true form looked much healthier at least. Well fed, unharmed. Yet scars crisscrossed certain areas where the fur was thinner, no doubt more hidden by the lustrous fur that flamed around his shoulder. He slept on despite their presence.

"Oi!" Ayame growled. "You have a visitor. Wake up!"

Sesshoumaru stirred, opening one groggy, ruby eye. He stared at them listlessly for a moment, before closing his eye again, seeming to fall back asleep.

"Hey!" Ayame barked, only to be drowned out as a flood of yips and galloping tiny fluffballs racing around them. Uncaring of their sleeping mountain, the cubs bound atop the Daiyoukai, nudging and sniffing at him.

Sesshoumaru didn't stir, despite their antics. A low sound built in the back of his throat however, the more they tugged at his ears or tail. Unfortunately, they didn't seem deterred by his grumbles.

Cuuute, Kagome couldn't help but think. "They seem to like him."

"You know what kids are like. Don't know to be afraid of something most would faint in fear of." Ayame smiled, before frowning at the dozing Daiyoukai. Growling, she sank to one knee, plunging her fist into the ground. The walls around them trembled with distress, and the cubs yipped with alarm, huddling around Sesshoumaru.

"HEY! This girl time travelled for your ungrateful hide!" She bellowed. "She came here just to see you! The least your sorry ass could do is say hello!"

Sesshoumaru's tail flicked out, sending a cub rolling free from its personal tug of war. He huffed quietly, giving another low noise and shifting so that he was turned away, back facing them.

"If he doesn't want to see me, Ayame...it's okay," Kagome said, watching quietly.

Ayame growled, straightening and putting her hands on her hips. "It's weird, almost like he doesn't believe you're really here or...doesn't want you to be?" She then winced, glancing at the miko. "Uh, I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine," Kagome soothed. "I'm going to um, stay here for a little while. Just in case he changes his mind."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded distractedly, watching every inhale and exhale.

"Alright, but I'm only leaving you for an hour. Shippo will come fetch you. It isn't healthy to stay here alone."

"Sesshoumaru's alone."

"By choice!" Ayame tsked. "It's true he was injured, and the battle at the Western Keep probably took a toll. But everyone else has tried to move on. They might still revere him as Leader, but honestly he needs to be defeated soon and replaced if we're gonna progress. Otherwise, we're all sitting around waiting for him to get better."

It occurred to Kagome then that no one else knew. Sesshoumaru probably hadn't told anyone what he'd been through with the monks. They just thought he was pining for his lost house.

Kagome assured her she'd be fine, waiting until she left along with the rambunctious cubs, before turning to Sesshoumaru. Without their presences, the cave was plunged into silence, save for the tumble and crash of waves against rocks outside. Sitting down, she wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them to her chest, just listening.

Little by little, she inched closer. Carefully, agonisingly gently, she reached out and lay her palm on his side. The jagged bite mark on her arm pricked, and her body tensed, but he didn't stir. Lithe fingers combed through damp fur, untangling it. He felt warm and steady, much better than his previous trembling, but she could sense the undercurrent of something. A great tired weight on his chest that caused every draw of breath to seem like effort.

"I don't know why I wanted to see you while you were still recovering. Maybe it was just me being full of it, thinking I could be the one to heal you. Seriously...I'm an idiot," she chuckled quietly. "But here you are, wounds closed. Healthy. Least that's what everyone thinks, mn?"

She didn't know if he were listening or could feel it, but she stroked her hand through his fur all the same. "I get why you didn't tell them about the monks. Too proud," her lips curved into a wobbly smile. "But Shippo would help if you opened up to him, I'm sure of it."

His lids remained shut. Her fingers lightly slid over his muzzle. You were like this when Rin died too...just trying to sleep it off. So many bad things have happened to you, I bet they've mounted up. Why don't you ever talk to anyone, you beautiful dumbass?

Leaning down, Kagome rested her head against his back. "It's going to...get better, you know?" She murmured. "Not to be patronising, but it will. So for now, if this is what you need, to be comfortable, then that's okay. Just...don't sleep forever," turning her face into the warmth of his side, she trembled.

"I'd miss you too much."

--------

She stayed with him until Shippo came to collect her an hour or so later. Kagome didn't check her watch to know, just let time disappear. Leaving without a word or fuss, Sesshoumaru did not stir without her presence.

"Are you alright?" Shippo immediately checked, padding back with her along the beach.

Unprompted, Kagome smiled gently, causing him to blink. "Yeah. I think since I can't help Sesshoumaru this time, I'll focus on doing what I can around him."

"Meaning?"

She hummed, "well, why were the demons last night showing their markings and claws? On the outside, this place looks like an ordinary village, but I can feel a barrier around it. Wouldn't it make sense to start covering up their demonic features so that everyone can hide in plain sight without wasting energy on that?"

Shippo smiled, tilting his chin up to look at the morning sky. "You don't miss much. That's been a huge thing lately, big mess. No one wants to start posing as humans except the foxes, Shiori, and a few of the wolves."

"Why?"

"They refuse to unless their leader does it first. Set an example. But it's like he's doing the opposite, lounging in his true form all the time."

Slowly, the pieces started to fit into place. Now she understood Ayame's frustration. Shippo continued, sighing. "Sesshoumaru's the strongest, as proven every week in the pits. Hence he's the leader. If someone could just beat him in the fighting pits, someone who gets that we need to change to survive, then we could really pass ourselves off as a human village. We'd be so much safer! Plus that way us foxes wouldn't have to be the ones going to neighbouring villages for supplies. Shiori wouldn't exhaust herself by keeping the barrier up too. We're sitting ducks like this."

Kagome nodded seriously, mind whirling with the new information. "When's the fighting pit next open?"

"Tonight. It's held over there," Shippo pointed to the opposite cliffs and caves, situated nearer to the village and on the right of the shore, where Sesshoumaru's was on the far left. Isolated.

"Great, I'm heading there tonight."

"N-not to fight, right?"

She laughed. "No Shippo. If I beat him and became leader where would that leave you guys when I disappeared? I just want to watch."

Shippo exhaled with relief, smiling up at her. Tentatively, she offered her hand.

Green eyes flickered with surprise, and it occurred to her how much older he'd become. She shouldn't have done it, he wasn't a little kid anymore. He'd survived war and-

Shippo's hand slid into her own.

Emotion welled up inside her and when he gave a squeeze, and she felt that he'd done it more for her sake than anything else. Kagome squeezed back with gratitude as they walked in step back to the village.

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

That night, Kagome walked among the crowd through the narrow passages in the caves. They walked with torch in hand, until the rocks bathed in orange hues gave way to a giant opening, fit for the hall of a King.

Kagome followed the demons to the rings that looped around the massive pit in the centre of the floor, almost like they were in a colosseum. The cave seemed to have been carved, paving seats for them, so she took one. Glancing to her left, she found Inuyasha, who had decided to follow. He frowned, ears pressing against his skull.

Sesshoumaru's form became visible after a moment, climbing down into the room via one of the higher openings in the cave and making his way to the pit, jumping in and waiting with a tired sort of expectation. The demons in the crowd glanced around, muttering to themselves.

Finally, a challenger Kagome didn't recognise jumped into the ring, bulls horns protruding from his head. With a blast of yellow youkai, his form melted into a demonic bull, tossing his head and rearing on hind legs.

Everyone watched with bated breath as the fighting started without introduction.

Two forms collided, roughly slamming into each other. Kagome noticed that while they used no real techniques, more throwing weight or striking, they each avoided using their deadly weapons of poison, teeth or horns if they could help it.

Sesshoumaru ended things by moving with a burst of speed, leaping atop the bull, which was struggling to get up. A large paw slammed down into its jugular, bracing his weight and opening large jaws, pining the burly demon down via rows of deadly teeth on ethier side of him. Sesshoumaru held him there despite the kick of frantic hooves beneath him.

Eventually, the bull made a noise, and Sesshoumaru backed off, panting.

"He's...like a stray dog or something," Inuyasha mumbled, ignoring the cheer from the onlookers.

Kagome glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"When demons communicate, it's like human speech, just different. Gestures and stuff. But even using that, it's like he's completely closed off. He might still fight well, but he's not the taunting asshole I know. The hell happened to him?"

"He got hurt, badly," she murmured, not wanting to say more than that. It felt like a betrayal of trust to explain, for some reason.

"Oh for goodness sake," came a voice behind them.

Kagome turned, looking at one of the higher stands and spotting Inukimi. Her eyes were on the pit, so the miko shifted to look. She then gaped.

Kaito limped into view, facing Sesshoumaru while leaning on his crutch.

"You foolish oaf! What are you doing?" Inukimi stood from her seat with a rustle of silks, glaring.

From within the pit, the General glanced up at his Lady, mouth curving. He lifted a shoulder, giving a sad, rueful smile. "We can't live in the past, my Lady. I should at least try to end this stagnation."

Kagome's eyes widened. Kaito who had been so proud he'd all but rejected her as Lady of the West. Kaito who hated the House lowering itself. It was he who stood before his lord, discarding his crutch.

Blue light coated the dark-haired Generals form. Smoke billowed out, slowly sighing away to reveal a three-legged black inuyoukai. He leaned forward, equal size to Sesshoumaru, who growled softly.

The two leapt, meeting with a clash of hard bodies. Black and white fur met again and again, demons trying to topple the other. A few times their paws swiped out, hackles rising as they snarled, teeth starting to snap and bite. Their forms chased each other around the pit, colliding into the walls and causing the structure to shake.

"Crap, Kaito's really letting him have it," Inuyasha muttered.

Seeing Kagome's questioning look, he scratched his cheek. "Let's just say he's yelling at the Bastard and telling him to wake up and fucking lead already. Sesshoumaru is pissed-"

A hard-hitting sound echoed off the walls as Kaito hit the floor a moment later, his single back leg giving. His jaw smacked hard against the ground as Sesshoumaru remained atop him, pressing him down and snarling quietly.

"What's Sesshoumaru saying now?"

Inyasha tsked. "...For Kaito to find someone strong enough to take over or leave him the hell alone."

When the dust settled, Kagome watched as the silver inuyoukai padded around the pit like a restless tiger. Kaito's black form receded, his more human appearance returning. Taking up his fallen crutch, the General gingerly got to his feet and limped away.

When no other challengers stepped forward, the fighting pit drew to a close.

------

She'd asked around, but apparently, defeating Sesshoumaru was indeed the only way to seize control over the village. Even if she could win, Kagome also asked if she could pass on the mantle immediately after- only to be shut down and told an 'outsider' like herself wouldn't be accepted as a leader in the first place.

Kagome thus spent her week helping Shippo and the other foxes. Kouga and some of his wolves had unfortunately left to run an errand. Despite how busy she kept, she always noticed the lack of Sesshoumaru's presence. Visiting him had only become possible in the evenings she was so tired, helping newer arrivals construct a hut. On one day she walked the road to the neighbouring human village and helped load supplies onto the wagon, discussing trade. Pushing some hair back from her eyes, Kagome sighed.

"It's hard work, mn?" Shiori smiled knowingly, tending to the horses.

"Sure is. How are you able to leave the village and move around if you're...you know," Kagome glanced at the humans walking around. She cupped a hand to her mouth and mouthed: 'using your powers.'

Dark eyes danced, her hanyou features under a glamour. She beckoned, and the miko leaned in, watching as Shiori opened her pocket, revealing a glowing orb.

"Oh, you had something like that last time."

"Yes, but I was being used back then. Now I'm...happy to be of use to the village, even if I wish everyone would be a little braver," Shiroi said gently.

Kagome nodded, brows drawing together. "You feed your power into that and it projects a barrier around them, right? You must be exhausted all the time," she said, eyeing the pallor of Shiori's usually darker skin with thin lips.

"E-excuse me, are you a miko?"

Turning, Kagome faced a nervous looking man.

"Yes, hello?"

"Please," he took her hand. "My wife is giving birth. I-I don't know what to do, please help! Our village priestess is away visiting friends. Please!"

Everything else fell away as Kagome nodded seriously. "Don't worry, I'll come. Shiori, can you-"

"I'll come too."

With a nod, the two women rushed to aid the man and his wife.

------

Kaede's teachings had certainly come in handy. It had felt kind of surreal, holding the newborn. Whenever she'd helped deliver in the past, Kaede had always been the one easing the child out, taking the lead.

Shiori had been a massive help, advising whenever the miko had become uncertain. It was clear the woman had more experience.

Washing her hands for the umpteenth time, Kagome padded back to the village with the hanyou.

The foxes and cart had left hours ago ahead of them, the sky darkening to lush purples.

"Kagome, do you think it's possible for Lord Sesshoumaru to still lead?" Came the quiet question.

Feeling caught between a rock and a hard place, Kagome sighed. "...Not right now," she admitted. "He seems to just be attending the pits out of necessity. If...if you ask me, it looked like he almost wanted to be defeated," she murmured.

Shiori nodded, raising a hand to her head. "I worry that- that soon raiders will come, and our village will be snuffed out just like the Great Houses. If we got attacked, I don't know if my barrier will hold. That's what I'm...afraid of…"

"Shiori?"

Glancing at the Hanyou, Kagome squeaked in alarm, catching the woman before she fell. Feeling her blazing forehead caused clammy sweat to cling to her skin. "Shiori! Hold on, w-we're not far from the village!"

Awkwardly ducking, Kagome lifted her onto her back, supporting Shiori under her thighs. But the days work had significantly weakened the miko and she only managed to make it down a hill before stopping. Panting, she sank down to her knees. I can't just leave Shiori to get help, what am I going to-

"Kagome!"

Lifting her head, gladness filled her heart.

"Inuyasha!"

With the smell of sea-salt clinging to him, Inuyasha leapt down from the trees, racing towards them on the path. "The hell happened?"

"Shiori fainted. I think she's done too much today, or maybe...all week," Kagome murmured, wondering quietly.

Inuyasha removed the weight from her shoulders and hitched the woman onto his back. "Let's hurry then, don't slow me down, idiot," he muttered almost affectionately. Kagome smiled despite the situation and followed, hurrying after him.

As her feet pounded on the path, Kagome watched as he took off in front, bounding ahead. Strange, nostalgic feelings wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She shook her head and raced quicker in the direction of the sea.

------

A fire flickered in the centre of the largest hut. Within, the majority of the village residents lingered, waiting for any sign of change from Shiori. They drifted around, looking a little lost.

Shiori herself lay on a futon, breathing shallow. Kagome had done everything she could think of to bring her temperature down. Nearby at a low table, Inukimi poured over scrolls and paperwork, frowning at the disturbance.

"What happened to her?" Ayame peered down.

"She was overworked!"

A few demons glanced at Inuyasha, vague guilt passing over their faces.

"Cease your yapping." Inukimi sighed. "I dislike children who shout."

"Tch, what? You'd rather I was more like Sesshoumaru, keeping my trap shut?"

"Preferably. He always was quiet, even as a pup. Granted he did cry at first, but ignore them long enough and they learn not to make noise. Obviously, it's a lesson you were never taught."

For some reason, though the comment hadn't been meant as particularly malicious, Kagome thought of Sesshoumaru's scars. Of him. Alone, quiet and drenched in the dark of the cave. Not making a fuss. Hiding his distress. The pain so keen he couldn't bring himself to see anyone lest they think him weak.

She stood, hands balled into fists as a low fire churned in her gut. "All of you are cowards," she muttered lowly.

The demons instantly bristled, but she didn't care. Tip-toeing around them achieved nothing. "Shiori is like this now because you're too afraid of change. She's been managing the force field and helping everyone, keeping up appearances with glamour. Not just her but the foxes and wolves. The rest of you are falling behind, don't you understand that?"

"Shut up! What would a human know of it?" One growled.

"I know you all loved the House of the West!" She burst, brows drawing together. "It's that love...that fuels your protectiveness over your markings and features. Your heritage and species. That's why you don't want to cover them up. It would feel like a betrayal. It's why you won't act on your own despite Sesshoumaru not really leading you."

A low growl sounded out, and Kagome was surprised to find Inukimi's narrowed gaze on her. "You dare call yourself his Mate and then encourage us to go against him?"

"He's not given you any orders!" She snarled, reiki and a skitter of hot, familiar youkai curling out of her bite mark. Sesshoumaru's presence loomed over her aura, lending weight to her words. "He doesn't want this position at the moment. The way I see it, he's fighting out of obligation for tradition. And that's what this all is! You're going to die for your traditions."

"Kagome!" Ayame chided.

"Well, they are! You can't stay isolated forever. You're not on an island. Your human neighbours will get curious, and one day they'll bump into the barrier. If the humans see you like this, don't you think they'll retaliate? The time for...surgiving is now. I'm sorry. I wish you didn't have to cover up your marks. All of them are beautiful..." a blue crescent moon on a beloved brow came to mind as she looked around at them, seeing stripes, pointed ears, horns, tails. "All of them. But you have to. It's time you start living for yourselves, not for the past."

Inuyasha's ears flicked, swivelling in her direction as he looked slightly shocked.

"Adapt or die, is it?" Inukimi's words came low and solemn, looking through her. "I recall musing something similar at the burning Western Keep."

Kagome faltered, the energy around her dying down. "I hope your choice isn't the same as it was then..."

"Choice? My fate was decided for me, don't you recall?" She sneered, rising from her low table. "Foolish."

Watching the demoness pass by with a flow of silver, Kagome glanced at the inventory paperwork, feeling her shoulders fall.

------

The night of the fighting pit came around again. Kagome and Inuyasha sat in the same seats as before, her hands tightening into fists, honestly debating jumping in herself. At least it would free Sesshoumaru from responsibility and allow him time to collect himself.

Slowly, she inched from her seat to stand.

"Don't," firm fingers wrapped around her wrist, tugging her back.

Kagome glanced at General Kaito on her right. His back hair fell loose around his shoulders, dark eyes sharp.

"But General I-"

"It is not your fight," he rumbled.

Usually his tone would have riled her enough to disobey, but Kagome found herself weakening. She didn't know what to do. But there had to be something! Otherwise she'd be leaving without having helped at all, and that was the purpose of these jumps, right?

Feeling something brush her side, Kagome raised her head, looking at the blurry image of red and white. Scrubbing her eyes, she blinked up at Inuyasha, who had risen.

Words caught in her throat as Kagome watched him. The hanyou stared down at Sesshoumaru, who paced around the ring, snarling for a challenger. His roars echoed off the walls right into her bones.

Kagome's fingers latched onto his clothes before she'd realised it.

Solid, bold golden eyes slid down to her. Inuyasha's mouth tightened.

