#I might be getting sick too and we’re on fire again. I wanna nap…

[inubaki]

The Sea Queen

Chapter 8

——

story commissioned by the amazing @libby-for-life! Based off one of the first pics @sir-tater-of-the-tot made that got me hooked on this fandom to began with. I blame them entirely.

———

Adam gazed out from the dim confines of his cave, the salty mist of the ocean gently curling around him, as he released a melancholy sigh. Years had drifted by like the sand on the ocean floor, and in the depths of his heart, he had lost count of how long he had been submerged beneath the waves. The promise that Lucifer had made—binding and unwavering—was now realized: their undersea home, once serene, was now a bustling haven for Krakens. Swarming about him were not just strangers of the deep but his own progeny, countless offspring and grand-offspring that he cherished, each a vibrant testament to his legacy.

Yet, as night cloaked the world outside and silence settled like a thick blanket, Adam often found his thoughts spiraling back to the life he had left behind. The tumultuous echoes of his former existence haunted him during these quiet hours. He recalled the laughter and warmth of those he had loved, the memories that felt like distant stars shimmering just out of reach. Night after night, while the Krakens slumbered or drifted off to their own homes, he couldn't shake the haunting realization that his found family—the one he had forged through trials and triumphs—was likely scattered by the currents of time, their stories entwined with the vast ocean, perhaps long forgotten by the world above.

The sorrow wrapped around him like the very sea that cradled his cave, and despite the love he felt for his undersea family, a deep longing for the days gone by weighed heavily on his heart. In moments of solitude, he grieved for the connections that had faded, leaving only shadows in the depths of his memory.

"My love, what are you doing out here?" Lucifer's deep, resonant voice cut through the tranquil sounds of the ocean. He approached Adam from behind, wrapping his strong, sinuous arms around him in a warm embrace. Adam leaned into the warmth, feeling a rush of affection as he turned to meet Lucifer's gaze. 

A soft smile graced Adam's lips, one that held a lifetime of memories. There had been a time, long ago, when he despised the creature that now enveloped him in tenderness. The memories of their horrible past felt like echoes of another life, fading with each passing year. Now, decades later, he found himself utterly captivated by the being before him, his heart swelling with love for the magnificent Kraken.

Being in Lucifer's presence had transformed Adam in ways he could have never imagined. His body had adapted to the depths of the ocean, growing delicate gills on the sides of his neck to breathe freely beneath the waves. His hands and feet had become webbed, enabling him to glide seamlessly through the water, a part of the aquatic world that Lucifer called home. Even his eyes had transformed, shifting to a shimmering slitted gold that caught the light like sunlit ripples on the surface. Every change was a testament to his deep bond with Lucifer. And probably because he had traces of his DNA inside him.

“Just thinking… you said you wanted to talk to me, right?” Adam inquired, his voice cutting through the murky depths as he turned to face Lucifer. The Kraken, usually so imposing and confident, suddenly faltered, his gaze dropping away as if he couldn't bear to meet Adam's eyes. The tension in the water hung thick like a heavy mist, signaling that whatever words were on the tip of Lucifer’s tongue were bound to be complex and laden with unspoken weight.

“My population is up again,” Lucifer finally said, his voice steady but devoid of the usual vibrancy. Adam tilted his head, intrigued yet confused, trying to decipher the meaning behind the cryptic announcement. “Our deal is complete. You no longer need to stay here any longer.” 

As those words settled in the space between them, a surge of confusion and disbelief coursed through Adam like a current. Did Lucifer actually mean it? The realization struck him with the force of a sudden tide, leaving him feeling disoriented and unsteady despite being submerged in water. Was he truly just going to dismiss Adam, letting him drift away from the bond they had formed? The thought churned his stomach, twisting it into a knot of nausea and despair.

“Unless you want something different. Jewels? Your own place? Whatever you desire, I’m willing to provide it,” Lucifer remarked, his tone far too casual and seemingly unaware of the storm of emotions raging within Adam. 

What did Adam truly want? The answer hit him like a bolt of lightning—he wanted to stay! He longed to be close to his Mate, reveling in that bond that felt so essential to his very being. But then a sudden realization washed over him: they were technically not fully mated yet. It was a crucial detail he had overlooked in the haze of their connection. 