"...I gotta go, Kagome."

She stood, babbling immediately. "No you don't. What are you talking about?" She squeaked. "I-If you go and end up winning, you'll have to stay here."

Inuyasha stared back levelly.

Cold fear, sadness, confusion and panic erupted in her chest. "Please don't," she said quietly. "I-I don't know how far away from the Present we are. What if...what if we never see each other again!" Hysteria laced her voice and a few heads in the crowd turned. "I can't take that! You can't disappear from my life like Sango and Miroku! I need you, I-"

"Shut up already!"

Her shoulders were seized in a tight grip, and Inuyasha glared down at her. "That's enough. You don't damn need me!" The shout died in his throat, golden eyes dimming slightly. "C'mon. You haven't needed me for a long, long time."

Kagome trembled in his grip, rendered helpless, like that frightened 15-year old that had stumbled from the well all those years ago.

"Look, I get that you wanted me to stay in your Time. But it's...not where I'm meant to be. Least I don't feel that way. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful," he grumbled, eyes shadowed from his cap. "You and your family made a space for me. They're- you're good people. But I can't exactly fill a role there. I'm just a house guest."

"But you're n-"

"I said shaddap!" He cut her off, growling. His voice soon lowered again, the fight leaving him. "I can't protect them. But I can protect these guys. I was useless in that big battle at the Western Keep and I've felt shitty ever since. Sesshomaru's been leadin' our old man's people for years. They haven't ever accepted me but I can't just ignore em' anymore. And don't start whining. You're the reason I want to protect people in the first place. It's your fault I'm like this now," he grit his teeth, letting go slowly. "So just, remember your own damn goal. That's your future, right there," he said, pointing a clawed finger at Sesshoumaru in the pit. "So keep damn working towards it and quit looking to the past! I gotta...start working towards my own future now."

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched him take a step. Then another. And another, further and further away from her.

His shoulders were broad and strong. Back straight. He walked with purpose.

A harsh sensation, like that of a knee being rammed into her stomach, caused Kagome to bolt forward, burying her face in his thick hair. She clung to that strong back, wrapping her arms around him and trembling and sobbing. Because now she knew.

Even if Inuyasha lost this fight, he'd be staying the Past no matter what. And there was nothing she could do to change his mind. I don't want to lose anyone else. Inuyasha is supposed to be...supposed to be my rock.

A coarse palm, rough from years of scrapping, slid over her hand.

Her breathing hitched. The tears felt hot, thick and ceaseless.

"I would have died with Kikyo if it weren't for ya," he grumbled lowly. "I'd be in the netherworld embracing her. But instead, I've kept my life. So let me do something with it, Kagome." The waver in his voice strengthened until it was all she could hear in her ears.

Finally, finally, Kagome's hands fell.

His form immediately jumped into the pit, discarding Tetsusaiga and his cap. Sesshoumaru fell quiet, tail flicking out as he raised his head.

"I hear ya became pretty useless, bastard." Inuyasha taunted, rolling his shoulder as his ears twitched. "It's been a little while since our last proper fight. I'm in the right mind for it now, so let's go."

His smaller form leapt into the air, and Kagome gasped as Sesshoumaru met him with a crack of blazing with red energy. From within the haze, their bodies came flying out, the Daiyoukais transformed. His clothes looked less pristine than usual, skin ashen, something in his face looking tired, but focused on Inuyasha. He met every punch and kick with one of his own, tossing his brother into the ground. The Hanyou turned mid-air, landing on the balls of his feet and pushing off again to strike.

As they fought, Kagome felt a smaller hand wrap around her own. Frozen, she only sat down beside Shippo when tugged. The entire crowd watched silently, the air hanging heavy.

Harsh snarling and strikes of claws bounced off the walls.

Inuyasha picked himself up and threw himself into the wall that was Sesshoumaru again and again. Catching his fist, the Daiyoukai tugged on it with a deceptively small movement and Inuyasha lurched forward with his whole body, stumbling after the hand Sesshoumaru led him by like a puppet on strings. A classic taunting move.

Subverting this however, Inuyasha planted his foot down, using his free fist and striking. Sesshoumaru's head snapped to the side, gold eyes slightly wide. Inuyasha doesn't wait this time, following one punch with another without hesitation. Fists pummelled. Coarse knuckles split and ran raw as he unleashed the depth of his frustration at his own powerlessness. At change and Time.

For all his efforts, Sesshoumaru swayed on his feet, expression unreadable under the scrapes and bruises. Inuyasha panted, eyes having bled red, lips peeled back. Even feral, a part of him couldn't understand why. Why his formally proud, nightmarishly strong brother took it. Why he didn't answer with blazing anger. Inuyasha kept punching until ribs and bones cracked, Kagome's cry to stop halting his fist inches from Sesshoumaru's bruised and bloodied face.

Sesshoumaru's jaw moved, before he spat. Blood met the floor, soon joined by knees. The daiyoukai sank down, head bowing and limp hair sliding forward.

Inuyasha snarled with bloodlust, taking a few steps forward- until Tetsusaiga was shoved into his palm. Kagome looked at him searchingly, standing between the two as the Hanyou panted, gripping the sheath as his eyes wavered to gold once more.

Kaito and Shippo exhaled with relief.

Howls and shouts broke out into air, the wolves and foxes singing their praises. Even the other demons looked mildly impressed, but most were astonished.

Heartbroken.

Inuyasha panted harshly, looking up at them dazedly.

The roar of the crowd was lost on Kagome as she turned, words on the tip of her tongue, but Sesshoumaru had already picked himself up, leaving. Glancing at Inuyasha again, she bit her lip, wavering.

Inuyasha tsked, before bending down and retrieving his cap. He then placed it on her head and tugging it down so that she couldn't see his expression. "Go after him, ya idiot."

Feeling the pull of elastic in her gut that heralded Time's approach, she nodded mutely and turned on her heel, racing away.

Thank you, Inuyasha.

Hurrying out of the caves, the noises from behind her grew dimmer as she ran into the night air, holding back tears.

"Wait!" She called, breathless.

His figure was a pale spectre on the white sands, distant and padding further and further away. The sands cushioned her boots, feeling like they were pushing her back, but Kagome raced forward determindly, starting when the tide raced in, waves catching her feet.

"Sesshoumaru!"

The demon halted, and she knew he'd heard her this time. Felt her. But the elastic snapped, and Kagome cried out as the waters turned pink. Her body sank under the waves, feeling the current lash at her clothes and hair as water closed over her head.

No!

Squeezing her eyes shut, Kagome struggled and fought. It was the same as all the other jumps. She'd resist and the waters would pull her quicker and harsher away, stealing her breath. Even as she panicked, the miko forced herself to become still.

To try and think. To reject Time without resisting.

Lungs protested, spouting fire into her throat and tearing her mouth open. Salt flooded in, and she choaked, kicking her legs to push herself up.

She broke the surface a moment later, sucking in gulps of air.

Feeling the tide lull her once more, Kagome opened her eyes. The exact same shore awaited her, and hope fluttered in her heart.

The changed position of the sun revealed she had time-travelled, but how far she didn't know. A warm orange sunset bathed everything in a soft glow, catching on fur. Kicking her legs, Kagome swam for the beach, noticing the tell-tale silver.

Wading out of the water and kicking off her boots, she padded wet foot-prints on the sand, feeling it crunch beneath her toes.

Approaching his sleeping form, she sat down beside the Daiyoukai, taking off Inyasha's cap and wringing the droplets from her hair.

"One good thing about short hair; it sure dries quicker," she smiled, panting.

One red eye peeled open. Sesshoumaru's head remained on his paws, unmoving. Kagome felt saddened to see his melancholy hadn't improved much, but at least he was out in the sun. Looking out at the ocean, she exhaled. I can't believe I was able to come back like this. I-I know in the grand scheme of things this jump might not matter but-

A weight settled on her thighs. Sesshoumaru rested his head down, letting out a long sigh. Kagome blinked down, softening and placing her hand on the crescent moon. Slowly, her thumb grazed the mark, dragging over blue fur.

"Time wanted me to go home but I came right back here. I don't know how long it's been since Inuyasha won, but you don't have to force yourself to heal quickly. Just take your time. I'm sorry if I made you feel...inadequate or something, I was just worried. But I...think I need to apologise to your mom too."

Between one moment and the next, fur disappeared under her fingertips, red steam leaking out from around his form. Smooth skin replaced it, and Kagome smiled slightly. Looking at his handsome face, her thumb automatically stroked the bridge of his nose. Her other hand combed through his bangs, a kind of peace settling over them. Soon however, an idea took hold.

"Do you have one of those pipe things your mom has?" Kagome asked randomly. This time a golden eye cracked open.

"Hn," he opened his juban, parting the silks to reach in and bring out a pipe.

After lighting it, Kagome brought it to her lips and took a drag- bursting into a coughing fit. The bitter taste brought tears to her eyes. Placing her hand on her chest, she blinked rapidly, glancing at Sesshoumaru's perplexed expression.

"I'm trying something, leave me alone," she snipped.

Giving it another go, she managed to exhale the smoke somewhat smoothly this time. Reiki hummed over her skin, and she tried her best to put the image she wanted into the smoke merely by thinking it. She sighed when nothing happened.

"You are doing it wrong," Sesshoumaru croaked, as though unused to using his voice. Sitting up and taking the pipe from her, he tapped the ornate carvings. "You are focusing your powers externally, which is defensive." He said, silken tones returning the more he spoke. "But for this, you must push them back down so that they flow internally. That way, the power will come out on your breath when you exhale."

"O-oh, usually I pull the reiki out of me and concentrate it to my hands to lace with my arrows. So, I have to somehow keep it contained inside me? I've never thought of using it that way. Demons are pretty impressive," she smiled.

Sesshoumaru said nothing, watching as she centered herself. Activating her powers, Kagome fought tooth and nail against the impulse to raise the energy to her skin. Taking another drag, she exhaled unsteadily, seeing the faint pink sparks flow out in the smoke.

"It worked!" Kagome grinned at him, sobered by the way he stared at her tiredly. Her heart squeezed, and the smile on her face fell a little. Even depressed and worn down, he still had the patience to teach her. You're kinder than you give yourself credit for.

Doing it again, this time Kagome pictured a face. The smoke flowed out, collecting into an image. It took a few attempts, but soon enough a gentle, masculine face smiled back at them in the smoke.

"...I do not know him," he muttered.

"Mhm, that's my Papa," she smiled gently, passing the pipe back to him. "He died a long time ago."

Sesshoumaru rose a brow at her expectant face, before he glanced away and closed his mouth over the pipe. Tilting his chin up, he exhaled, smoke producing three inuyoukai's that danced and chased one another in the air, before curling into an image.

"Show off," she teased.

His lips curved slightly even as the wraiths of thick air cleared. A demon with a strong jaw and bushy brows stared back at them.

"Your Father?" Kagome guessed, seeing the resemblance.

"Hn."

The pipe was passed back to her, and Kagome felt pleased he seemed to understand her intention without words. Creating another smoke piece, Grandpa smiled back.

For Sesshoumaru's turn, he exhaled Bokuseno, which made her shoulders fall.

Next for her came kindly Kaede.

For him, bossy, proud Jaken.

Sango and Miroku followed.

Demons she didn't know came from his breath but she could tell from their armour they were of his House.

She exhaled Edo, the village as she'd known it.

He, the House of the West.

When he went to pass her the pipe again, Kagome's hand pressed it gently back to him. Tears swam in her eyes, but she squeezed his fingers, waiting.

Sesshoumaru hesitated, gaze dimming. He then haltingly brought the pipe to his lips and exhaled shakily.

Kagome gazed up at the image of Rin, the smoke curling to give her hair playful whisps. The grey wraiths couldn't help but flow into beautiful blooming flowers to adorn her image.

Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, Kagome noticed his head had bowed, form shaking slightly.

"Sesshoumaru…"

Sliding her arms around him and tugging slightly, Kagome braced herself against his sudden weight as the Daiyoukai drooped into her, resting his forehead in the crook of her neck. She smoothed her hands over the plains of his back, murmuring soft comforts.

"It's alright," she soothed. "It's okay."

He didn't make a sound, but something wetted her skin, and Kagome gathered him closer. Sesshoumaru did not mourn loudly, and there was more going on than simple grief. So, when the tremors subsided, Kagome kissed his neck and touched his torso, sliding the material of his clothes back from his shoulders. He wore no armour so it parted easily.

His once almost pristine body held multiple scars now, as she'd suspected. They'd carried over from his True Form no doubt.

Patient hands slid over lean muscle, touching the damaged flesh. Sesshoumaru kept his head on her shoulder for a moment, before lifting it. Those weathered gold eyes shifted over her face, leaning to rest his lips against the side of her head, inhaling her scent.

The ageless tiredness of his body relaxed as she slid her hands over him, stroking, trying to soothe. Kagome touched every scar available and bent to kiss them, until they lapsed into simply laying and holding one another on the beach. Sharp claws combed through her short hair with vague confusion, so she held his face in her hands and kissed him again as assurance, shifting on the sand.

Soon, the tide swept in, waves rising up to claim the lovers in its embrace.

Answering quiet laughter joined the crash of surf on the rocks.

[cottontail20]

A Legend All Their Own, Chapter 35: A Promise Of Forever

Summary: Wanda and Vision make new promises to each other

Ao3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/16736589/chapters/43678766

They stayed at the campsite for about a week, while the Avengers and the Asgardian army helped the people of Stanville repair any damage that had been done to the town during the battle.

Wanda spent most of this time with Vision, tending to his wounds. When Vision felt up to it, he tended to Wanda in return, though Wanda's injuries did not need quite so much tending. She rarely left the tent except to fetch their meals, or herbal teas that would aid Vision's healing. With his permission, Vision became Wanda's guinea pig in a small experiment to see if her powers could be applied to healing- focusing her energy on helping his broken ribs knit back together.

She couldn't say for sure whether the bones were completely healed, but the bruise over them was fading at a faster than average rate, and Vision said his pain had definitely lessened after her ministrations, which Wanda took as a good sign.

They hadn't yet had their important talk. About Wanda's decision on what she wanted, what they were to each other, what happened next.. That would come, when the time was right. For now, it was just nice that they didn't have to hide. No one said a word when Wanda crawled into her tent to hold Vision as he slept. --

One night, Vision sat bolt upright, frantic.

"Peter! Peter was with me in the woods.."

"Vizh.." Wanda woke at his exclamation. "Vision, it's okay.."

"P-Peter, he.."

"We found Peter" Wanda spoke quickly, trying to calm him. "He's back in Asgard. A few bruises, but he's okay. He's safe.."

"He's safe?" Vision looked into Wanda's eyes, his own still wide and panicked.

"He's safe" Wanda nodded. She pressed soft kisses to Vision's forehead, his nose, his lips, smiling at how quickly the gesture relaxed him, and gently pulled him to lay back down with her, her arms wrapping securely around him. "He's safe, and so are you.. No one can hurt you now."

"I'm safe.."

"You're safe, Vizh. You're with me."

"I'm with you.." A small smile spread over Vision's face as he drifted back to sleep. --

After a few days, Vision was strong enough to take short walks around the camp. He leaned into Wanda, even when he didn't really have to anymore. Wanda smirked, but didn't mention it.

A few Asgardian soldiers would stop to greet Wanda and bow as they passed by. Mostly out of respect, but some seemed the tiniest bit afraid of her.

"Well.." Vision commented with a raised brow, the ease with which he and Wanda had always talked to each other returning, "You seem to have made some friends."

"I may have needed to exert a little extra royal authority to get your rescue mission off the ground.." Wanda chuckled.

"I told you you'd make a good Queen" said Vision, and Wanda blushed.

"We'll see."

Wanda could be the Queen. She knew now that she had the support of the people. But if they wanted her to take the crown.. She had a few conditions. --

By the time they left the camp to head back to Asgard, Vision was well on the way to recovery, and could easily hold onto Wanda on horseback without her worrying that he would fall. However, she still rode slowly to avoid jostling him too much.

When they reached the gates of the Palace, Wanda helped Vision down from their horse before they headed inside, hand in hand. King Odin was waiting for them.

"So.." He looked Vision over, then Wanda, his single eye lingering on their joined hands. "This is the boy who inspired the Princess to such a grand rescue mission.. I hope you prove worthy of such effort."

"I will try my best, Sir.." Vision bowed.

"He will.." Wanda squeezed his hand, and her eyes flickered red. She was ready to fight for Vision now, if she had to. "He's.. something special."

"Very well.." Odin nodded. There might have been the tiniest hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. "Go get your friend settled back in, Princess Wanda."

Wanda grinned, rushing off and pulling Vision with her

"That went.. surprisingly well" Vision commented.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Vizh.."

"Oh, I'm not.."

Wanda led Vision through the Palace, heading for her room. When they got there, Vision was about to break away and head into the Maid's quarters again- out of habit, mostly- but Wanda stopped him.

"Wait.. with me, Vizh. I think we need to have that talk.."

"Yes.." Vision's heart sped up. "I suppose we do.." --

A few moments later, they both sat perched on Wanda's bed, neither of them quite sure where to start.

Wanda had made a very big, bold move by kissing Vision on the battlefield, laying the truth of them bare for all to see.. and while Vision very much liked to think he knew what that meant, or at least, what he wanted it to mean, but he could not know for certain until she told him.

"I did a lot of thinking" Wanda finally began, "In those horrible few days when we weren't talking.."

"They were horrible.." Vision agreed.

"They were.. But I thought a lot about you, Vizh. How different you are from everyone else.."

"Different how?" His brow furrowed. "Good different.. o-or bad different?"

"Good different" Wanda clarified quickly, taking his hands. "Very good different. Everyone looks at me.. Even my Parents, even Pietro.. They look at me, and they see a title. Princess first, before anything else. But it's not like that with you, Vision. You look at me.. you look at me, and.." Her soft green eyes locked onto his strange, vibrant blue.

"And?" Vision gazed into her eyes.

"You see me.. Me, not the Princess, not the Scarlet Witch. You see me first, before anything else. When I'm with you, I can be myself, my real, true self, and not get judged for it. When I'm with you, I'm me. I've never had that before. And because I never had it, I never realised I needed it.. But I do need that. I need someone I can be myself with.. And that someone is you. I need you, Vision."

"You do?" His heart was racing, hardly daring to believe what she was telling him.

"I do" Wanda smiled softly.

"But what about.. Being Queen?"

"Well, I've thought about that too. You told me to think about what I want. I want to be with you more than I want to be Queen. But I'd like to give being Queen a try, because you think I'd be good at it, and I trust your judgement more than anyone else's. So, I have an ideal scenario, if you'd like to hear it.." Wanda paused to kiss his fingers, and Vision's racing heart skipped a beat.