When he had received his mating mark, he had been blissfully ignorant of the full implications of that sacred bond. The truth was clear now; the process would not be complete until he took that final, decisive step and claimed Lucifer as his own by biting back. 

As these thoughts spiraled in his mind, he glanced at Lucifer, who continued to speak, his demeanor carefree and his gaze diverted elsewhere, not yet meeting Adam’s desperate eyes. The weight of his unspoken feelings felt heavier with each passing moment, as uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his heart. Adam silently grappled with his needs and desires, torn between the instinct to connect and the reality of their incomplete union.

He didn't let Lucifer complete his sentence as he grabbed Lucifer's shoulders and bit his neck. The Kraken stilled as Adam easily broke through the skin. He made sure to clamp down hard, wanting his bite stick and Adam relaxed when he felt hands gently massage his back. "Adam?" Lucifer whimpered out. Adam let go, blood mixing in the water. "Mine. Mate. I want you. If you try to make me leave, I'll just hunt you down again. You don't get to leave me." Adam's form was trembling and that was when Lucifer saw Adam was on the verge of tears.

"My poor Adam." Lucifer said, "Of course I want you to stay." He smirked at Adam and brought him even closer. "Let me prove it to you." Adam's face turned red and he was brought deeper into the cave. It seemed they were going to add more children to their already huge family.

——-

I was going to save this till I added a little more. But with the fires and everyone sick, I’ll just make it another chapter. But letting anyone who’s interested know, that there will be more. This is more of a time skip. Like… a hundred years. The art is done by @sir-tater-of-the-tot!

pervs:

Next:

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

[beomglocks]

soob become human ; c.sb

pairing: android!soobin x police detective!y/n

plot: your job is fairly simple, find out the cause of the recent surges of deviancy in androids. the only problem is that you hate androids, but it’s ok because you have a newly appointed partner and- oh wait he’s an android. 

w/c: 6.3K (this took me longer than it should have)

warnings & other:  enemies(?) to lovers(?), enemies (?) to less hated enemies, based off detroit become human, lots of swearing, android!soobin, human!y/n, blood, dead people, a crime scene is described but not in too much detail, soobin is definetly not a deviant, y/n hates soobin and pretty much all androids, y/n is kinda an ass to soobin, semi slow burn, open ended

you were seething with rage though you somehow managed to contain it. you wanted to hold it in long enough to really explode when you walked into your boss's office. you tramp past the receptionist in the lobby and don't even smile at her. you never do since she's not even a human. you hate how she's programmed to sit idly with an eerie smile on her face and welcome guests.

"hey y/n!" you hear your friend, hueningkai, shout at you. you wonder how he can be so loud and full of energy after 5 hours of working at his desk but you keep marching on, not acknowledging his greeting.

you have your eyes set out on your boss's office and the fire in your eyes is set alight when you notice him sitting at his desk peacefully. thank god, for the see-through box offices cyberlife installed last year.

he notices your figure striding up angrily towards his office and you see him sigh. good, at least he knows what's he's in for! you march up the stairs with your head held high because you were really about to give him a piece of your mind right now.

you stop just at the edge of his desk and rummage through your crossbody bag for something. it takes you a while which is embarrassing since he just sits there looking at you expectantly. "ah," you pull out a crumpled up piece of paper, which you yourself crumbled up out of anger, and slam it harshly on his desk.

"excuse me but what the fuck is this?"

he glances down at the paper and back up at you with a bored expression. "that's a piece of paper y/n." you chuckle bitterly and place your hands on your hips. "i'm talking about the contents of the paper sir."

you watch him open up the paper gingerly and skim over the words printed. "oh yeah," he crumbles the paper again tossing it into the bin. he sighs heavily getting in his serious work position with his hands crossed in front of him. he's a big burly kind of guy so it always somewhat intimidates you when he does this.

"we're getting weekly reports of androids going haywire. everyday i've gotta deal with a new report. i'm not talking the usual malfunction and spilling coffee. this is homicides and assaults. just last night a woman was murdered in cold blood by her android. this isn't cyberlife's problem anymore, these are criminals now."

you stay quiet, taking in what he's saying. "regarding the contents of the paper, i want you to investigate them." you clench your fists and narrow your eyes at him. "why me?" you burst after a moment of letting your anger rise again. you realize you sound like a child whose just gotten told they have to dishes while their sibling goofs off but you don't care.

"i'm the least qualified person to handle these cases plus i've got other shit to worry about! i don't want to deal with those pieces of junk!"

the chief office stands up, eyeing you sternly. now you've done it. "y/n don't piss me off. you know you're the most qualified so don't start with that bullshit. i don't wanna hear any complaints out of you." he doesn't raise his voice and that kind of alarms you but you press on.

"no! you know that no one else in this goddamn precinct wants to deal with these androids so of course, you left me to pick up the dog shit!"

"watch your tone detective," he seethes. he sighs heavily trying to regain himself before he really bursts a vessel. he cozies back into his desk chair and rubs his temples. you, on the other hand, are breathing heavily and pacing back and forth. you can't believe he would put you on an android case of all things.

you were seriously being relieved of all other duties to investigate a bunch of ones and zeros. but that wasn't even the best part.

"i'm assigning you a partner to assist you in the investigation."

you stop in your tracks, eyes widening. "hell fucking no!" you rage. you march back up to his desk and lean over the edge. "chief i always ride solo. ever since i joined i've always been alone and have been doing just fine! i don't need help!"

"y/n i think i've had enough of your bitching and whining. i don't care that you're the best worker in this fucking precinct. if you don't like the circumstances you can hand in your badge right this instant. otherwise, shut your fucking mouth and get back to work," he says through gritted teeth.

you scoff in his face and as you walk out of his office you flip him off. "that's going on your track record detective!" he says matter of factly.

"shove it up yo-"

you sigh as you enter your office. "fuuuuuuuck," you groan. you look around and notice that there's a tiny replica of your desk on the other side of your office. you can only assume it's meant for your partner. the sudden urge to destroy it and throw everything across the room crosses your mind but you decide against it.

having a partner assigned to you was a jab at your pride. everyone knew you as the detective who never needed one, the lone wolf if you will. if anyone saw you being assisted they would immediately think that the position of "best officer" was up for grabs, when it wasn't.

you didn't wanna be that person but of course, you held that title over everyone's head.

you huff, throwing yourself onto your chair which causes it to spin around. you don't even know this supposed partner of yours. most likely for a good reason too. you can only imagine your reaction if the chief had presented your new partner right then and there. a firm knock on your door startles you, "come in," you mumble. you're really not in the mood to entertain any of your work friends so you hope this is quick.

you look at the figure standing idly by the frame of the door. he's tall with a three-piece suit on. he's oddly handsome with little to no flaws which is suspicious to you. his hair is dark with hints of blue peeking out and it's pushed back to show his forehead. the stark contrast of his dark hair and fair skin makes him look very pale and almost sick. he has some files in his hands and his face is stoic, almost emotionless but not stern. he looks boyish.

what you don't notice is the ring of light located on his temple since it blends in so well with his skin. "how many times do i have to tell people that complaints are sent next door to hueningkai, god i really need to get a sign or some shit," you groan rubbing your face in frustration. you lower your hands and the person is still there.

"hello, my name is choi soobin. i'm the android sent by cyberlife to assist you with your detective duties," he states monotonously as if he's reading from a script.

the gears in your head churn for a while but once the words process you groan once again and roll your eyes to the back of your head, "why am i not surprised that chief would fuck me over even more like this. of course my partner is a fucking andriod." soobin steps completely into your office shutting the door behind him. "are you y/n?" he asks politely.

"un-fucking-fortunately."

"nice to meet you!" he seemingly ignores your sarcastic comment and your wonder if he even knows what sarcasm is. "i hope we can be good partners. i have already received the files on our first case together, here they are," he places the files on your desk and you can only look up at him in disgust.