"I would.."

"I was doing a bit of research.. The first Scarlet Witch and her sweetheart, they were a Princess and a Thief, just like us. They got married when she was crowned Queen, and he ruled with her."

"He did?"

"Mmhm. So, if that's an option, that's what I'd want." Suddenly, she seemed nervous. "If I'm going to be Queen, I want you to rule with me. If I was the Queen, I'd want you to be my King."

"Wanda.." Vision's breath caught in his throat, because what she wanted.. She was, in a way, proposing to him. And Wanda's nerves showed that she knew exactly what she was asking.

"And if they can't accept that.. Well, I don't need to be Queen. We'll just run away and build a cabin near our Spring and.."

"Baby birds?" A cheeky smile crossed his face.

"Maybe.." Wanda blushed softly. "So.. what do you say, Vizh?"

"I'm with you" Vision answered immediately, squeezing her hands, happy tears spilling from his unusual eyes. Being with her was all he wanted. The only thing in his life he could ever remember wanting. "Whichever way this goes.. I just want to be with you."

Wanda beamed, grabbing Vision's face and kissing him deeply. Vision returned her kiss, his heart so full it felt like it could burst. To have a life with her.. To have her want a life with him, was more than he ever could have hoped for. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. They only broke the kiss when they were both desperate for air.

"I love you" Wanda whispered, repeating the three little words that had once brought so much trouble, but now so much joy, and Vision said them back without fear.

"I love you too."

"Usually" The Princess continued, "This type of thing comes with a dowry or something.. Money or an elaborate gift.."

"I don't need anything.." Said Vision quickly. "You are all the gift I need.."

"Still the best person I know.." Wanda chuckled. "But I have been thinking. And there is something I can give you, Vision. Something I want for you, for both of us."

"What?" Vision's brow furrowed in confusion. He already had everything he wanted, with her here in his arms.

"Our first time.. It was special, and beautiful, and I treasure it.."

"So do I.."

"But.. now we can have another first time. One where we know what we are, know that we're in love, that we're not pretending" She cupped his cheek, her green eyes so soft as she gazed at him. "I want to make love to you, Vision.. Can I?"

"Okay.." Vision's breath hitched, his mind short-circuiting a little with her question, and that was the only word he could manage. "O-Okay.."

She kissed him then, a soft kiss, so full of love. Vision returned it, equally soft, almost nervous. Wanda's hands moved over him, exploring, rediscovering. Vision shuddered, and Wanda pulled away slightly.

"Vizh?"

"I'm okay.. A few spots are a little tender still.."

"I'll be gentle.." Wanda whispered. She kissed him again, a deeper kiss, her tongue seeking seeking entry into his mouth which was quickly granted, his own tongue eager to tangle with hers. Wanda tasted of apples and cake and candy and sunshine, and everything else that was good in the world.

They undressed each other slowly, like they were opening a precious gift, which was true. To each of them, the other was the most precious gift they had ever received.

For the rest of the chapter, click here:https://archiveofourown.org/works/16736589/chapters/43678766

[linzerj]

Golden Gate’s Heroes

(Hey ya’ll it’s that Venom/Ant-Man crossover fic I promised. It’ll have a few more chapters and maybe I’ll even figure out a real plot for it eventually. The AO3 link will be in the notes.)

---

Scott has got to learn to pay attention to schedules. Or maybe he just needs better friends. Actually, no, it’s probably a combination of those two factors that has led him to his current situation.

“Aw, are you sure you can’t come to babysit Cassie? No, I know it’s last minute, but – well, no, I’m sure I’ll figure something else out. Thanks anyway, Mrs. C.” Scott hung up the phone, then put his head in his hands with a groan.

“Are you sure I can’t just come with you, Daddy?” Cassie asked, bringing him out of his funk. “I can just sit in the lobby and play games on my phone. Or I can even sit in the car!”

“No, Peanut, that’s not fair to you,” Scott said, sinking off the couch to sit next to his daughter on the floor. “It’s my fault that I forgot about this big meeting we’re having. But your mom and Paxton are out of town for the week so I can’t just drop you back off, all the usual babysitters and even the emergency babysitters are all busy, and obviously Luis can’t watch you because he’ll be with me, and then Hope and Hank and Janet are out in NYC trying to not kill Tony Stark as they hash out new Accords amendments now that Jan is back, and….” Scott trailed off with a groan.

“I’m eleven now, daddy. I’m almost twelve! Did you know that when you’re twelve, you can legally stay home alone?”

“Oh really?”

“Well, that’s what the teacher said when she was offering everyone who was already twelve to come take a babysitting course!” Cassie beamed. “I’m almost there, just another three months!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if that would fly with Agent Woo, remember him?” They both shuddered overdramatically, before Cassie sighed.

“I know, daddy. Sorry again.”

“And again, not your fault Peanut, that’s all on me.” Scott grabbed his cell phone again and began scrolling through his contacts list. “I mean, I haven’t called everyone yet,” he narrated when Cassie peered over his shoulder. “Maybe we can find someone on this list who I know that can watch you for 2, 3 hours tops.”

And that’s when Scott saw it, a name he forgot he had in his phone, certain he had deleted it or lost it when he got his new cell. They’d hit it off at an interview before he’d had to go to prison for his big heist, and hadn’t really talked at all since then. It was such a long shot, but everyone else in his contacts had either already said no or lived way too far to make it in time or were Avengers that were doing who-knows-what. There were probably other options in his phone, but, well, it never hurt to try, so.

Holding his breath, he called Eddie Brock.

Eddie’s phone rang while he was scrolling through his Facebook feed in a half-asleep daze. Venom perked up a bit at the unknown number – they loved to take over and scare any telemarketers that called, which was why Eddie rarely answered unknown numbers anymore.

But this one looked – not too familiar, but it had a legit San Francisco area code, and something about those last four digits was ringing some sort of distant bells. So with a shrug, Eddie answered.

“H’llo?” he said through a mouth of Fruit Loops.

“Uh, hey, is this uh, is this still Eddie Brock?” the caller asked. Eddie swallowed his food, ignoring Venom as he manifested a head and started munching on the rest of the cereal, and studied the number with a confused glance for a second. The voice sounded sort of familiar, but it was not immediately recognizable, and Eddie wasn’t sure who would have his number that was unsure if it was him – he’d lost most of his old contacts when he’d broken his old phone, but he’d reprogrammed in all the numbers of important people or people he talked to daily, like Anne and his boss.

“Yeeeeah, who is this?” he finally said after realizing that the guy on the other end of the line was probably wondering what the hell was taking him so long to respond.

“I don’t know if you remember me, but uh, this is Scott Lang.”

And that made everything click into place. “Oh! Yeah, the engineer who broke into that CEO’s house and stole all the money that he’d been stealing! Yeah, how you been, dude? You’re out of jail I see – probably been out a while by now, actually, huh. What, uh, what’s up?”

“Okay so, this is going to sound super weird and I know we don’t know each other very well but you seemed like a cool dude and whatever, and even after all that LIFE Foundation stuff you still seem really awesome, but uh, anyway. I’ve got a daughter, right, but I’m an idiot and forgot to get a babysitter for like three hours while I go do this interview for my new business, and all my other regulars are busy because the universe is awful, and uh, if it’s not too much trouble and you’re willing to do it, I was wondering if you could, uh… just… watch her for like, two or three hours? Please?”

Scott rushed this all out in one breath, and it took Eddie a moment to process it. Some dude he’d interviewed once nearly 6 years ago was asking him to babysit his kid? Venom offered no insight to his problem, focusing on slurping up the remnants of their cereal.

“I’ll definitely pay you, too, and when I’m done I’d be totally down to hang out too, I mean, if you wanted to, I mean, oh god what am I even saying-”

“Yeah sure.”

On the other end of the line, Scott paused. “Really?”

“Sure,” Eddie said again, pushing Venom’s annoying face away as they leaned in closer. “I’m free, got nothing better to do, and you sound super stressed out man, and kids aren’t so bad. Plus I still totally respect you for that heist and exposing that scumbag, even if it was a one-time thing or whatever, so. Yeah.”

“Oh thank you thank you! I’ll give you my address, can you get here – ohhh boy, just, whenever you can? I gotta run ASAP man.”

“Not a problem,” Eddie replied, jotting down the address and grabbing his keys. “See you in a bit.”

Eddie, Venom said as Eddie plugged the address into his phone and started down the stairs of his building, what is ‘babysitting’? Why would we sit on a baby?

“Oh, uh, that’s not – we’re not literally sitting on a baby, love. We just go and watch a child, oh gosh how old even is this kid, oh boy. Well uh, we basically make sure she doesn’t die while her parents aren’t home, and then we get paid money for it.”

Hmm. Humans are weird.

---

Eddie arrived about five minutes after getting the call. He may have sped a little bit, but he wasn’t pulled over or anything, so it was fine.

Knocking on the door revealed Scott, dressed in a suit, smoothing down his hair and obviously trying not to look too flustered. “Okay, hi, Eddie, hi, I’m Scott, I’m sure you figured that out,” he said, extending his hand. Eddie took it and shook it briefly as Scott continued on. “So Cassie is pretty chill, man, don’t worry about a thing, there’s chicken nuggets in the fridge for you guys to eat and you can also have whatever else you want, and don’t worry about feeding Charlie Ben-Ant-e – wait – Cassie where’s Charlie Ben-Ant-e?!”

“Uhhhh… I don’t see him Daddy!” Eddie heard a girl call. She appeared in the doorway, and Eddie supposed this must be Cassie. She looked between ten and twelve, which, okay, that was definitely manageable. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine, he usually doesn’t start his routine for a while anyway.”

“Okay so don’t worry about Charlie Ben-Ant-e at all then,” Scott said to Eddie. “Also this is Cassie, Cassie this is Eddie, thank you again for watching her so last minute for me like this man, I really really owe you one, but I gotta go, bye Cassie be good-” Scott kissed his daughter on the head – “thanks again Eddie, I’ll see you in a few hours!” And Scott was off, running down the road to what Eddie supposed was his car. Well, then.

Eddie turned to Cassie who was looking at him intently. “Uh,” he said. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. She was still watching him. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” she said, still studying him, before grinning up at him and asking, “So you interviewed my Daddy before?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, back when, you know, he was arrested and whatever.” Eddie mentally smacked himself. That is probably not what you should say to kids.

But Cassie surprised him. “Yeah, he’s my hero,” she told him. “I think it was good that he tried to get that money back to the people it belonged to, even if he didn’t do it the right way. But he tried! And when I got to see him again after he got out of jail, I got him this trophy to show him how much I loved him!” And she triumphantly held up a cheap trophy.

“World’s Greatest Grandma?” Eddie asked, squinting at the writing on it. Cassie looked at the trophy then giggled.

“Yeah, it was the only one they had left, but now it’s like our secret joke,” she told him.

Eddie I like this child, Venom said, and Eddie couldn’t help but agree.

---

Eddie was cool, Cassie decided, even if she heard him muttering to himself every now and then when he thought she couldn’t hear. Maybe he was like some of her friends from school, who talked to themselves to keep on track or reassure themselves. There was nothing wrong with that, and she didn’t want to make him feel bad about himself by pointing it out.

But he was pretty funny too. He told her stories about being a reporter, and made lots of jokes like her dad, and grinned when he munched down on some chocolate with her. He asked her questions too, about what she liked and wanted to do, and when she said that maybe she would be famous someday he chuckled and said that she should think of all his questions as a practice interview. She wouldn’t mind having him as a babysitter again, she decided.

But that’s when Charlie Ben-Ant-e decided to make an appearance.

Her daddy had named the ant after a drummer whose name allowed for the ant pun of all his favorite ants. This was the same ant that had fooled the FBI when her dad had to help Hope and Mr. Pym stop the Ghost and save Hope’s mom.

Cassie had been told to keep the giant pet ants a secret from her friends, because people didn’t usually like ants anyway, and the giant ants were kind of scary. Cassie thought they were cute and that those people were dummies, but whatever. Her pet ant Ant-ony Junior lived with her and her mom and Jim Paxton, and it had learned to be very good about hiding when she or the grownups had friends over.

But Charlie Ben-Ant-e had not yet learned this. It still liked to stick to its usual routine, which was why her dad only had over his friends who knew he was Ant-Man, or had other people over when Charlie was sleeping.

So, sure, when Scott had left, Charlie hadn’t been around. That wasn’t unusual – lately he’d taken to wandering the backyard, or napping under beds. But of course, he was still a creature of habit, especially when it came to his food, and the meeting seemed to be running a little longer than expected.

So when Cassie went into the kitchen to grab chocolate milk for her and Eddie, she almost jumped when she saw Charlie Ben-Ant-e. He was scuffling at the fridge door, and Cassie rushed over to grab his designated food from the cabinet instead.

“Here, Charlie,” she said, filling his food bowl more than she should have, but hoping it would distract him long enough for her dad to come home and Eddie to leave. She liked Eddie, and she didn’t want this to scare him away. That would suck.

She grabbed the chocolate milk and some cups and ran back into the living room, where Eddie was looking past her toward the kitchen with curiosity.

“I was just feeding Charlie Ben-Ant-e,” Cassie explained before Eddie could ask. “Hopefully he won’t bother us.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie said. “Is he like, your dog? Cat?”

“Uh, yep!” Eddie totally didn’t believe her, but he shrugged and let it go.

So they sat for a while, sipping their chocolate milk and watching Phineas and Ferb reruns, when Charlie Ben-Ant-e decided to scuttle on by and head toward the electronic drum set.

“Uh,” Eddie said, eyes wide as he did a double take. “Uh, what…. is that Charlie Ben-Ant-e?”

Cassie grinned guiltily, and shrugged, trying her best to look innocent. “Maaaaybe…”

Eddie was still watching as the ant put on the headset and started drumming. “Ben-Ant-e,” he repeated, “Ben-Ant-e. Well. That. That explains the name pun, I guess.”

Cassie looked up at him, slightly concerned. “Are you… going to run away? Or call the police? Please don’t,” she added as an afterthought. “He’s really harmless. We trained him to play the drums!”

“I’m more… confused,” Eddie said slowly, eyes still on the ant. “How did – what – like, how does he exist? And no,” Eddie continued, whispering to himself, “we cannot eat it, stop it Vee.”

And Cassie blurted, “I’ll tell you how we have him if you tell me who Vee is that you’re talking too.”

“Uh,” said Eddie, and then her dad decided that this was the time to come home.

“Uh,” said Scott, eyes going from Eddie to Cassie to Charlie Ben-Ant-e back to Cassie then back to Eddie. “Uh.”

“Uh,” Eddie said again. Cassie decided that sometimes grown men were idiots.

“My dad is Ant-Man,” Cassie blurted, because there was too much tension now and she couldn’t stand it.

“Cassie!” her dad hissed, and she guessed he was upset that she told his secret identity. But what else was she supposed to do? Eddie had already seen Charlie Ben-Ant-e, and he wasn’t running off screaming yet, so maybe he could be a friend.

“What? Oh, okay, that’s, okay,” Eddie said. “So, uh, you were at that airport battle during that Avengers thing, that was crazy, I did a report on that, but uh, are you like an official Avenger then?”

“You’re taking this way better than some people, but whyyyyy does that matter?” Scott shot back, recovering from Cassie’s betrayal. Cassie was curious too, but Eddie did say he was a reporter, so maybe it was his natural reporter curiosity.

“Well, uh, um, uh, I don’t know if you heard about the uh, shhh, the whole LIFE Foundation rocket and human testing thing just a few months ago?”

“Yeaaahhhhhh, what does that have to do with anything?”

“So, they, uh, they had actually brought back these alien symbiotes and were experimenting with them using people, and well, uh, oh god Vee, listen one of the aliens may or may not be a friend but you won’t arrest us for that right?”

“Dude I don’t think I have jurisdiction to arrest you anyway, but I mean, like, what is even going on.”

“Oh god,” Eddie said again, and that’s when a weird black slime tentacle thing branched out of his shoulder, which formed a head with white eyes and very sharp teeth.

“Hello,” it said, and Eddie put his head in his hands.

“What the he-e-eck,” Scott said, stumbling backwards.

The black goo thing sprouting from Eddie grinned. “We are Venom,” it – they? – explained.

Cassie thought that Venom looked kind of cute in a weird way, and so she voiced her thoughts. “You’re kinda cute, in a weird way.”

Venom swung its head toward her, a long tongue sticking out of its mouth. “Cute? Eddie, tell the child we are not cute! We strike fear into bad guys!”

“I mean you are kinda cute when you’re just a floating head, Vee,” Eddie said, seeming to have overcome the shock of everything going on. Venom turned back to Eddie with a look of betrayal, and Cassie thought that they must be inside Eddie’s head or something because Eddie rolled his eyes at an unspoken jab and muttered, “yes you are you drama queen.”

“Okay, okay, let’s back up for a minute, yeah?” Scott said, holding up his hands. “Maybe let’s try this again. Hi, I’m Scott Lang, that’s my daughter Cassie, I’m also Ant-Man though that’s usually only when Hank really needs me right now, and we may have used our grow and shrink technology to make a very big ant named Charlie Ben-Ant-e that plays the drums and acted as a decoy for me when I was on house arrest. Your turn.”

Eddie blinked. “Well, uh. I’m Eddie Brock, and this is Venom but I call them Vee, and together we are also Venom. We met after I was disgraced for trying to expose Carlton Drake after Drake’s rocket crashed and brought their race here, and then LIFE was doing all sorts of unethical experiments on symbiotes and humans, but I broke in and we accidentally bonded and then we went out and beat up Drake and another evil symbiote and maybe ate some people at one point, and now we just try and keep to ourselves except for some occasional late night runs where we, uh, well.” Eddie paused, looking at Cassie with what she thinks is concern and nervousness.

“We eat the heads of bad guys,” Venom said plainly, and yeah, Cassie could see why Eddie didn’t want to say that out loud.

“You eat people?!” Scott cried. Eddie winced.

“Only bad guys!” he emphasized. “Plus, look, Vee needs some compound from humans, one that’s especially abundant in brains, in order to live or else they’ll start eating my organs and then we’ll both die and that’s not that fun.”

“Phenethylamine,” Venom added, “is what we need. It is also found in chocolate and there are supplements but they aren’t as good as fresh stuff. It is in many animal brains as well, such as the rats and raccoons and even deer we sometimes eat, but we feel that it is not bad to eat other bad people who would be released from prison, free to hurt more people again.”

“So you’re trying to be a hero too?” Cassie asked.

“Sure, yes, we are,” Eddie and Venom said together, and Cassie found that a little creepy but also super cool.

“Well,” her dad said, “that, uh. Sure is something. What the hell are the odds that two superheroes meet because one asked the other to babysit his daughter?”

“Like zero,” Eddie replied. Then: “Seriously though you won’t tell anyone right?”

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Well. I mean. You could always tell them yourself?”

Eddie leveled a very unimpressed stare at her dad, and Cassie couldn’t help but ask, “You want to tell Hope and her parents, daddy?”

“And maybe whatever’s left of the Avengers,” Scott admitted. “Not that I don’t believe you or trust you or anything! But like, more as a… like, you could join us? That’d be cool, right?”

Eddie blinked, and it’s Venom who answered. “We will…think about it,” they said. “For now, we would appreciate if you tell no one, or we might eat your head.”

“Please don’t eat my daddy’s head,” Cassie said at the same time Eddie shouted, “No, Vee, we aren’t eating a hero’s head!” They shared a look, and Eddie continued, “Cassie would be very sad if you ate her dad’s head.”

“Oh. That’s not good. We like Cassie,” Venom said with a bit of a purr, and Cassie giggled.

“Well,” Scott said, “thanks for, for not eating my brain I guess. And, hey, you have my number – let me know if you ever want to do that hero meet-and-greet thing, I’m serious.”

“Sure, I mean, like we said, we’ll think about it,” Eddie replied.

“Yeah, cool, cool, man. I guess, uh. I guess I’ll see you around?”

Eddie and Venom grinned. “Sure,” was the simple reply.

“Great,” Scott said. He looked back to Cassie and then back to Eddie. “And uh, if you’re okay with it – I mean – I’d be okay with you babysitting Cassie still, I mean only if you want to…”

Eddie cut Scott off with a laugh. “Sure, man, we’d love to. See you around, man; bye, Cassie!”

And Cassie watched, still fascinated, as Venom melded back into Eddie and they walked out toward their motorcycle before driving away.

“He was like, the best babysitter ever daddy,” Cassie proclaimed, grinning up at her dad. “I liked him, and Venom too!”

“He certainly was….something,” Scott replied, scratching the back of his neck. “And I’m sure we’ll see him again, sweetie. Now, should we get Charlie Ben-Ant-e some more food or what?”

[chokememrstark]

Birthday Boy // Thorki

Words: ~ 1,1k

Summary: Loki's birthday turns out just as awful as he expected it. Not only did everyone including his parents forget about it, he also get into trouble in school and when he's sent home early, all he wants is to lay down and have the day be over. Then, his babysitter for the weekend shows up and turns the whole day upside down.

human!au, college/high school!au, birthdays, fluff/light angst, surprises, kisses, crushes

Notes: Something self-indulgent and random I wanted to get out.

Read on AO3!

When Loki woke up he already knew the day would be awful. A note in the kitchen informed him that his “babysitter" would come over after school, because his parents had decided to go on a trip to Vegas together over the weekend. Loki just rolled his eyes and threw the note away, knowing full well that neither of them was even aware of the fact that it was his freaking birthday and that he turned fourteen - an age where he shouldn't need a babysitter anymore.

School was no better, despite it being Friday. Birthdays were usually mentioned or even celebrated by some teachers, but Loki's lack of enthusiasm was well deserved because no one seemed to care about what day it was. He even got into an argument with his math teacher because he forgot his homework, which ended with Loki storming out of the classroom with a rage he rarely experienced. The headmaster wasn't very understanding either, but sent Loki home early since it was no use to go back to class after this. It was an hour early, so Loki took it as his birthday present and got back home.

It was as bad as Loki had expected: No one remembered his birthday, no one gave a damn about it and he would be forced to spend the weekend with some stupid babysitter that would drive him mad and would raid their fridge just the same. Loki didn't even bother to start his homework when he got to his room, he just threw his backpack into a corner and threw himself into the bed.

“Happy fucking birthday to me,” he groaned, wondering why he was even annoyed so much by this.

It wasn't the first time his parents forgot his birthday, was it? The only one who always remembered was his brother, but since Thor went to college a few months ago he hadn't seen him anymore and now there was only Loki left. The golden son was off to study and their parents were left with Loki, he one that always seemed to be forgotten and ignored - if he wasn't blamed for things he didn't even do, of course.

Loki decided to take a nap after getting himself something to eat, the homework could wait and the babysitter would ring the doorbell, so there was no need to stay awake and the more he could ignore of this day, the better. He wanted nothing more but to leave this horrible home like his brother had, but there were still years left before he could escape and he didn't look forward to even one of them. Sleep was the better option, sleep at least meant he wouldn't have to deal with this mess he called life.

What Loki didn't know was that his babysitter didn't have to ring, because he had a key. Loki was deep asleep when his brother Thor sneaked into the apartment, as quiet as possible and carrying a big box in his hands. Thor placed the box on the kitchen counter and peeked into Loki's room, a smirk on his lips when he saw that his brother didn't notice his arrival.

Half an hour later, Thor sneaked into Loki's room and sat down on the bed next to him. He brushed a streak of Loki's silk black hair out of his face and leaned down, lips brushing over his cheek before he pressed a tender kiss of it.

“Time to wake up, birthday boy,” Thor whispered, a hand brushing down Loki's back.

Loki squinted and turned around, a confused look on his face when he finally opened his eyes. He blinked a few times, opened his mouth and then closed it again without saying anything.

“Surprised?” Thor asked and Loki blinked again before poking his brother's cheek.

“Thor?” he asked dumbfounded and poked him once more. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard mom.and dad needed someone to watch over you for a few days.”

“But they said I'll…” Loki stopped and his eyes widened in shock. “Wait, you are my babysitter?”

Thor smiled and without even waiting for an answer, Loki threw himself forward and hugged him as tight as possible. He let out a laugh and returned the embrace, allowing Loki to crawl into his lap.

“You didn't think I forgot your birthday, right, brother?” Thor asked and brushed a hand through Loki's hair.

“They all did,” Loki mumbled and stiffened against him. “Mom, dad, my friends… and that stupid teacher got his pants in a twist because I forgot my shitty homework…”

“Sounds like a really bad day,” Thor sighed and kissed Loki's cheek again. “You think some chocolate cake could make it better? And maybe something to drink?”

Loki looked up at his brother and raised a brow. “A beer?”

“Hm…” Thor made a face as if he was thinking and Loki punched him in the chest.

“You promised!” he scowled and earned a deep, rumbling laugh from his brother.

“True, I did,” he said and nodded. “And we have the whole weekend, we should have some fun at least. Alright, then let's get some cake and beer.”

Thor pushed himself off the bed, letting Loki slide down, but his brother didn't follow him. Loki still sat on the bed when Thor reached the door and turned around, frowning.

“What's wrong?” he asked, a hint of worry in his eyes when he noticed the slight red on Loki's cheeks. “Is something wrong?”

“How about that… other thing you promised?” Loki turned his head to not look at his brother directly.

“Other thing?” he asked confused.

“You said when I'm older… we could… I mean...” Loki's shoulders dropped and only then it finally clicked.

“Loki…” Thor said softly and walked over to the bed again. He knelt down and cupped Loki's face, his cheeks burning under his fingers. “Do you think I changed my mind?”

“Did you?” Loki asked and looked up with big eyes.

Thor leaned forward and sealed Loki's lips with his own in a tender and gentle kiss. He laid a hand on his neck, fingers curling against the soft skin. When he pulled back, Loki's eyes were glossy and dreamy and he couldn't suppress a smile.

“I’ll never change my mind, Loki,” he murmured. “Come, let's celebrate your birthday, okay? And later you will get your special gift, just as I promised.”

Loki's face lightened up and he wrapped his arms around Thor's neck, allowing him to lift him up. He laughed when Thor held him and carried him into the kitchen, glad that this day turned around so much so fast. The cake was amazing and Thor kept his promise for Loki's first beer, chuckling when Loki choked and complained about the taste.

It turned out to be a good birthday in the end. Maybe no one else cared, but Thor did and that was all that mattered to Loki.

[the-miss-mousie]

A Lover’s Kiss

Lover’s Kiss (AO3 Link)

Lance relaxed into the messed up sheets and shoved his face into the cloud-like pillows. He looked forward to waking up in these comfortable blankets every morning. It beats the cold and dirty ground that he once had to sleep on for almost a year. Now, he was in a cozy room surrounding by expensive items, lying in the comfiest bed in existence. And it would only cost him a small price that was more of a bonus to him.

The door behind him opened with a creak and closed with a click. He didn’t turn to face Shiro and instead focused on burrowing himself deeper into the bed. There was shuffling behind him, and the bed dipped as Shiro sat down next to Lance.

Suddenly, a warm glow lit up the room, and Lance peaked over the covers to investigate.

“I didn’t even notice that,” He said as he viewed the large fireplace. There was a large flat-screen TV above it. A small setting area was between the bed and the fireplace.

“That’s probably because you went straight to the bed,” Shiro commented.

“Can you blame me?” Lance replied, “This bed looks like something gods would sleep in.”

“I’m glad you like it,” He murmured. Moving closer to Lance, he rested his arm on Lance’s shoulders and pulled him to his side. Lance smiled and curled up against his lover. He wrapped his arm around Shiro’s front and kissed his chin. “You’re going to be living here, after all. I should hope that you feel safe and comfortable.”

Lance snorted, “I always feel safe when I’m with you. With or without a comfy bed.” He pressed more kisses on Shiro’s neck.

After all the time they’ve spent together, Lance shouldn’t’ be surprised by Shiro’s “chivalry” in picking their new home. Well, technically it was a new home to Lance and an old one to Shiro. Shiro had lived in this manor (not a small house like Lance had expected) a long while back. He had left it behind because it was too empty for him. One person in a large place like this would get very lonely. Now, however, he wasn’t alone, and they had many friends who were very serious about visiting.

The corner’s of Shiro’s mouth twitched upward, but his gaze remained firmly fixed on the fireplace. He had been stiff all day and was continually zoning in and out. It was concerning, but Lance figured that Shiro was just as nervous as he was. This was a big step in their relationship, even bigger than the gold bands they both wore.

“Hey,” Lance began, pulling away from Shiro. “What’s wrong?”

Shiro shrugged and said, “Nothing’s wrong.”He Iiiienjfdnc

He tried to pull Lance back to his side, but Lance moved away with a frown. Pushing himself up, Lance moved in front of Shiro and sat down on his thighs so he could direct Shiro’s full attention on to himself. Cupping his lovers face, he looked into Shiro’s sorrowful eyes.

“Shiro, please,” he whispered. “If we’re going to be doing this, we need to talk.”

With a sigh, Shiro relaxed to Lance’s touch and wrapped his arms around Lance’s waist. Lance patiently waited for Shiro’s reply by running his hands through Shiro’s dark hair. The white streak had definitely gotten larger since he first met Shiro. He wondered if it was stress or something else that had caused the white streak in Shiro’s hair.

It didn’t take long for Shiro to mumble, “I’m just worried.”

Lance nodded and continue his ministrations as Shiro seemed to become even more relaxed. “What exactly has you worried?”

Shiro snorted, “Really? Isn’t it obvious?”

Lance smiled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but what about it has you worried?”

Shiro’s eyes darkened slightly. “Lance, I’m literally going to kill you.”

Lance couldn’t help the shiver that ran up his spine at the words. His eyes were quickly drawn to Shiro’s teeth that, while human at the moment, hid dangerous fangs meant to kill. Yet, the idea of said fangs dipping into his neck gave him an entirely different feeling. A feeling that was quite dangerous for a human to have.

“I mean, yeah, but I’m not staying dead,” Lance said. “I’ll be good as new once you’re done.”

Shiro frowned and replied, “That’s not a guarantee, though. Something could go wrong, and you could just end up dead. Even then, the process is still incredibly painful. It’s not some walk in the park, Lance.”

“I know that, Shiro. We’ve been over this many times before,” Lance said. Shiro’s eyes darted to the side. “Shiro, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have too. I know that I’m fine with this, but if you’re not then, we don’t have to do this.”

Shiro shook his head rapidly, “No. I want this too. God, Lance, I really do want this.” He took a breath. “I’m just worried that I’ll lose you.”

“Oh, baby,” Lance smiled softly. He brought his hands to cup Shiro’s jaw, gesturing for Shiro to meet his eyes once again. “You’re not going to lose me. Didn’t I tell when we first met that there’s nothing you can do to get rid of me?”

Shiro chuckled, “You did, but I’m sure that death will definitely do that.”

“Nope cause then I’ll just haunt your ass.”

Shiro rolled his eyes but gave a Lance a small smile. “Ghosts aren’t real, Lance. We’ve been over this.”

“If vampires are real, then so are ghosts,” Lance replied.

“Those of two very different things, but whatever you say.” Shiro shook his head. Lance ran his thumb over Shiro’s cheekbones and admired the blush that formed under his touch.

“But I am telling you the truth. I have no intention of leaving you in any way,” Lance murmured. He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to Shiro’s lips. And then another, and another.

Shiro pulled Lance closer and kissed back feverishly. His fingers dug into Lance’s flesh, and Lance couldn’t possibly have felt more secure in his lover’s arms. Carefully, Shiro guided Lance to lie down on the bed next to him. Lance moved from Shiro’s lips to his neck, nipping and kissing the flesh under his jaw.

Shiro quietly chuckled. “You go for the neck more than I do.”

“And I’ll go for it even more,” Lance replied before he nipped at Shiro’s jugular.

Shiro growled lowly and pushed Lance onto his back before coming to hover over him. Lance smiled and looked up at Shiro. His eyes widened when he saw the pearly white fangs. He had only seen them a few times before as Shiro rarely let them show. They were sharper than he expected, but surprisingly not that long. As he stared at the fangs, he could only think, I can’t wait for those to bite me.

Some would probably call Lance a masochist, and maybe they’re right. But he could truly care less as he had a future with Shiro in mind and said future required a nasty bite.

Shiro leaned down and kissed Lance softly. Lance relaxed into the bed, and let Shiro cover him completely. Shiro slowly made his way down to Lance’s neck, where his lips traveled over the unblemished skin. Lance sighed and willed himself to relax even further as Shiro’s kissed his neck.

Lance wondered if Shiro would take his time, and draw it out, or if he would be quick and eager to finish. He knew Shiro wanted to make sure that Lance wasn’t in any pain, but it was unclear as to whether or not going fast or slow would change that. If the kisses were any indication, Shiro was likely going to draw it out until he needed to pick up the pace.

Wrapping his arms around Shiro’s torso, he ran his hands up and down Shiro’s back in a soothing manner. A hand reached up to tug at the buttons of Lance’s shirt, and with great skill, Lance’s shirt was unbuttoned in seconds. In an instant, Shiro was kissing at the newly exposed skin. Those soft lips trailed down to Lance’s shoulder, kissing and sucking but never nipping, and he moved down Lance’s chest.

He looked up at Lance with hungry eyes, and Lance blinked calmly. He was ready for this. Shiro seemed to understand and moved up again. This time, he pressed a gentle kiss to Lance’s forehead.

“I love you,” He whispered.

Lance smiled and closed his eyes. “I love you more.”

He felt soft lips press against his neck, giving him one final kiss before Shiro’s fangs impaled his flesh with a sting.

“Ah,” Lance gasped. The next thing Lance felt could only be described as euphoria. His body seemed to move on its own as he dug his fingers into Shiro’s back and his back arched. His lips parted to form an O before the corners of his lips twitched upward.

Now, here’s the thing. Lance was no stranger to sex. Have you seen Shiro? There’s no way Lance wouldn’t try to sex that man up. So, Lance had his fair share of orgasms, and he sure wasn’t expecting to orgasm to having his neck bit by his vampire husband.

Warmth traveled through Lance limbs and into his chest while he panted. Shiro held Lance tighter as he drank, intent on not letting his lover go.

Lance felt a dizzying wave of pleasure run up his spine and into his head. He was drunk on the venom. Shiro must have been drinking quickly since Lance began to fade in and out of consciousness. He felt like he was underwater, drifting deeper and deeper into the ocean. But not drowning.

Faintly, he was aware that he was literally being drained of all his blood, but it didn’t scare him. He doubted that he could ever be scared of Shiro. Nonetheless, he knew he was dying, and if he was honest, he was worried that if he closed his eyes, he would never open them again. He could only hope and trust Shiro.

Dark spots began to cloud his vision, and an empty cold began to travel through his body. His hands trembled against Shiro’s back. The venom was still clouding, making him numb to the approach of death. He could feel his own heartbeat slow.

Slowly, he closed his eyes.

Lance’s awareness of the world around him slipped through his fingers. He couldn’t feel Shiro under his fingers. He couldn’t feel the fangs in his neck. He couldn’t feel the warmth of the air around him. He couldn’t feel the softness of the sheet and the comfort of the bed.

He couldn’t feel the beat of his own heart, because it wasn’t there anymore.

There was nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Until there was something.

A shock that traveled through his veins, and charged his blood.

His heart thumped back to life, but it burned. Something was eating at him from the inside out. Lance screamed and thrashed, but a solid form was holding him down. It was as though someone a replaced his blood with molten metal.

Strong hands ran over his body, trying to calm him as Lance trembled and sob. Someone was speaking, murmuring gentle phrases.

Lance felt an ache in his teeth and tasted blood on his tongue. An intense hunger grew. He growled and bit down on the nearest thing which happened to be a shoulder. More blood flooded into his mouth. As he drank the pain faded ever so slowly, but the hunger remained. The blood did nothing to satiate his appetite.

He whined and pulled away as a far as the strong arms around him would allow. A hand came up to cup his cheek, and Lance looked up at them. He blinked a few times as he took in their familiar features.

“Lance,” He said.

“Shiro,” The name rolled off his tongue. Shiro. He blinked a few more times.

Shiro patiently waited and ran his thumb over the reddened skin under Lance’s eye, wiping away tears. Lance came back to himself, slowly but surely. He remembered where they were, why they here, and everything before. He remembered Shiro’s fangs digging into his neck and the embrace of death.

“Shiro,” He repeated, breathlessly. His new fangs nicked his lips as he smiled and gazed at Shiro with adoration.

Shiro smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to Lance’s lips. “Welcome back, darling.”

[bazwillendinflames]

The Things We Used To Share (Macsingh)

Ao3 

Inspired by this song 

'You took my spyglass No knowin' what lies ahead'

Following his break up with April, Ram reflects on the past. An old ukulele is all that's left of her.