"well you're a well-trained dog arent you?" you mumble. "y/n with all due respect i am not a dog. im an android designed by cyberlife to merely assist with certain tasks and finish my mission. i'm one of the most advanced of my kind." you look at the tag on his suit: KR900. you sigh, nodding, "got it got it, now if you'll excuse me, it's time for my daily nap so scram."

you lean back in your chair and close your eyes. man, if soobin was gonna be your partner you'd have to extend nap time by at least 30 minutes. you wonder if you can get away with adding another hour to your naptime.

you hear someone clearing their throat beside you. you hope that if you keep your eyes closed they'll get the hint to leave you alone. after about a minute the person speaks up, "y/n we should probably start with the case as soon as possible." great, soobin.

you open your eyes to glare at him. "listen, soobin? was it? go fuck yourself ok?" you close your eyes again and fold your arms over your chest. god, soobin's already being a nuisance. you're not sure if whatever this is is going to work out.

he stays silent for a moment and you wonder if he can feel the feeling of frustration. you hope he can because he might be able to get a sense of how you felt towards this whole situation. you start to drift when you feel an odd warmth radiating on the side of your face.

"with all due respect detective. i've been assigned to this mission and i intend to carry it out and complete it to the very end. i'm not going to sit around and wait for you to simply 'feel like it'."

your eyes fly open and you stare at him bewilderedly. he's very close to your face and his expression is stony but of course, he still has that boyish look.

you stand up, frowning at him. "let's get one thing very straight, tin can." you shove your finger into his chest which strangely doesn't feel too much like hard metal. "i call the shots around here so i won't be taking orders from a walking computer. i don't give a damn if you're leagues smarter than me, piss me off one more time and i won't hesitate to deactivate you myself."

you step away from him and he doesn't seem affected. he simply brushes his suit off. you scoff, grabbing your keys from your desk. "by the way i already know where the crime scene is so try to catch up next time, puppy."

when you both arrive at the crime scene there's already a plethora of police with their hound dogs and the yellow barricade tape is being set up. this must've been a pretty brutal scene for there to be this many people dispatched to this location. you're not surprised that there's people here and there trying to get a sneak peek at what might've happened.

"y/n! y/n!" you hear someone frantically yelling out your name.

you look around and see yeonjun, another police detective who's not from your unit, running up to you. he engulfs you into a bear hug, letting his trenchcoat pick up from the wind. you smile for what feels like the first time today, "hey yeonjun." once upon a time you liked choi yeonjun, you still do in a way. he was always on top of his game which you admired and you two would always compete when it came to cases. he was unbelievably smart so he probably knew about your little crush on him. if he did, he never addressed it and still treated you like a close friend.

"it's weird seeing you at the scene so early, we're just finishing setting up the yellow tape," he smiles at you but you can see his confusion. you were known to be late to these scenes but somehow still did well and always cracked the case. you didn't like to be around all the other police and detectives when you were in the zone.

"chief assigned me a new partner who insisted i arrive accordingly," you roll your eyes playfully to mask the annoyance. you don't bother to introduce soobin, who had been standing behind you silently this whole time, because he introduces himself. "hello, my name is choi soobin. i'm the android sent by cyberlife to assist y/n with their detective duties," he says monotonously.

yeonjun stares at soobin with an impressed look, "woah, chief got you a robot? he must love you" he jokes. "love me? this is a shit way of showing it," you mumble.

"y/n ever the comedian," yeonjun laughs deeply. you smile shyly at him. "i guess..anyways what's the scene looking like?" yeonjun leans back on the barricade looking back at the house you have yet to enter.

"looks like another case of deviancy to me," he sucks his teeth in thought. "man these androids are really going haywire these days, killing their owners, assaulting them, or just simply running off. seems like some kind of uprising? the machines seem to be rebelling," he glances at soobin who is already looking at him.

yeonjun chuckles lowly and leans down towards your ear subtly. "be careful ok?" he leans back up and stretches his arms. "trust me i know," you mutter. you both smile at each other and he winks at you. "well i'm off to do my own sleuthing! let me know if you find anything, you always do after all."

you watch him jog off and sigh to yourself. you turn to soobin, "right, let's get on with it." before he can take another step forward you stop him in his tracks. "and don't get in my way." soobin nods but stays silent. "i'm gonna need a verbal answer," you really don't care if he answers you or not you just want to annoy him. "i will do what i need to, to complete my mission," he looks at you with a weird glint in his eye and you kinda hate him even more now.

you roll your eyes and walk through the door of the house you're meant to be investigating. the smell of booze and musk smacks you in the face and you have to physically hold back the bile rising up your throat. "