You can have the toaster And the PC Or even my Timothy Green DVD

Ram sat down on the middle of the floor of his now empty flat. (There was no sofa anymore.) His now lonely flat.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. It was probably his imagination but he could swear it still smelt like her.

April always smelt like coffee. She worked at a tiny coffee shop tucked into a corner of London rarely explored by tourists. She didn't even drink coffee but every time she was lay next to him, Ram could smell it in her hair. April hated that - she always insisted on buying vanilla shampoo, not that it made a difference.

"Hey expresso girl."

"Is that anyway to greet your girlfriend?"

If April was here, Ram would be able to smell fresh ground coffee as if he was in the shop himself.

If she was here...

I'll let you have the couch And the TV Hang on to that jacket that you bought for me

They had broken up. It was mostly Ram's own fault, which he regretted more than anything in the world.

The truth could be deadly in a relationship. It had been the final deadly blow for them both. It hadn't even been an ugly truth. Just one that she wasn't ready for. That he shouldn't have said. Not after only three months together.

"I love you."

It was stupid but Ram was stupid. Stupidly in love.

Everything had moved fast. They lived together before they had been dating. Ram needed a roommate; April needed a roommate. They were friends. It made sense.

Ram liked her then. He hadn't thought that part through really. Because if they had broken up...

"Ram, it isn't funny."

"I wasn't joking."

They had broken up. A slip of the tongue. An early love confession. Now he was sat alone in a flat overlooking the 24 hour cafe where they'd had their first date at two in the morning, laughing at things that weren't funny.

Now he was left with nothing left to remain him of April. She took everything and left. She was crying the last time he saw her. And wearing make up - big black tears welled up before she turned to run down the stairs and away from him. That was the last image he had of her - a loop of her big, sad eyes meeting his and then her running away. 

I don't really care You can keep the things we used to share

There was only one thing she had forgotten. An old ukulele. April had tried to teach him how to play once.

"How are you struggling? This is the easiest instrument to play."

"What about the triangle?"

"I'm sure you'd struggle with that one too Ram. I think I'm the musical one here."

"Then play me a song."

She must have left it by accident. It was special to her, Ram knew that. (Like he knew her favourite colour was blue and her favourite song was a folk one.)

Ram turned it over to the back. In black sharpie pen she had scribbled her initials. A. M.

April MacLean.

That was Ram's favourite name in the universe. Thinking about it - about her - made him smile. Or, at least, it used to.

"How can you love me? It's been three months!"

"Does that make a difference? Matters of the heart don't have a time limit April. And you have mine."

"Maybe I don't want your heart!"

There was a dent too, on the bottom left corner. She'd dropped it and hit the corner of the kitchen counter. Not April's finest moment.

It felt like life time ago since they were together. Happy.

But what did you do with my heart? What did you do with my heart?

His phone seemed to be taunting him. Ram picked it up - half full of hope yet dreading the conversation. He dialled April's number and waited as it beeped.

"The person you're calling is not available. Please leave a message."

He sighed and waited for the beep.

"Hey, April..."

What was there left to say?

"I'm not expecting you to say it back. You can have time. We can make it work."

"What if I need a lot of time... what if I'm never ready?"

"Do you not care about me?"

"Don't word it like that. You make me feel evil."

"I know I'm the last person you want to talk to. So, you might delete this message. You left your ukulele with me. Come get it whenever. Or I can pass it on to Charlie. Call me back. Or don't. I wouldn't blame you. Lo- bye."

No more fireworks No more compass You didn't leave a single butterfly in my stomach

Ram missed her optimism the most. She was always so happy, so loving. He would hang the stars for her, in the shape of a broken heart.

He knew a lot about broken hearts.

"Do you think it's impossible to ever feel that way for me? Even for a second?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

And so did she.

"It could surprise you. I didn't expect it. I didn't ask for it. But I look at you and I think, she's the one. And I don't know why, but you are. And you don't feel the same back, do you?"

"Ram-"

"You'll never feel the same."

"Ram- Ram that's not true. Don't make it seem like I'm heartless!"

Optimistic till the horrible, ugly, end.

He missed that.

You took my spyglass No knowin' what lies ahead

April had stormed out - or escaped - in tears. They didn't speak about it again for a week but Ram knew it was the beginning of the end. He could feel April pulling away from him. 

He looked down at the little ukulele in his hand. The last piece of April he had left. 

"Hey soul sister- stop laughing at me!" 

"You're so cute with your little ukulele." 

Ram put it down and looked at  his phone. No message back from April. He put down his phone next to the instrument that held too many memories. 

Took my warmth at night But left a dent in my bed

It still felt lonely to sleep without her. It was too quiet - all Ram could think about was the past and how much it hurt. 

"We'll have to have this conversation. You can't avoid it." 

"Ram- I'm sorry but I don't want to." 

Those three words were his biggest regret. 

Ram turned off the light and opened a window, listening to the sound of the outside. It was better than silence, then obsessing over the past. (Even if the past wasn't that long ago.) 

I don't really care You can keep the things we used to share But what did you do with my heart? What did you do with my heart?

Ram was the one who picked the fight. He just wanted to clear the air of all the tension between them, so things could go back to normal again. If he knew how it would end... 

That it would end things with her forever. 

"You don't have to say it back. I didn't expect you to. I didn't dare to think that... Listen, we have time." 

"It's not just time." 

"Tell me how you feel. Tell me the truth."

You've stripped me of my pride That's for the best

There was a missed call and text from April when Ram woke up and checked his phone. 

April (dont call) left one (1) voice message 

April (dont call) 8:10am  I saw I missed a call from you yesterday. I know it's just about the uk... 

Tanya 9:32am  April said you called her... everything ok nerd? 

Ram saved the voice message for last. He opened his texts first. He sent a message to Tanya telling her yes he was okay and no he didn't want her being nosy. She replied with middle finger emoji. (It was her way of cheering him up, Ram suspected.) 

He clicked on April's full message. 

April (dont call) 8:10am  I saw I missed a call from you yesterday. I know it's just about the ukulele but it was nice to hear your voice again. I'm not good at being broken up with you. Tan says you aren't doing too good either. I miss you. Call me. About my stuff. 

With a hopeful smile, Ram played her voice message. 

"Hey, I can come round later. Um, it's good to hear from you Ram." 

He replayed it, savouring the last sentence. 

But you've also deprived me of a full night's rest So no more dreams

Ram was restless as he paced around their-his flat. April was at work (he still knew her time table). Waiting was hard. It reminded him of all the awkward silences before they broke up. 

"I'm scared." 

"Me too." 

"We're not going to last; nothing good ever lasts. Not even you." 

"It's not- don't- why?" 

"I'm scared I'll never feel as strongly for you as you will for me." 

Ram had nothing to say. He still wasn't sure what to say, or how to say it. 

Where we pull through And I can't collect my thoughts 'Cause they're still with you

Ram was startled by the door knocking. April had a key. Maybe she'd left that too. Or maybe they were just strangers now... strangers who held little pieces of each others heart. 

Ram looked in the mirror quickly, fluffing up his hair and he was wearing an old jumper he slept in. He didn't want to put too much effort in, in case April thought the wrong thing (whatever that was) but now he was regretting his lack of effort and general scruffiness. There was no time to change, so he sucked it up and opened the door. 

April smiled weakly at him and stepped inside. 

"Hi." 

Ram was staring. "Hi." 

The first time they met, he'd been looking for a roommate. He wondered if he'd still pick her, even if he knew how it would end. In tears. But, it hadn't ended. They were together again in the place where he'd first kissed her. The flat had been the heartbeat, the centre of their relationship for a long time. It was almost fate. 

Or maybe it was just an ukulele. 

I don't really care You can keep the things we used to share But what did you do with my heart? What did you do with my heart?

April hoovered awkwardly in the empty spot where their sofa had once been. She had taken it when she left and Ram had let her. He tried not to spend much time inside now it meant he would be alone. 

Ram sat down, leaning against the wall. She did the same. 

"I miss you," he said. She had said the same in her text. Ram could only hope that April meant it. 

"I miss you too. I miss us. Being away from you... I don't like it." April looked down at her feet. "I thought the painful part was over." 

"I don't think the painful part is ever over." Ram shifted closer to her. "I have spent all day worrying about this. But being together is easy." 

"But awkward," April muttered. 

"That's a given." 

"Yeah. I'm not used to not talking to you everyday. You went from being my best friend and my boyfriend to being a stranger in a whirlwind." She sighed. "I hate whirlwinds." 

I wouldn't take it back Even though I feel sore I meant it when I said What's mine is yours

"Imagine there's a rewind button. Would you press it?" 

April looked over, lip trembling. "You really think I'd take it back. No. Never. Even if... I can't say it. What you said. You mean the world to me. Even if the world has suffered an earthquake." 

"Earthquakes don't always knock everything down." 

April bit her lip. "It's not an earthquake. It's not something we can measure on a seismometer to assess the damage. It's not a puzzle or..." 

"What is it then?" Ram interrupted, frustrated. 

"A break up. Not so happily ever after." She stood up. "Where's my ukulele?"

But I need to know Now that we're apart What did you do

April looked down at the instrument in front of her. 

"This isn't the final time I'll hear from you, is it?" 

"I'll hear back from you?" 

"Yeah, of course. I need a roommate and you seem not-crazy." 

"Same. See you around not-crazy Ram Singh." 

"I'll call you."

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Can you play me a song? One last time?" 

"You make it sound so final. I hate goodbyes." 

April sat on the counter and started to play. "You can have the toaster..."

  I need to know

Now that we're apart

Ram applauded when she finished. April ducked her head and put it down. 

"You picked a break up song." 

"Yeah. Heartbreak does that to you," she replied. "Can I make a confession?" 

"Go ahead." 

She had the guilty look on her face. "I left the ukulele on purpose. I didn't trust you to keep in contact. Maybe it was a bad idea." 

"I'm glad you did. I think we needed to talk." Ram offered her a hand and pulled April off the counter. 

"Say goodbye like I won't need another excuse to talk to you," she whispered. 

"I'll see you around." 

"I'll see you around," she echoed. "Yeah, like the sound of that." 

What did you do with my heart?

They hoovered by the door. 

"Have you ever seen 'How I Met Your Mother'?" April asked. 

"Yeah?" 

"Ted keeps falling for the wrong people. But he finds her in the end. The Mother. His soulmate. And it was so worth all the pain, he spent like ten seasons telling them the story. You'll find the right girl." 

"I wanted it to be you." 

April nodded and wiped her eyes. "Me too. So bad. But I'm your Robin, not your Tracy." 

"Don't they get together in the end?" 

"See you around Ram," April said, zipping up her jacket. 

"See you around."

He watched her walk down the stairs until she was out of sight. And then Ram said, out loud and just for his sanity: "I love you."

The words still tasted like poison.

What did you do with my heart? What did you do with my heart? What did you do with my heart? What did you do with my heart?

[assbuttyourlife]

When We Were Young - Chapter Fifteen

Pairing : Misha/OFC

Warnings : Language, Fire, trauma, PTSD, family members’ death (including child), therapy, flashbacks (not in every chapter), injuries, cheating. Long fic. Angst, fluff, Smut. Mention of suicide.

Words : 4895

Summary : After her grandmother’s funeral, Lily must return to the place she lived in when she was young and has to confront the ghosts of her past. She will run into an old friend that she thought was lost forever.

WWWY Masterlist

AO3 link

CHAPTER 15 - SKIN TO SKIN

After they entered the hotel room, still without a word, Lily fell down on her bed, feeling exhausted. It wasn't late, but all those emotions drained her, and she still felt extremely guilty to see Misha so upset. The atmosphere in the room was heavy and cold, but Misha broke the silence with his low voice.

"I'll be back soon." She looked up to see him leave the room, probably to go get something to eat. She Just hated everything about herself right now... But she had to do it... right? She didn't even know exactly how she really felt about him. They were in love when they were young, that's for sure, but now? Everything had changed. Nothing could be the same anymore, and obviously he didn't want to face it.

She did what she always did when she wasn't feeling good: Call Katie. She just hoped she wasn't too busy rehearsing.

"Heyyy! what's up Lily-bee?" She picked up right away and just hearing her high and raspy voice made Lily feel better. "Hey Kat! You seem good! Where are you?" "In the cafeteria at work, with David who says hi! Are you with Misha?" "Not right now, he uuh... He went to get some food."

Even through the phone, she couldn't fool Katie who immediately heard something was wrong.

"Is everything okay? You sound weird." "Yeah don't worry, we just kinda had what you could call a... disagreement?" "Again? Let me guess: He doesn't want you to sell the estates." Lily cleared her throat. “He actually doesn't. You're good!”

That happened yesterday, but she actually were glad that she had an excuse not to talk about what really happened. At that moment, she thought about something else that changed between her and Misha: they were fighting a lot more. Of course they had fights too when they were teens, but it was rare, and pretty much everytime about something really stupid. But now, they seem to disagree about everything, and it just proved how much they've changed and nothing could be the same.

“Ah ah, I knew it! He's a sentimental and he keeps tearing up when he talks about his childhood, I knew he would try to make you change your mind about selling. Did he actually succeed?” “No, he didn't. I will definitely sell whether he likes it or not. It's not his decision. It won't be easy for me either, but I have to.” “Lily... Do you realize how much money those properties must be worth?”

Katie had a point... The Litchfield mansion was huge and well preserved even if it needed to be freshen up a little, and the farm was even bigger and still workable despite the half burnt residence that should be fixed. “Probably a few... millions...” Lily pointed out.

Money had never been a problem for her, as far as she could remember, her grandfather and father did such a great job with the farm that they had more than enough and they were privileged enough to help other people, but hearing herself saying “millions” was kind of a shock for her anyway, so she just decided to laugh about it for now.

“I'll buy you a boat.” She chuckled. Katie scoffed. “God... I won't even start to tell you how much you'll be able to do with that kind of money, I guess you already know.” “Yeah, don't bother. So... Can we please change the subject for something... lighter?” She was beginning to feel really uncomfortable and that was not why she called Katie in the first place, she needed to be cheered up.

“Alright, alright. Hey umm... Have you checked Twitter since the convention?” Okay... Twitter was definitely a lighter subject, but she had a very bad feeling when she heard the tone in Katie's voice. “No. Should I?” “You know, you should uuh... you should probably change it and make it more... private.” “Why? What's going on?” “Well... you know how Supernatural fans are about girls and everything...”

Couldn't she be more specific? No, she didn't know anything about those stuffs! “Just... Trust me and change it okay? You don't need to waste your time reading everything. It's worthless.” “Thank you! Now I'm freaking out! I'll check it later.” “I need to go, Lily. David's eyes are getting scary, he's been waiting for me long enough. Call me if you need to talk alright? Love ya!” “Wait! What-” Great... she hung up.

Since Misha was still out, she opened the Twitter app on her phone and checked her timeline. It didn't look that bad, some people wanted to know if it was really her they saw at the convention, some others sent her nice tweets saying they were happy Misha found her back, that they were cute together on stage, that they wanted more stories, and then some... oh...

Some people thought she was lying about her identity just to be close to the cast, she saw someone tweeting that she was just Vicki's girlfriend, but Misha wanted to hide it so he made this old friend/girlfriend story up, others simply sent insults thinking she pretended to be his friend just for his money or fame... and she also saw a tweet saying she just wanted to end his marriage because she was jealous. They sure had a lot of imagination!

Their words were very hurtful though... Attention whore... freak... gold digger...jealous bitch...

She jumped when she heard the lock on the door clicking. Misha walked inside the room, put the food on the table and saw her standing in front of the window like a statue, her phone in her hand and a very annoyed look on her face. “Wow, relax. I took something for you too!”

She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but no sound got out. She just stayed here with her mouth open, breathing heavily.

“Lily? Don't be so dramatic, I'll get over it. I'm sorry if I reacted so-” She raised her phone and slid her finger on the screen to show him all those tweets about her. He wasn't even surprised.

“Oh... Yeah I could've warned you that could eventually happen.” She felt a wave of wrath growing inside of her. “That's all you have to say???”

He threw the phone down on her bed. “Well, it's unfortunate, but it's part of my life. Some people are just really, really stupid and do that for... I don't even know what for to be honest. I just don't pay attention to them. I'd rather focus on the positive aspect of this fandom to do good things.”

Unbelievable... He talked about it like it was the most normal thing in the world. Was she overreacting? Was she just a drama queen or something?

“Oh, so I am just supposed to shut up and let people insult me in public?” “Well, first you're supposed to make your Twitter more secure, but yeah, just ignore them. Don't let them get to you. You have no idea how many horrors I've read about me, and even about my family, kids included.”

She sat back on her bed and rubbed her face, sighing deeply in defeat. “That a lot of crap for a couple of days.” Misha frowned. “Hey! I don't want you to feel bad about our trip here!”

She stared at him with wide eyes. “Look at us, Misha! We can't stop fighting! We disagree on everything, this is ridiculous! And now this? This whole thing is a complete disaster!”

He sat on his bed, facing her, a bit disappointed she felt that way. “I don't think it is.” “See? Again, we disagree!”

His face fell at her hurtful sarcastic tone and his voice started to raise. “Don't ruin this for me! I enjoy being here with you!” “Naturally, it's my fault again. It was a fucking bad idea in the first place and you know it! We have nothing to do here anymore, among ashes and ghosts of the past! We're not the same persons anymore, we have nothing in common, just face it Misha, and then you'll be able to move on like I did!” She almost screamed.

She sighed heavily, got up of the bed and went to the bathroom, not bothering closing the door behind her as she was just getting her stuff back to put them on her suitcase.

“What are you doing?” Misha followed her. “I'm going back home, where I belong. We've wasted enough time. I should be rehearsing for next weekend's concert and you should be with your family while you're free.” She spat harshly. “Oh, so this is your solution to every problem in your life, uh? Running away? Just like you ran to Europe? That's the only thing you can do? Very brave, Lily!” They were both screaming at each other now, Misha following her every move, ready to jump if she tried to escape.

She opened the dresser and picked her clothes, throwing them angrily in her suitcase without even folding them properly. “Shut up! Don't pretend you know me! You don't! You did, but it's over. It's fucking over, Misha, do you understand that?” Her voice was shaky as she started crying, not because she was sad, but because she was full of rage, trying to make him understand that all of this was useless. She had a hard time closing her suitcase, as it was a big mess inside and she was shaking from anger.

“Do what you want here, take whatever you want, I don't even care. I'll call the agency to sell the houses next week, so you better hurry.” She put her suitcase down and started walking toward the door, taking her jacket and phone on her way. Misha followed her, feeling everything around him crumbling.