"man whoever lived here was a pig!" you gag. you look back at soobin who has a neutral but curious face. "right you can't actually smell things," you mumble. you grab the collar of your jacket and cover the bottom half of your face with it.

as you walk deeper into the house you start to really see what went down. glass covers pretty much the entirety of the floor from a window near the tv. the tv is busted and there's writings on the wall. you look around the living room and that's actually when you discover the body.

it seems to have been there for a couple of days now since there's maggots hovering over it. the man's face is beaten badly and blood runs down it onto his tattered shirt. he's slumped over and there's blood on the wall that states 'we are alive'.

"jesus christ," you mumble to no one in particular. you watch soobin hunch over the body and dip his finger into the blood on the wall near it. he's about to bring it near his mouth but you stop him. "god what the fuck are you doing!" you think the bile you were holding back is really about to come out and you're scared you'll ruin the crime scene.

he looks back at you with an unreadable expression. "im analyzing the blood." he turns his back to you again takes a lap of the blood. "you're fucking gross," you chastise.

"the blood is from the victim," he finalizes. "damn his android must've really wanted to make a statement here. 'we are alive'? what do you think that means?" you ask him.

soobin stands up straight again, looking around the flat, "deviancy of course. judging by the looks of it, this wasn't a very habitable place. the android must've gotten fed up and rebelled against its owner." he thinks to himself. "this shouldn't be happening, it must be some kind of virus because androids were only meant to serve, they shouldn't have to capability to harm much less kill."

you sigh, already hating where this case and the mission overall is going. "let's just look around for clues. i doubt the android could've gotten far, it must feel guilty or something."

soobin shakes his head, "androids don't feel y/n." you raise your brow at his statement, "one does not simply kill another being without feeling. an emotion or feeling of some sort is triggered which causes someone to act out in this way."

you walk away to the kitchen to look for clues there but soobin just stands there watching you. he frowns but joins you minutes later.

after about a half hour of looking for any clues, you've managed to gain a lot of evidence with soobin's help. there had been a struggle in the kitchen which led to the living room where the place of death was determined. soobin described the altercation as very brutal for both parties.

"so where's the android?" you ask after his explanation. "it's near," he mumbles. he surveys the room once again and spots something. you watch him do the same procedure he had done with the victim's blood. "there's nothing there," you say skeptically.

"it's android blood, or blue blood as you humans call it. not visible to the human eye but any android can spot it from a mile away."

when he's done he looks around once again and follows a sort of trail. he stops near the attic door and sighs. he pulls it open with caution and you can only wonder what he's up to.

he peeks in then hoists himself up into it. "wha-" "stay here," he demands. "hey what did i sa-"

before you can scold him he's already in the attic and slammed the door in your face. "didn't know androids had a prick feature," you mutter.

after 5 minutes you start to hear noises of struggling and things falling over. "soobin?" you shout. "what's going on up there?" you don't actually care if he's ok or not but one scratch on him and you'll be paying the damages.

he doesn't answer, instead, the struggling comes to a halt. you jump as he slams open the attic door. you give him a once over and it doesn't look like he has any scratches on him so you sigh to yourself gratefully. looking down you see an android wriggling in handcuffs, you assume it's the murderer. "i got him," soobin huffs.

"y/n? you in h- woah," yeonjun breathes out. he looks over the both of you then at the android on the ground near soobin. "damn." you nod, agreeing with his one-word statement. soobin folds his arms looking down at the android. the android is rightfully glaring back up at him. "he was hiding up there, probably thought no one would find him. well, no human would've at least."

"we should take it back to the station for questioning. the more info we get out of it, the closer we are to figuring out the cause of this 'deviancy'," yeonjun concludes. you nod, turning to soobin, "good job puppy." he makes a face but accepts your praise either way.

after finalizing your first deviant case, you decided to ask yeonjun out for burgers two days later as a celebratory measure. he had told you he was going to be busy filing some other cases so you opted for going alone. alone is not entirely true since soobin was required to be around you at pretty much all times.

"stay in the car," you ordered. "not happening. im required to assist you at all times," he states matter of factly. you lean your head on the steering wheel. "god you are so up my ass it's annoying."

"listen if i say do something you do it. you're an android so you follow my orders got that?" you narrow your eyes at him as if to challenge him. he simply looks back at you with that boyish curious look and says nothing.

you hate how he looks like a puppy who knows you're hiding a treat behind your back.

you sigh, getting out of the already parked car. you slam the door roughly in what you hope to be soobin's face to make a point but you hear a door close right after yours. you turn around to see soobin standing outside of the passenger's side where he was seated.

"oh fuck off!" you shout exasperatedly.

you stomp over to the burger cart and shove past someone who's already there. "hey watch it!" they shout. "shut up im a cop," you bite back. you don't even bother turning around to the person because you could care less but their voice comes back. "y/n?"

you perk up at your name and turn around, "oh shit frankie!" your smile grows and you hold your hand out for a handshake but frankie goes in for an uncomfortable hug that you weren't expecting. you laugh nervously as he hugs you for longer than intended. he reeks of red dust, a newly manufactured drug in town. the only recognize it is because, well, you've tried it.

"hahah ooook franks," you try to wriggle from his tight hold on you but he doesn't budge. "i slipped a little something for you sweet cheeks," he murmurs into your ear. you shiver from the sudden close proximity but nod nonetheless.

"is there a problem here?" soobin states. he easily towers over frankie since taking drugs for a long time has ruined frankie's growth spurt. he's by no means short however soobin is winning in height by a long shot.

frankie chuckles lowly, "we're fine robocop." he rolls his eyes at soobin and turns back to you, "so anyw-"

"y/n we should be on our way," soobin narrows his eyes at you and you don't take it as a question. you're not scared of soobin however he's pretty much unmatched when it comes down to it.

"right," you say slowly. you glance between frankie and soobin and they both seem to be in a bit of a staring contest. "come on puppy," you nudge him.

"have a nice day," soobin says firmly. "whatever, damn androids," you hear frankie mumble. you sigh as you both reach a stray table near the truck. you open the wrapper, uninterested in everything else at the moment until soobin clears his throat.

"drugs?"

"what about them?" you mumble through a mouthful of burger. "you just got drugs from that guy," soobin leans on the table staring at you directly in the eye. you sigh dramatically, throwing your hamburger back into the wrapper. "leave me alone ok? if you're gonna lecture me i can assure you, i don't want it."

you pick your burger up again hoping that soobin will just shut the fuck up for the rest of the day. he really has a way of putting you in a sour mood. you wonder for a moment how long you'll have to be working with him. if you can just figure out the cause of deviancy then this little arrangement will be over before you know it.

from that point on, soobin simply watches you eat. it's a bit uncomfortable, to say the least, but at least he's silent. you want to question him as to why he's watching you so intently but you also don't feel like chatting with him. "did you ever expect to be living among androids y/n?" soobin speaks up after a while. you smirk at his question, "you're living among us, ok? and no, i never saw it coming." you feel bitter about his question.

of course, you never expected it. you never thought you'd see the day where an android is running the hotdog stand down the street. you never expected a robot to be doing your job. "you fucking androids are a curse," you mumble. soobin says nothing at that.

the ringing of your phone cuts through your little moment. you sigh, rummaging through your pocket for it. groaning, you reluctantly answer the call. "what's up boss."

after a couple minutes of briefing, you hang up. soobin looks at you expectantly while you throw out your trash. "we got another one, pretty close to where we are. no one else is on duty near us so we'll be on our own for this one."

you brush past him, walking back to the car, "think you can handle it puppy?" you don't expect him to answer but you're surprised when he retorts with his own witty remark.

"i'm practically designed too."

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head, "alright alright let's go."

once you arrive at the apartment complex where the deviant is supposedly located, you stop soobin right at the door. you stare up at him with a stern look in your eye, "remember what i said, no getting in my way and no telling me what to do. remember that i'm also your superior."

a part of you feels like you don't necessarily have to tell him these things since he probably stored that information from the first case. however, you want to feel power over him. you don't care if soobin is an android, you'd be damned if he felt like he was superior to you just because you were a human and he was a robot.

"i will do what is needed for me to complete my mission," he states. you roll your eyes at the answer he opts for but nonetheless continue onward. "we gotta be careful here, we don't actually know if the deviant is armed."