“Lily, stop!! Wait!!” He ran to the door so he could reach it before her and stood on the way so she couldn't get out. “Get out of my way!” He didn't move. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared as he stared at her angrily. “Make me.” His voice was dangerously calm and low now.

In her rage, Lily threw her jacket in his face but he caught it. “Get... the fuck... OUT... OF MY SIGHT!” She yelled, catching every object she could put her hand on and throwing them at him between her words.

Tired of her little scene, Misha stepped forward and caught her right wrist so she would stop throwing things at him. She gasped. “Let me go!” He caught her other wrist, roughly pulled her towards him, spun around and pinned both of her wrists above her head against the front door. She struggled, panting, so he stepped closer to press her whole body between him and the door to keep her from moving and hurt herself.

“You fucking bastard! Get the fuck away from me! Let me go, damn it!!” She screamed, feeling trapped. He got even closer and looked down at her, his face only a few inches from hers, her wrists still pinned above her head. “I can't...” He whispered between clenched teeth. She panted and tried to struggle even more, but he was definitely stronger so she could only writhe a little under his weight, driving him crazy.

He leaned closer and crashed his lips on hers, sucking on them before biting her lower lip, which startled her so she made a strangled noise. He took both of her wrists in his right hand as he needed the left one to grip firmly on her chin and tilted it up so she would look at him in the eyes.

“I just can't let you go, don't you understand that?” He growled before roughly kissing her once more, this time pushing his tongue inside of her mouth.

She was still panting and writhing between him and the door, but she kissed him back, biting his lower lip too. Misha slid his leg between hers and raised his knee up a little so his thigh was now pushing up right between hers, and she completely lost it when she felt the pressure between her legs. Her eyes shut down and her legs almost gave up so he had to let go of her wrists to support her, but he didn't stop. He grabbed her chin once more and tilted her head up.

“Look at me.” She heard the dominance in his voice and felt the wetness between her thighs spreading, as he laid his hand on her hips and slid it under her shirt, now biting on her neck. She gave in, unable to resist him any longer, raising her arms so he could take her shirt off completely, and she went wild when he licked on her neck, right on the spot that he knew made her weak, soon sliding his tongue lower to her chest. She moaned loudly and grinded against his thigh while she touched him everywhere, finally free from his grip. She almost ripped his shirt open, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against her chest after so long.

She couldn't stop touching him, his large shoulders, his firm chest, then she reached further and scratched his back until her hand finally reach his jean's bandwaist, and she plunged under his boxer to squeeze his ass. He groaned and reached for her jeans too, unzipping them quickly. He pulled his leg back from between hers and she whined at the loss. He stopped kissing her and stared hungrily in her eyes while he pulled her jeans down roughly. She helped him by stepping on it and freeing her legs. She was now only in her underwear and this vision made Misha even more eager. He pressed his body to hers and cupped her ass, raising her from the ground, and she instinctively locked her legs around his waist, her head falling back against the door in a thud when she felt his rock hard erection through his jeans. She gripped on his shoulders when he kissed her once more. The kiss was wet and full of tongues, they were just devouring each other. She rolled her hips against his jeans and they both whined at the sensation.

Misha turned around with her still hooked around him, walked to his bed and threw her on it before pulling his pants off while she was laying on her back biting her lower lip. He climbed on the bed, put his hands on her knees and spread her legs before laying down on top of her and leaving open wet kisses on her neck. He reached behind her back to unclasp her bra and she arched to help him. She let out a long and obscene moan when he closed his mouth around her right nipple and sucked hard. She scratched his back one more time and shoved her hand between their bodies, gripping his hard clothed cock to stroke it.

“Ahh!” He grunted and threw his face in the crook of her neck, biting harder, kneading one of her breast in his hand. She pulled down on his boxer, unable to wait any longer. He knelt back on the bed between her thighs to help her, and she licked and bit her lower lip, humming when she saw his thick cock finally free. Of course, Misha did the same and quickly pulled her black panties down too, before observing her body with darkening eyes. His hands caressed up her legs and he bent down to kiss her on the lips. He laid down on top of her and when he felt their naked bodies fully connected, as she wrapped her arms tight around his chest and her legs around his waist, his cock rubbing on her lower stomach, his mood changed, and he kissed her slower and slower, deeper and deeper, realizing he was making love to the woman he missed so much.

He could've kissed her like that forever. It was worth a million words, and he put everything he felt for her in that kiss, sucking on her soft and luscious lower lip, tasting her over and over again. He held her face in his hands and broke the kiss to stare into her green gaze. She stared back at him with shiny eyes and smiled, sliding her hands down to his lower back. She pushed a little and felt the tip of his cock on her now soaking entrance, which caused her head to fall back and her mouth to open without making a sound.

Misha sucked on her neck one more time while thrusting his hips further and entered her slowly until he was fully inside of her, causing her to dig her fingers on his back and moan. He didn't move. He just stopped everything to look at her and appreciate the exquisite feeling of her around him.

“I missed you so damn much.” He whispered. Her eyes reddened and she ran her fingers through his hair. She gently pushed his head down and kissed him slowly. “I missed you too.” She replied softly against his lips. Misha wiped a tear that fell from her eyes with his thumb and stroked her hair back. He gently pressed his lips to hers again and started to thrust slowly. They both stopped kissing to moan in each others mouth, as good as it felt for both of them despite the torturous slow pace of his hips. They stayed with their mouths open, breathing each other's air, while Misha sped up his pace a little and thrust harder, needing more. She moaned at every move.

“Oh... Misha... fuck!” The sounds she made were driving him crazy, so he sped up even more, knowing he wouldn't last long after twenty two years of missing her perfect body. She grabbed his hair with a hand, wrapping her other arm around his chest. The feeling of him inside of her was pure ecstasy. She forgot how good he felt, how thick he was, how perfectly their bodies matched. She whined and swayed her hips under him, her breasts rubbing against his chest. He could feel her hard nipples against him, her arms shaking around his neck, her warm stomach under his, her legs hooked around his waist, her walls twitching around his cock, and the feeling was almost unbearable.

“Come with me.” He purred in her ear and thrust his hips frantically, sucking her neck one more time. “Oohhh god... Misha... Oh fuck... yeah!” She bit her lower lip hard and held onto him even tighter, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Open your eyes, Lily...” He wanted to sink into her gaze while she came, he needed her to see him loving her. The feeling of him thrusting fast and hard inside of her while she was wrapped around his warm and firm body was so unbelievably good that she just wanted to close her eyes to melt in the sensation, but she fought to keep them open and look into his piercing eyes, now almost black from lust, with a hint of blue sparkling emotion.

They both dissolved into pleasure at the same time, staring at each other and screaming each other's names. She felt her walls clenching around his hard cock as his pace became unsteady and he came inside of her, and her eyes rolled back as she cried out his name one more time. He grunted and thrust a few more time, guiding her through her orgasm, and when her moans got lower, he collapsed on top of her, laying his head on her chest to catch his breath. She didn't roll to move him away from her. She needed to melt under his weight and warmth just like she used to do when they were young.

Misha had always been a cuddler, he liked to stay and lay on top of her to cuddle after sex, and apparently it didn't change. He pulled up a little, supported by his elbows on each side of her face, and he looked at her for a while without saying anything.

She opened her eyes and saw him staring at her with awe.

"What?” She whispered. A tender smile slowly grew on his face. “This is no PTSD... This is not because we're here... This is not nostalgia or any other crap. I love you, Lily, and I mean it. I know you're scared, but I'm not. Something... or someone, took us apart for twenty two years while we could've been happy together, and I'm done wasting time.”

She shook her head, closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. “Oh Misha...” she caressed his cheek and traveled to his hair. God how she loved his soft hair!

“The only thing I'm asking you right now, is to not regret this. We'll figure the rest later. Can you do that?”

Her right hand traveled softly from his shoulder to his lower back as she sank into his gaze. She knew she would regret this the second she would be away from him. She would feel terribly guilty and she would probably never be able to look at Vicki in the eyes, but right now... she was happy and complete... She felt like she was sixteen again, and she only wanted to keep him forever.

“I don't know.” She replied honestly.

And this was the exact time Vicki chose to call her husband... Misha's phone rang on the nightstand so he picked up, moving away from Lily in the process, and she sighed, feeling empty again. “Hey Vic, what's up?” Misha answered casually.

Of course, Lily's brain started to work... too much. She was currently naked in the bed of a married man and a father, who was also naked, talking to his wife on the phone right after they had unprotected sex... Nice one, Lily! And she was supposed to not regret it and not think she was a reckless slut after that? She just did what Peter did to her a few weeks ago, except it was even worse for her because she was destroying a whole family... Oh god if Rebecca knew about that... She would hate her for devastating her family. And if her mom could see her right now, she would be so ashamed of her own daughter!

She felt terrible, unable to keep listening to him being all cute while West took the phone because he was missing his daddy, so she got up, picked clean clothes in her super messy suitcase, and went to clean up in the bathroom, avoiding looking at herself in the mirror. He was still on the phone, naked in his bed, when she got out, fresh and dressed.

“I don't know yet, we'll probably go to see our old school or something.” She heard him say to Vicki. He looked at her and winked. She went to check her phone on the armchair near the window.

“I gotta go, Vic. Kiss Maison for me. I'll call when she wakes up.” He hung up and went to the bathroom to clean up too. While she waited for him, Lily tried to eat a bit of the chicken salad Misha brought earlier, but all she could hear were the words whore and home wrecker, resonating again and again in her mind, so she gave up eating, feeling nauseous.

When he got out of the bathroom all dressed and ready to go, she observed him, and something bothered her.

“You look like you don't feel an ounce of guilt...” It startled him so he leaned on the table right next to her. “That was fast... I thought you'd reject your guilt a little longer.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “You just fucked another woman and talked to your wife and kid right after and you act like this is totally normal when it's definitely not.”

He crossed his arms. How could he be so insouciant? “That's how you see it?” “That's exactly what it was, Misha! How blind are you?” “I just made love to the woman I was supposed to marry but lost tragically twenty years ago. We are lucky enough to have a second chance, Lily... I won't let that slip away from me without fighting. I tried to stop missing you, to stop loving you, to stop wanting you, but I can't, you hear me? I can't lose you twice.”

Damn it! He knew perfectly how to make her feel like jelly!

“I don't feel guilty because I know what I'm doing. I know Vicki, I'll talk to her. Then I'll figure something out depending on her reaction.” “Depending on her reaction??? She will fly to Seattle with her crying kids who lost their daddy, and she'll get to me and slit my throat while I sleep and expose my head to the world! And she will be RIGHT about it!"

He didn't want to, but he slammed his hand on his mouth and laughed uncontrollably. “Are you fucking laughing? Is this funny to you?” “Your reaction kinda is, yeah! Do you hear yourself? You should avoid anticipating reactions of people you don't know. I'm pretty sure I know what Vicki will do or say, and I can only tell you you're far from the truth.” "No. You will shut up about it and preserve what you have. She doesn't have to know does she?" "Yes, she has to know, first because we are honest with each other about everything, and then because it will happen again."

As appealing and exciting as it sounded in his mouth, she couldn't imagine herself being that kind of woman. "No, Misha. It won't happen again. Consider this a... I don't know... a closure fuck."

He grabbed her arm and forced her to stand facing him. He was still leaning on the table, so he spread his legs and pulled her towards him, then took her chin in his hand and kissed her. Oh god that mouth... She couldn't help but kiss him back, feeling her legs getting weaker and weaker. He left her mouth to look intensely into her eyes.

"It will..." He leaned to suck on her neck. "happen..." He traveled to her ear and tugged on her earlobe with his teeth and her eyes rolled. "again." He pressed her hips to his crotch and she tried to suppress a moan but failed miserably.

"That's it...I'm going to hell." She had a second of lucidity and drew back from him, sitting back on her chair. "Okay, you have a point, I'm weak and you and your fucking perfect body are devilish. That doesn't mean I want that." "Seriously? You're still gonna pretend you don't want us to be together after that? Bullshit!" "I don't know what I want, Misha! Actually yeah... I want us to go back in time and get out of the hospital after the fire with everyone still alive, and we would go to college and get married and be happy like we planned. Can we do that? NO! Every other scenario where I would have to share you or destroy your family is unacceptable."

"Are you done? Who said you would have to share? You're just scared, I understand that, and it's normal. I won't force you to anything, and I won't do anything before talking to Vicki. But unlike you, I know exactly what I want, I will give up only if I know for sure that you don't want it too. But for now... We should go out of this room and have some fresh air to clear our minds. How about we go to the park, then we can go have dinner somewhere, and you know what I would love to do?" Her face turned into a puzzled expression as she squinted her eyes. "I would love to check out of here and spend our last night at the farm."

She almost gasped. "What? There's nothing there! No water, no power... No beds!" "Like I care. I lived like that before, remember?"

Oh snap... Of course she remembered but she hadn't thought about it and now she felt slightly embarrassed and guilty. "Yeah you did but... This is different... I mean... It's wild and full of... Insects and who knows what else and..." He chuckled. "When did you become so townie? You're a countryside girl! Where did your adventurous spirit go?" "It burnt away."

That harsh comment hit Misha like an ice cold shower. "I refuse to let you become that kind of person. We're going, period."

He stood up, put his jacket on, took his suitcase and left the room to go check out at the front desk, taking her with him by the hand. Lily sighed but had no other choice but to follow him... It's gonna be a damn long night.

[swimmingnewsie]

Ten Minutes Ago - Prologue

Hi guys! It’s been a really long time since I’ve post fic and even longer since I’ve posted Newsies fic. But with help of my amazing collaborator @ig0tfriends, we have written a multichapter fic. Swimmingcrutch is back and better than ever. 

Summary:  When the death of King Joseph comes, the child of Princess Katherine and Prince Jack is in need to find a partner to continue the family line. What better way to do that than with a ball? A Newsies Cinderella AU featuring Jack and Katherine as amazing monarchs, genderfluid Smalls, Races as a fairy godmother, and an adorable Crutchie.

Also posted to AO3 for convenience

Enjoy!

It was always nice to come home. For Smalls, being home meant all dangers were abated and he could breathe. He didn’t have to worry about sleeping in cold grassy fields as they awaited battle to come or how to command an army when he hardly had the will to fight himself. As he and his troops approached the castle gates, it was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Smalls!” He could hear his mother calling him from the second he entered the grounds.

“Mama!” Smalls ran and gave a tight hug to his mother, Princess Katherine.

Katherine squeezed tight, feeling the relief of having her child home and safe. “How are you, my little one?”

Smalls laughed at his mother. She was always good about these kinds of things. “Your little boy is doing well,” he beamed. “I missed you.”

“And I missed you more than you could imagine. Though your father may argue he missed you more.” Katherine placed a kiss on her son’s forehead. “Come, let us go inside and see him.”

The doormen immediately opened the wide, wrought-iron gates to the castle without so much as a word between any of them. Still, they could hardly suppress smiles at the homecoming of their beloved prince. It was a rare thing to have all denizens of a kingdom be enamored of their royal family, but Princess Katherine, Prince Jack and their child made it easy to be liked by all, even if King Joseph was a little insufferable at times. Since the passing of Queen Kate and Princess Lucille, things had been shaky, but Princess Katherine led amicably alongside her father, leading to peace between all those who inhabited their kingdom.

With the great blare of a trumpet, the pair of prince and mother strode inside the castle walls. Servants hustled to and fro, each one taking the time to smile at the princess and son. One maiden with yellow flowers in her arms rushed up to Katherine, made a quick curtsy, and addressed the princess as fast as she could.

“The prince is in his studio, your royal highness. He asked not to be disturbed unless it was absolutely necessary!”

“While my husband may be enthralled in his art, I do believe he will wish to see his son home from battle.” Katherine smiled. Neither she nor Jack had known when Smalls was to be home. The war had ended about three weeks ago, so they had been expecting him any day. “Would you tell him we will be in the throne room?“

The maiden curtsied once more, nodding, and quickly gave a shy smile to the prince. It was hardly a secret on the castle grounds that he was favored by most of the young servants, all thinking Smalls terribly pretty and handsome. But the maiden scurried away without another word, and it was then that a rackety clattering click-click noise squealed into the hallway. Steering a most formidable wheelchair down the hall – formidable because the crotchety old man it belonged to used it to drive over everyone’s toes – was an aging, graying old man dressed in a crown and doublet that were fashionable about fifteen years earlier.

“Katherine!” called the wizened old man, giving a baleful eye and a wag of a crooked finger to all who passed him by. There was a reason most addressed him as Pulitzer. King Joseph was a name for a kind old grandfather, whilst his surname from birth far more suited the man he became. “Katherine! Where’s Hannah? She was supposed to return an hour ago with my completed treatise on gnomes!”

“She was in the garden last I saw, Father,” Katherine replied. “Perhaps doing more research for you?” She looked at her son, giving him a light rub on the shoulder. “Are you not going to greet your grandson?”

“I’ll greet my granddaughter,” he spat. “Hello, my sweet Samantha. I’m glad you’re back from that foolish errand, running an army. The army your father should have been running,” Pulitzer snarled. “But you’re done with all that now aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Smalls grit his teeth, but merely gave his grandfather a graceful bow. “Yes, Grandfather.”

Pulitzer gave a grunt of disgust before lapsing into a bout of coughs. Swatting away the servants like flies, he resisted all offers of assistance. With one last glance at his ‘granddaughter’, the old man turned his wheelchair around and sped past his daughter just in time to meet Hannah, a young woman who normally acted as Pulitzer’s assistant, who was teetering underneath a large stack of paperwork.

“I will see you at dinner time!” he called back, though he barely glanced back at all. “Have Samantha wear her blue dress – the one I bought her! HANNAH! I hope you collected all the information on the feeding habits of gnomes that I requested!”

As Pulitzer exited, another door opened, this time admitting a much more jovial man with bright brown eyes and paint-splattered hands.

“Smalls! How are you doing, kid?”

Smalls couldn’t help but grin. Maybe his grandfather didn’t understand, but the ones that mattered did.

Another day, another hour of mucking pig slop. At least that was the way it seemed to Crutchie, who stood in the middle of the once tame pasture, surrounded by numerous barnyard animals. He stood up once more, resting the shovel against the trough as he wiped the sweat from his brow. The once-comforting fabric pinned to the top of his crutch was soaked through with sweat from too many days of hard labor to count.

If anyone had chosen to walk by at that very moment, they would have assumed he, dressed in ragged clothes, was a simple farmhand or stable boy. No one would have ever known that Crutchie, formerly the young Lord Robert of the very estate he was now mucking pig slop on, was the son of a (formerly) wealthy merchant.

But all that was in the past. Now, he was only Crutchie, the crippled servant of the household. No one, even if they did walk past, would suspect anything different.

“Did you finish cleaning the manure?” his step-brother Morris called out. He walked out into the field, coming up close. Cruelly, he pushed Crutchie’s crutch into the pile of manure on the ground. Crutchie, barely having time to form a look of panic on his face, quickly found himself tossed into the pile of manure as well.

“Missed a spot,” Morris laughed, walking off.

Crutchie sighed, feeling the gross sensation against his skin. He had never understood why his step-brothers were so mean to him. He had never treated them with anything but kindness since they were children and yet they were still so cruel.

As if it wasn’t mean enough, Oscar came up close behind Morris dumping a pile of fresh manure into the pile. “Oops, it slipped,” he said menacingly. “But you can take care of it, can’t you, Crutchie?”

“Course I can, Oscar,” Crutchie managed to glare at his step brother but neatly bit his tongue to stop any biting reply he had in mind from slipping out. Ignoring both of the mocking grins plastered on his retreating step brother’s faces, Crutchie stubbornly stood his crutch up and stood up himself. He shuddered, praying he wouldn’t be sick at the sight and smell of the manure his back, arms and legs were now covered in.

Slowly, he picked up his shovel and finished piling up the manure. Before he could become sick from the smell, he managed to get himself into the creek. It may have been wet, but it was better than the sticky manure on his skin and clothing.

“‘Ey, Bobby boy, what happened to you?” a neighbor of his crossed over to the creek, cigar hanging from his mouth. “Fall into some cow crap again?”

“More like pushed in,” Crutchie mumbled. “But I’m fine, thanks for asking, Race.”

“Hey – hey kid, you’d tell me if anyone was givin’ you trouble, right?” Race gave the younger boy a tap on his shoulder. To his chagrin, Crutchie flinched away, his eyes filling with fear for half a second before they filled with shame instead.

“Course I would,” Crutchie answered with a fake smile, but did not return the gentle punch, “Thanks, Race. I mean it.”

“Alright, kid. Well I’ll let you get back to your swim. Gotta go make a deal for some new cigars.” He gave one last smile and was on his way.

“Crutchie, I swear to God you better get up here and clean this mess!”

His step-father. Snyder.

Well, there went his cleansing swim. There was work that needed to be done whether he was covered in manure or not. Crutchie pulled himself out of the water and onto the grassy bank, barely drying off his now soaked clothing. Once upon a time he would have believed it was no big deal to come home soaked to the bone – but this was no home anymore, and his step father seemed to hate him with a passion. Taking one last glance across the creek, Crutchie slipped his crutch under his arm and set off for the manor house.

Smalls waited in anxiety for his grandfather to arrive at dinner. He was in fact not wearing the blue dress his grandfather had bought. He knew it would cause a scene, but Smalls could not handle wearing that today. He felt far too much like a boy to put it on.

Sure he had attempted- no one liked to anger his grandfather if they could help it- but when he tried to wear the dress, he felt as though he was going to cry. His mother came in and helped him dress in his best shirt and tie, constantly reassuring him that it was okay to be their little boy today- even if Grandfather didn’t approve.

Half an hour had passed since dinner was meant to begin and Grandfather still wasn’t at the table.

“Hannah, have you seen Father?” Katherine asked, looking across the table.

“No, your highness. It isn’t like him to be this late. He’s probably looking over those reports on gnomes,” she sighed. “I will go check in on him.” Quickly after, Hannah left the dining room in search of Pulitzer.

“Personally, it may be a miracle your father’s late,” Jack winked at Katherine. “He’s getting to be a real pain in the –”

“Jack!” Katherine admonished him, and Jack grimaced.

“Smalls, he was hounding me everyday since you left,” the prince confided, “Kept nagging me about why I wasn’t doing ‘official royal duties’ when I was painting –which, by the way, is in fact an official royal duty now –”

A loud, piercing shriek interrupted Jack’s tirade, immediately freezing the blood of everyone assembled in the hall.

“King Pulitzer is dead!”

Along with shoveling manure, feeding the animals, and tending to other chores outside, one of Crutchie’s main responsibilities was to bring the meals to his ever-so-kind household. Breakfast was his first priority in the morning, and he busied himself with balancing the dishes on his arms as he walked out to greet his step-father and brothers without a word.

“I can’t believe King Pulitzer finally kicked the bucket!” Morris said looking up from the paper. News was only delivered every two weeks, giving him plenty to catch up on. “And that his kid is already pushing to get Princess Samantha a new husband.”

“‘Ey, Morris it says right here that everyone is invited to this ball thing. Maybe I could be king,” Oscar said, all hoity-toity.

Morris shoved his brother. “Like a baboon like you could be king. The princess needs a real gentleman, like me.” Morris shoved Oscar again, this time bumping him into Crutchie. “Hey! Watch where you’re going! You coulda spilled breakfast all over me!”

Crutchie, who had momentarily lost his balance, caught a disapproving glare from his step-father and quickly gave Morris another egg for breakfast. “It won’t happen again,” he muttered, limping around the table as fast as he could to distribute the rest of the meal. “Can I get ya anything else?” He asked, avoiding his stepfather’s eyes.

“Coffee’s stale. Make a new pot,” Snyder scowled, taking the newspaper from his sons. “And that’s enough roughhousing with your brother, Morris. Both of you will be going to the ball for a chance at Princess Samantha’s hand.”

Crutchie hobbled out to the kitchen to make fresh coffee, but was still able to hear his step-family’s booming voices..

“Hey- hey, Pa, I heard that that princess, sometimes she ain’t no princess. That she thinks she’s a boy sometimes. We can’t marry no prince! That’s just wrong!”

In the kitchen, Crutchie flinched, nearly knocking over the pot of coffee he was making. At the mention of marrying a prince, he had straightened his back and stood up taller than he normally did. He wouldn’t mind marrying a prince or princess but he knew neither of those would ever happen anyway. Not while he was under the unjust thumb of his step family.

But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t dream.

Dream of dancing with Samantha. Twirling her, or him if that’s how he felt, feeling their body close to his. Kissing them, loving them. Having someone care about him, not just as a servant, but as a person.

A whistling kettle drew him from his thoughts. The time for dreaming was done.  There were no princes or princesses here, just work to be done. Coffee needed brewing, and chores needed completing.

Maybe one day though, just maybe, that dream would be true.

[crushonjoo]

I Just Missed You, Hyung

My second entry into the GOT7 Rare Pair Bingo and it’s a Bamjae this time, yay! I love Bamjae! 😍😍😍 The prompt I used this time was “Silence”!

Rated: G Progress: Completed/One-Shot Word Count:  1,031 Pairing: Youngbam/Bamjae ao3 link aff link 

Description: BamBam returns home from a trip to Thailand and realizes he misses having Youngjae there to welcome him back. 

BamBam turned the door and entered the large, still-unfamiliar dorm that six of them called home. The six of them, he thought, as he sighed loudly as he took off his shoes to walk through the dorm to get to his and Yugyeom’s shared room.

Yugyeom would already be asleep like he usually was late at night so BamBam would have to be quiet in order to not wake his roommate up. BamBam had just returned from Thailand for a product advertisement deal he was currently working on and he was exhausted but at the same time he felt uneasy and a bit sad.

Normally BamBam would come in from his flights late and night and most of the members would be sleeping already. He would be exhausted and worn out, but usually never sleepy. He normally slept on the plane so by the time he got home he was usually awake again. Unfortuantely, everyone else would already be sleeping. Everyone except one certain hyung who often stayed up to play PC games way too late.

It’s no wonder that Youngjae always had such a hard time waking up in the mornings. Sometimes BamBam arrived home past 3:00am and Youngjae could still be heard clicking the mouse and typing away. Tonight was one of those nights that BamBam had arrived home way too late but he stopped and got an iced americano on the way home. That, paired with the fact that he did indeed sleep well on the plane, meant that he was wide awake by the time he arrived home.

But when he walked into the new spacious dorm, he couldn’t hear any clicking or typing, and there were no lights on. Because Youngjae wasn’t there. He wouldn’t be there anymore from now on either. BamBam stopped in the kitchen to grab a snack before he turned on the television and flipped through the channels even though he already knew nothing would be on this late.

As he laid his head back on the couch, he closed his eyes and thought about Youngjae in his new home with his brother. He wondered what Youngjae was doing now. Was he playing games late at night late like BamBam had grown accustomed to coming home to? Maybe his brother stayed up with him and they were playing together.

BamBam knew how much Youngjae loved and missed his older brother and sister, so he could only imagine how happy Youngjae must be spending so much time with his hyung. But what about his other brothers, like him, Yugyeom, and Jaebum? BamBam knew that maybe it was selfish of him to see things this way, but it was a new feeling and he was still getting used to the situation. He’d been living with Youngjae – and the rest of the members, for that matter – for so many years now that having someone gone was just strange.

BamBam wasn’t angry with Youngjae or with his older brother. He understood that the situation worked well for them – Youngjae missed his brother, his brother surely missed Youngjae. Living in Seoul isn’t cheap and his brother probably needed some financial assistance as well which Youngjae could fully provide. His brother wouldn’t have to worry about anything, and there’s even a silver lining here at his own dorm. Jaebum brought Nora home and he even picked up a few more cats.

This is a good thing, he thought to himself. But he couldn’t bring himself to fully accept it when he was sitting here alone in the dark, everyone else fast asleep and him wide awake. Youngjae wasn’t even living very far from the dorm and he still came over often, but that was beside the point. He just really, really missed his Youngjae-hyung.

He sat there with his eyes closed momentarily, debating whether or not he should just call Youngjae. Youngjae might actually be sleeping, in which case it would be extremely rude to wake up him. Youngjae might not be openly upset but he knew that the older boy did not appreciate being woken up at all. He decided it was probably best to just send a text instead.

BamBam: Hey hyung, are you awake?

BamBam held his phone in his hand, hoping that Youngjae was awake to talk to him. Within a few minutes he received a text message back from Youngjae and he felt his lips curl up into a smile.

Youngjae-hyung: Hi Bammie. Did you just get home?

BamBam: Yeah. Everyone else is asleep. What are you doing?

Youngjae-hyung: I’m just playing Overwatch. Is everything okay?

BamBam: Everything is fine hyung. Why?

Youngjae-hyung: It’s really late but you’re texting me instead of sleeping. Why didn’t you go to bed?

BamBam: Well I slept a lot on the flight…

Youngjae-hyung: Oh okay.

BamBam: Honestly though I just missed you, hyung.

BamBam waited but he didn’t receive another text back from Youngjae. A few minutes passed and he started to wonder why Youngjae didn’t respond. It’s not unlike them to tell each other things like that so what was the problem? Just as soon as he was about to toss his phone to the other side of the couch, the screen lit up and the ringtone went off. Youngjae had decided to call him instead.

“Oh, hyung. Hey.” BamBam said, feeling instant regret for getting so upset at Youngjae over nothing. “Hi Bam. What are you doing?”

“I’m just sitting on the couch. There’s nothing to do. Nothing on tv to watch either.” BamBam mumbled. “Why don’t you play Overwatch with me?” Youngjae asked, and BamBam immediately agreed to it.

BamBam was going to hang up to go log onto the game, but Youngjae told him to wait a minute. “Bam you know you can call me any time right? Actually if you want to, you can just come to mine and hyung’s apartment if it’s late like this and you want to hang out. It’s not a big deal. Okay?”

BamBam smiled to himself before, “Yeah I know hyung. I’ll take you up on that next time. Thanks.”

“No problem Bammie. I’ll talk to you in game then?” “Yeah, see you soon Youngjae-hyung.”

[kittyxuchiha11]

Savin’ you is all I’m good at - Part 6

Read on AO3

Summary: “So she isn’t puttin’ up a fight and I’m like, hold on a minute what’s going on here? I’ve got my gun to her head and she- she tells me to bloody kill her! Like this is scary assassin Widowmaker who doesn’t feel emotions, and she’s just like oh yeah Lena it’s no big deal just pull the trigger an’ that”

Widowmaker is acting strangely and Tracer wants to find out why.

Widowtracily (Widow x Tracer x Emily)

*************************************************************************************************

“So” Winston says, a permanent frown on his face as he looks from you to Emily “Talon are planning to attack us?”

 “Yup” you answer casually, already very bored of explaining the details as you’ve done so twice already, and Winston still seems to be unsure of it all.

 “And yet again, I have to ask how did you come across this information?”

 You sigh dramatically, giving Winston your best smile and hoping that’s enough to clear the suspicion he obviously has “Come on big guy, don’t get super serious on me now. You know I ‘ate all this formal crap. Can ya not just give the message out and we can start getting ready to kick their arses?”

 “If I could I wouldn’t be asking, but the higher ups need to know”

 “We have higher ups? thought you were as tall as they got” you say with a grin, earning a rather exasperated face palm from your friend.

 “Lena, please”

 “Okay, okay. I’ll stop with the jokes. But can we just at least tell all this to Athena and see if she can find anythin’?”

 “That’s still not an answer Lena”

 “Look, big guy-”

 “-I found out about it” Emily says suddenly, making both you and Winston look at her in surprise. She’s hardly said a word since you both arrived apart from a few polite pleasantries. Anyone onlooking could obviously tell she was troubled by something, luckily only you know that she’s definitely worried about Widow, and hoping her new friend is safe.

 “You found out about our enemy’s plans?” Winston asks, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. Thankfully Emily seems to be well trained in keeping a straight face and lying blindly while doing it. Something she’s obviously picked up in the years of practice in her field.

 “I was looking into a story with ties to something much bigger. A few phone calls to the right people and the information just sort of fell into my lap” She says, her eyes on Winston’s, and you have to admit even you believe her for a moment “I didn’t mean to find anything like this- it was a story on corrupt banking figures for gods sake, but I sure am glad I did and could warn you in time”

 “Well…thank you Emily, your cooperation is appreciated, of course” He smiles warmly at both of you as if Emily’s explanation really has put him at ease. “I just need to clarify, you didn’t talk to any active Talon agents to get this information, did you?”

 You Look to Emily, the panic obviously evident your eyes because she simply places her hand on your knee and gives it a little squeeze before smiling. “Of course not. Do you really think Lena would let me get near anyone to do with Talon?”

 “Oh, yes, of course” he laughs in that loud friendly way that makes you feel at home “I’m just going through procedures for information gathering. I know Lena is way too over protective to let you near any Talon members, but I still have to check”

 “You know me too well big guy” you say cheerfully, hoping the nervousness of lying to one your best friend stays out of your voice. From the smile you get back from him you’re pretty sure you’re safe.

 “With all that sorted, I’ll send all this to the higher ups” He pauses for a moment, turning towards the console in his office “Athena, stop recording and send the relevant audio to the commander and security chief”

 “Yes Winston” comes Athena’s voice over the large speaker above your heads “Cropping Audio and condensing into a file now…Done, and sent to the relevant participants”

 “Thank you, Athena” Winston says with a small smile before turning back to you “Now business matters are out the way, how are you both?”

 “We’re good” Emily answers for you “Such a shame this all had to come up now, Lena just got home and now she’s back here again”

 “Ah yes, an Overwatch agents job is never done” Winston’s say with a soft chuckle. “I’m glad you’ve both taken this so well, and come to us with such interesting information. Plus, it’s been months since I’ve seen you in person Emily”

 “It has, hasn’t it? The last time was Christmas wasn’t it?”

 “Yes, when you both joined Athena and I for Christmas dinner”

 “Oh yeah” you say, memories of that day fluttering through your head as a small smile pulls at your lips. You don’t often like to get sentimental, but spending time with Emily and Winston is one of those rare occasions where you’re completely content and don’t have the worry about the world that’s falling down around you. You enjoy their company equally, and when you all spend time together you can’t help but look back on those memories with a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your stomach.

 A strange feeling comes over you as you realise that feeling you’d only ever associated with being loved and happy comes up with other people too. You’d simply thought that because Emily meant the world to you, and Winston being one of your best friends meant that that warm fuzzy feeling was just for them. But it comes out at other times too, maybe a little more weakly, but it’s still there. When you see Fareeha is looking and Angela with such love and adoration, When Reinhardt laughs his big loud laugh and nearly knocks you to the floor by patting your back, When you beat Hana at a video game and she gives you that signature pout of hers but then smiles a wonderful smile. Most worrying out of all these examples is the fact Widow also makes you feel like this. When she saved you, your chat on the rooftop last month, even your conversation from yesterday brought on that feeling. At first you’d thought that feeling simply meant happiness, it came in small bursts with friends but larger ones with people you loved more. But now, now you’re not sure. Whatever it is, it’s as intense with Widow as it is with Emily, and honestly, that scares you quite a lot.

 You realise you’ve been quite literally lost in your own thoughts when You hear Winston’s voice pull you back to reality and realise him and Emily have started a whole other conversation.  You try to listen in, but your heads not really in the right place. That is of course until Winston says a certain snipers name and then all you can do is listen.

 “How are you finding the Widowmaker file?” he asks, something clouding his eyes you can’t read “I haven’t read it all myself, but I’ve been told by Angela it’s a tough read”

 Emily seems to wince a little bit, obviously recalling exactly what’s in that file and shuddering. You know she’s read it all and watched all the videos several times, you’d woken up in the middle of the night once to find her in the living room watching a video from it with silent tears streaking down her cheeks. You hadn’t needed to speak to give her comfort, only walked over and carefully wrapped your arms around her. She’d hugged you back, pushing the device aside and telling you in a choked-up voice that she needed to save Amalie. You’d tried to remind her then and there that Widowmaker is not Amelie anymore, but Emily was in such a state she didn’t want to hear it, and just kept repeating that she needed to save her over and over again until she’s cried herself to sleep in your arms.

 The next day you both acted like the night before hadn’t happened and left it at that. Emily was not known for crying, if anything she was the one to hold you when you cried. That’s when it became very obvious to you that Emily was even more invested in saving her than you were, and although there should have been some concern or worry, you amazingly felt perfectly okay about it. That was probably another worrying feeling to add to the ever-growing list you have now.

 “It’s a very hard read” Emily admits quietly, earning a sad smile from Winston. He’s about to touch her arm comfortingly when she smiles at him, and he freezes as if her smile has shocked him “It’s terrible everything Talon did to her, but also very interesting medically. It really helped that article about gene altering I was hired to write”

 You try really hard not to smile at the fact Emily had the perfect excuse for getting the file, and by the looks of how Winston is now talking to her on the topic of gene altering, he doesn’t suspect that file was originally meant for you at all. You know everyone has been worried about how fascinated you are with Widow, and seeing Winston fully believing Emily having that file has nothing to do with you is nice. Not that you don’t mind your friends concern, but the lectures on not befriending the enemy do get tiring. If only they all knew exactly how you’re feeling about Widow now, you’d probably never ever hear the end of it.

 “Well, I better let you two get some rest. It is late after all” Winston says, nodding at you as Emily stands from her seat. You quickly follow her lead, both of you saying your goodbyes before making your way to your room. Emily has only been here a couple of times before, but she seems to know where she’s going better than you do. You watch in awe as she turns down corridors confidently and before you know it you’re standing outside your room.

 “Lena” she says, grabbing your attention, and then motioning to the door. It’s only then that you remember you’re the only one who has a key card for your room and she very well can’t go in until you unlock it. With a slight blush spread across your cheeks you hurriedly fumble in your pocket for the card and press it against the censor. With a quick beep the light turns from red to green and a little click is heard as the lock slides open.

 She gives you a little smirk and you can almost hear her voice telling you she loves it when you get flustered. But she doesn’t actually say those words tonight, just walks into the room and waits for you to follow. Maybe she’s just as exhausted as you are and can’t be bothered trying to tease you. Or maybe she can actually sense how tense and dangerous this situation has become since both of you are now on pretty good terms with an actual enemy of Overwatch.

 When you enter the room, you find her already sitting on your small single bed. You’re about to try lighten the mood with a joke about how the bed is too small for the both of you, but then you see the look Emily is giving you, the words die on your lips. Something is wrong, that much is obvious. If she’s scared about what could happen, or even worried about Widow you don’t know, but something is definitely up with her.

 Her eyes met yours and her lips twitch into a small smile as she pats the bed beside her. You do as you’re told, sitting down to her right and letting her take your hand when she reaches for it.

 “You okay luv?” you ask, already knowing the answer but hoping you can at least cheer her up if nothing else.

 “Yeah…It’s just” She starts, cutting herself off with a sigh “…Lena, I have to tell you something”

 Fear takes a tight grip of you at her words, but you try to calm yourself, swallowing the knot in your throat before nodding at her. She hesitates for just a moment before turning to look into your eyes, a real vulnerable look shining in them.

 “While you were away on your mission, I ended up meeting Amelie while I was out, quite a few times actually” she says, nervousness evident in her voice as she seems to scan your face for a reaction. You try not to give her one, listening to see where this is leading exactly. “She…She isn’t a bad person Lena. When I said I think she has some good in her, I was telling the truth. I’ve spent time with her, Seen that she’s way more than just a weapon to Talon”

 You don’t really know what to say, if anything you’re impressed she managed to meet the assassin and come out of it completely unharmed. Although from what you’ve seen already you don’t think Widow would ever harm Emily. You should probably be upset that she didn’t tell you this earlier, but you find yourself sort of relieved that Emily seems to really get on with Widow for some reason. You’re not sure why that makes you feel the way but it does, so you don’t question it.

 “I should have told you sooner I know, but I was planning to let you have a nice first day back then tell you tomorrow” She laughs softly to herself “But you never stop working, even on your first proper day off you’re back at work in the evening”

 “Is that why ya got so upset when I said we couldn’t trust her?” you find yourself asking as things from your chat earlier in the park start to make sense. No wonder Emily had such a strong reaction to saving Widow if they’d spent a good couple of days together. That thought brings a whole bunch of new questions into your head.

 “Wait, what did ya even do when you spent time together?”

 Emily squeezes your hand and gives you this smug little smirk in response “Are you jealous Lena?”

 You scoff “I’m not jealous, just concerned she’s brainwashin’ you for Talon or somethin’” you mumble in reply, and she actually giggles.

 “You, we talked about you” comes her blunt answer, which comes as a little bit of a shock to you although it really shouldn’t at this point “It’s what we have in common, although she’s way too shy in admitting she feels anything for you. I could barely get her to admit she’s here to protect you, she just kept going on about how she needed to keep me safe from Talon, and if she could save you along the way that would be nice”

 “You make it sound like she has a sense of humour or somethin’” you say dryly, earning a light hit to your arm and a grin from Emily in response.

 “She does, the whole actually having emotions again thing helps with that”

 “Starting to sound like you enjoy spending time with her luv” you say teasingly hoping to get sort of reaction out of her. As expected, her cheeks turn pink making her freckles stand out even more. and all you want to do is kiss her and tell her how cute she is. You expected her to get embarrassed and flustered, but what you don’t expect is for her to have a sincere reply.

 “She’s…fun? I don’t know, she’s different. I liked when she’d hang around me because then I knew she was safe and away from Talon. I guess I really liked spending time with her actually”

 “Now I really am jealous” you say with a grin, for the first time actually understanding exactly how Emily feels about Widow. Maybe your strange feelings towards the assassin aren’t so strange at all if your girlfriend feels sort of the same way, but then again you guess Emily’s feelings don’t run quite as deeply as yours probably do. You try not to think about it too much, instead focusing on the girl in front of you and how she tries to laugh at you but she interrupts herself with a yawn. She looks at you sheepishly, knowing you’re going to make some remark about her being tired and beats you too it.

 “Well I guess we better get to bed, we’ve had a pretty long day”

 “Yeah no kiddin’, I’m knackered” You say, watching Emily as she ushers you off the bed and strips off her shirt and jeans before climbing under the covers. She looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to join her, and for a moment you think about saying you’ll come to bed later. You do have people you should talk to, but on the other hand, there’s a gorgeous girl in your bed and you simply can’t say no to that offer. You quickly rid yourself of your clothes, hanging your accelerator on the hook beside the bed, and join Emily under the covers, giggling with her as she gives you a little shove when pretending to push you out the bed.

 “Athena” you say, your face now tucked into Emily’s neck as she drapes an arm around your waist “switch off the lights would ya”

 “Of course” says Athena’s voice before the room plunges into darkness “Goodnight agent Oxten, and Miss Emily”

 You feel Emily smile against your head where her lips were a second ago pressing a small kiss there. “Night Athena”

  Your stay at the watchpoint is fairly uneventful until the third day comes around. All Overwatch agents who answered the recall were called to the watchpoint for their own protection, and because really, the more people there are to fight the better chance they have of surviving Talon’s attack. With everyone in one place there had been the usual banter there always is, but everyone is just a bit more on edge. Of course, that doesn’t stop Hana and Lucio having a pro gaming session, and then wrestling to determine who really wins when the game ends in a draw. Angela had simply sighed loudly while patching them up, while Fareeha encouraged them to let her join next time, which made her receive a deadly glare from her partner and excited grin form the younger ones.

 At the end of the third day, you find Emily already asleep in your room, one arm tucked securely to her chest while the other hangs off the bed with a small handgun just out of reach. You frown at the sight, knowing Emily really doesn’t like guns or violence at all. Someone must have convinced her she needed a gun on her for safety reasons. It was probably soldier, he is but far the biggest gun fan in Overwatch, and pretty much obsessed with keeping his team safe.

 You make your way over the cupboard, trying to sift through it as quietly as possible as not to wake Emily up. After a bit of searching, you find the blanket she bought you for your one year anniversary. You’ve always kept the orange fuzzy blanket at the watchpoint as a sort of good luck charm, and a reminder of the girl you had waiting for you at home. A smile pulls as your lips as your fingers run over the soft material before you carefully infold it and drape it over your girlfriend’s sleeping form. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, instead she turns over and luckily doesn’t take the gun on the floor with her. You watch her for a moment before leaning down and picking up the small gun, making sure the safety is definitely on before placing in on your bedside table. You’re just about to place a kiss on Emily’s head when you hear a soft knock at the door.

 When the door slides open Angela is standing there waiting for you. You smile at her, expecting her to smile back. She does smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, which tells you something is obviously wrong. She looks past you to Where Emily is sleeping on the bed.

 “I was hoping I could talk to you, but it seems your room is already occupied”

 You nod, already stepping out of the room and pressing the small button to close the door. Angela looks at you, almost as if she’s sizing you up before she gestures to her left in the hallway. “My office will have to do then”

 “Lead the way, doc” you say cheerfully, although you’ve spent way too much time in the infirmary and her office to not know where it is at this point. It’s deadly quiet on the walk to her office, even the sounds of you friends chatting in the main room sounds so far away and almost ghostly. It’s a little creepy actually, you’ve never noticed how creepy this part of the watchpoint is at this time of night, and can now understand why Angela likes having Fareeha walk her to and from her office. Not that she has much of a choice as Fareeha is rather glued to her. Speaking of her actually…

 “Where’s Fareeha?” you ask as you’re nearing her office. Angela just shrugs in reply, fishing her keycard out of her pocket as you approach the door “Still with Ana and Reinhardt I guess. I left them when they started to play this game called pictionary”

 “Oh, me and Em played that with Winston at new years, it was well good”

 “I do not see the appeal, but then I am not much of an artist, and I’m a terrible loser”

 “Oh, I know Angie” you say with a laugh “Remember when we all played scrabble and you stormed out the room?”

 A blush spreads across Angela’s face and she looks just as flustered as she did when it actually happened “That wasn’t my fault. Jesse was trying to pass of ‘tootin’ as a word. It’s simply not in the dictionary!”

 You laugh at her, already trying to think of other game nights she’s stormed off on because she wasn’t winning. But before you can, she holds open the door to her office for you and you know you better drop it because she does in fact she pointy things in there she can, and will, throw at you.

 Once you’re both inside and seated by her desk she starts talking finally. “How are you doing liebling?”

 “Me?” you ask, caught pretty off guard by such a simple question, especially since she looked so serious when you first opened the door to her. “I’m doing fine, great actually. Didn’t think it was time for my yearly examination yet” you add with a grin, hoping to keep the atmosphere light.

 She smiles softly, looking down at the papers on her desk for a moment “And Emily, how is she?”

 “Good” you answer cautiously, not liking Angela’s tone or her sudden interest in how you both are. Angela is a great friend, kind and of course the best doctor in the world. You’re lucky to have her on your team for most missions, never mind the fact she’s a very good friend to you. But that being said, she is still a medical professional who also knows a great deal about psychology and can read you like a book. So to say you and Em are holding the biggest secret of your lives right now, that really isn’t good for either of you.

 “Good, that’s good. I was wondering if the extra stress of having to hide her from Talon agents was having an effect on either of you, but if you say it isn’t, I can’t do much”

 “We’re both okay. She knew what she was signing up to dating an Overwatch gal and all” you reply cheerfully, adding a little laugh at the end to try uphold the façade that you’re perfectly happy and everything is fine.

 “I’m worried about you, Lena” Angela simply says “You’ve been acting very strangely over the last few months. I thought it maybe was just from the stress of missions, but then when I saw Emily acting so secluded and shut off…”

 “I’m fine luv” you reassure her “Completely fine and so is Em. We had a bit of a tiff before coming here about me not having enough time off, so that’s why she’s been sulking a bit. This was supposed to be our time off together ya know, and we’re stuck ‘ere and she isn’t that happy ‘bout it”

 She looks at you unsurely, and you have a feeling she knows something she isn’t telling you. This feels an awful lot like a test that you’re definitely failing right now. “You would come to me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you Lena?”

 “Haha yeah” you say sounding so incredibly fake that you want to hit yourself. You just want to get out of this situation and fast. You absolutely hate lying to Angela, but it’s for your own good. No, that’s a lie, it’s for Widows’s own good, because no matter how nicely you put it, she’s gonna get in so much shit for this if anyone finds out. Talon will torture and condition her again, and Overwatch won’t do much better. You need to keep everything you know about her a secret, and definitely can’t have Angela knowing anything at all.

 “Anyway, we’re both fine, and if that’s all you wanted I better get back to my room to see Em and-“

 “-Lena” Angela interrupts, making you freeze in your tracks. You’ve gotten as far as standing up from the chair before she’s stopped you, and now you’re just standing there, frozen like an idiot staring at her. She sighs deeply, reaching into her bag on the floor next to her desk and pulling out a data pad. You watch her carefully as she presses a button and the screen comes to life, making you realise exactly who the device belongs to.

 “My data pad! I was wonderin’ where it got too” you say, finally moving from your spot and making your way around the desk.

 “The picture of you and Emily told me it was yours” Angela says, eyeing you almost suspiciously before she touches the screen and a file pops up. You’re confused for a moment to why there would be a file open, unless someone had found it and decided to go through your stuff. Not that there’s really anything that Important on it apart from your emails and-

 Your eyes go wide as the realisation hits exactly what Angela has found.

 “I’ve told you to password protect this, leibling” she says almost threateningly, pressing the screen again and sure enough the Widowmaker file comes up in all its glory. Expect, it’s ten pages into the report on a page made entirely of pictures of the assassin, and to anyone who didn’t know what this was it would look like a weird collage of pictures of your supposed enemy.

 “Angie, I can explain” you start to say although you know you really can’t explain. You don’t even remember opening that file, never mind skipping several pages into it. Actually, now you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you’d even used the device. The last you’d seen it, Emily had been looking at it in the main room while you chatted with your old friends.

 Angela must be able to read the realisation on your face because she raises a brow as if wanting you to explain your amazing epiphany you’ve just had.

 “Emily was using it. Her one broke last month so we’ve been sharing mine-“

 “I’m not stupid Lena. Why would Emily have a file like this? She doesn’t need to know anything about Talon, or about their agents”

 “I- I swear Angie. She asked Winston for it because she needed to write an article on gene altering, and I’d mentioned ‘bout the fact that Widow is kinda blue an’ that”

 She still looks suspicious, but the anger from before is gone and she just looks more confused than anything else now “So…You didn’t steal this file from Athena’s archives”

 “God no luv” you answer, trying to give Angela your most sincere look “I’d never do that, even if I wanted information I’d always ask you or Winston first”

 “I…I apologise then” she says, her eyes on the desk in front of her again “You must understand, this is an uncomfortable topic for me. Anything about Amelie-” She stops herself, taking a large gulp of air before continuing “About Widowmaker isn’t something I like to talk about. After all, Gerard’s death is on me”

 “It’s not your fault” She looks up at you in surprise, finding that you probably have the same surprised expression on your own face. You’re so used to talking about this with Widow that the response just comes naturally. Never in your life have you ever talked to Angela is such a sweet calm voice before. If she suspects anything, she doesn’t show it and just smiles at you. You know you really shouldn’t be talking about it, but you do sort of want to see how far you can push it. You’d ideally love to tell Angela about everything that’s happened and how confused you are about everything, but obviously, you can’t. You do want to see how much you can get away with talking about though, just to gauge her reaction.

 “It isn’t your fault luv, but it wasn’t her fault either” you say, watching as Angela opens her mouth to say something but closes it again.

 “You have read the file then? You know about the conditioning and everything they’ve done to her?” she asks, a strange edge to her voice you’ve never heard before.

 “Yeah” you say simply, studying your friend’s face carefully for a reaction. “I just wanted ta know what really happened to her, ya know, since no one here would tell me”

 “That’s fair enough” Angela says with a small sigh “It’s something no one likes to remember. Amelie was our friend, and when she disappeared we thought she was dead. We mourned for her, dealt with Gerard’s anger and loss for him. And then when she came back- we were all so happy. If I’d paid more attention to her results, if I’d tested her properly to see why her body temperature was so low, maybe we wouldn’t have lost them both. Talon may have created that monster, but I allowed it to kill”

 You don’t know what to say to her at all. So many thoughts fly through your head at a million miles an hour. The most prominent one is that Angela definitely had a very strong attachment to both Amelie and Gerard, and losing them both must have broken her. Seeing your friend like this makes your heart break, and all you want to do is reach out to her and give her the biggest hug you can. But she’s looking at you steadily, if there are tears she isn’t letting them fall and you realise for the first time that Angela may be one of the strongest women you’ve ever met.

 “’m Sorry Angie” you half mumble, not really sure if you should be speaking at all, but at the same time wanting to say something. She shrugs, shaking her head a little and when she looks at you again her focus looks a little better.

 “It doesn’t matter leibling, I should be the one that’s sorry for kepping you up with my troubles”

 “Aw, no, Angie don’t say that” you gush quickly, yet again obviously surprising her because she looks a bit startled “You can come to me anytime ya know, I’m here to listen. That’s what friends are for, right?”

 She looks unsure for a moment but then gives you a small smile “Of course, I’ll keep that in mind” she says, handing you your data pad and then walking a few steps towards the door before turning back to look at you.

 “We both better turn in for the night, Fareeha will come searching for me if I don’t go back to our room soon”

 “Let me guess, I don’t want to see a tired Fareeha?” you ask teasingly with a grin.

 “She might rip you to shreds for keeping me away from her, and that’s if she’s in a good mood” Angela says, a smile that matches yours on her face. You’re incredibly glad she seems to be back to her usual self now, and wonder if maybe she’s needed to say all that out loud for a while now.

 You both make your way out of her office and back to your rooms, Angela walking you to your door and giving you a tight hug before she goes on her way to her own room. When you open the door Emily stirs and blinks at you tiredly.

 “Didn’t mean to wake ya luv, go back to sleep” you say softly, crossing the room and running your fingers through her slightly frizzy hair. She groans softly but seems to do as she’s told and closes her eyes again.

 You get ready for bed and slide in beside her, trying really hard not to make much noise or movement but it seems all for nothing because as soon as you’re under the covers beside her, she attaches onto like a koala and mumbles something sleepily. You laugh softly, turning into her arms so you’re face to face. Her eyes are closed but she’s obviously still awake, but just very sleepy.

 “Where you been?” she grumbles, trying to pull you closer although it’s pretty impossible as she’s as close as she can be to you.

 “Talking to Angie” You answer simply, intending to leave it just there but then the thought crosses your mind that you should probably ask her if she was looking at Widow’s file. “She found our data pad ‘nd it had Widow’s file open on it. Where ya looking at it?”

 Emily makes a strange groaning sound which could be taken as a yes or a no. It’s all you’re going to get from her you think, but then then she speaks up again “She’s pretty”

 “What?” you ask, slightly amused at the weird things Emily is saying in her half-asleep state.

 “Amelie-Widow, whatever. She’s nice to look at”

 You actually giggle at that, pressing a quick kiss to Emily’s forehead “You gay disaster Em, that’s supposed to be my job”

 “Hmmm, we can be gay disasters together” is the reply you get and you laugh again, only receiving an annoyed sleepy groan in response now.

 You Fall asleep with your arms around the girl you love, while you mind wonders to another girl, who so many people use to love.