"you got sent any info on the guy?" you ask. soobin sighs, "the only thing we know about him is that he's a deviant. the people living on the floor below claimed they were hearing strange noises but supposedly no one has lived here for years."

you chuckle to yourself, "yeah it sure looks like it." you look around, taking in the beat-up state of the hallway. it's dimly lit and the walls are tattered and torn. there are boarded-up doors and the floor almost looked like it would give in with anymore added weight. yeah, there definitely hadn't been anyone inhabiting this floor in a while.

you lean on the door frame as you watch soobin knock on the door as a normal would but no one answers. "is anyone in there?" he shouts. you both wait for a moment but again no one answers. you sigh, shaking your head. "move."

soobin steps out of your way hastily and moves to stand behind you. you swiftly take your gun from it's holster on your hip and shoot the door handle. the handle flies off and just like that the door creeks open. you'll admit there might've been a more suave way of doing it that didn't involve much noise, however you wanted to get this over with.

you motion for soobin to trail after you into the apartment. you both slowly inch into the flat and you peek your head in to check if anyone is inside. when you confirm there's no one in the apartment you both walk in cautiously. the place is completely torn apart. there are bird feathers all over the place and the walls have odd writings on them. you sigh walking up to one of the walls, "we are alive."

soobin shakes his head but says nothing. "let's check the other rooms in this place," you propose. you both split up to look for clues about the deviant which gives you time to think.

soobin goes to snoop around in the closet while you head to the bathroom of the apartment. the sink is riddled with bird feathers and bird shit. you hold your breath as you look around the small room. the place definitely hasn't been kept up by anyone in a long time. "ra9?" you mumble. you lean closer to the wall to inspect the odd writing. it's not just written once or twice, it's scattered all over the wall. "what the fuck does that even mean."

before you can even begin to infer, soobin walks into the bathroom. "i think i found something." you sigh looking up at him, "what is it."

he leads you back into the living room and points to a birdcage on the floor. "this must be what caused that noise that the people on the other floor sent complaints about." he paces around the room for a moment. "i should be able to reconstruct what may have happened, that way we can know where the deviant went."

you watch silently as he walks back to the birdcage. he stays still for a moment then proceeds to look around the room in all directions. "see anything?" you ask.

he doesn't answer, much like last time he simply stands up and walks towards an opening in the roof. soobin slowly reaches his hand up to it but someone jumps out at him.

soobin is effectively knocked to the ground and you stand there shocked. you were really not expecting anyone to be up there. you shout in alarm and the deviant is alerted instantly. before you can reach your gun, the deviant haphazardly pulls a gun of its own from is pocket.

it's clearly not skilled in holding a gun since androids aren't allowed to bear arms. you can tell it's not sure where to shoot and it's scared. you can feel the cold metal of your gun graze your fingers but you stay still as you hear a gunshot pierce the air.

your eyes widen as they follow the deviant run out of the apartment. "SOOBIN GO," you shout. you're not sure why you're telling him to chase after it when you can do it yourself but you feel like you can't move. you suddenly feel yourself collapse on the ground, letting out a strangled yell. "FUCK!"

"Y/N?" you hear soobin shout. for some reason everything is hazy and all you're hearing is white noise. you think you yell at soobin to chase after the deviant again but even in your hazy state, you can't quite tell. after a couple more seconds of struggling to comprehend what's going on, you finally pass out.

you shift around, looking for a comfortable position on the couch. you're not sure why you're on a couch but you're not complaining. it feels like forever since you've felt like you've had a chance to rest for a moment. you're starting to really get sick and tired of androids. before all of this, all you did was either sit on your ass all day or go around helping the elderly or bust your local neighborhood scum. you seriously couldn't believe how much your life could change in just the span of a couple of days.

speaking of change, soobin was going to have to go. he's a pretty capable partner however, you both clashed too much. granted you haven't given him much of a chance. you just hated the concept of having a partner, much less an android partner.

you suddenly feel something cold press onto your leg. you hiss out in pain but when you try to move your leg the pain gets worse. "you shouldn't move," you hear a voice say. you furrow your brows because you're sure you live alone.

you peel your eyes open and see what looks to be soobin standing over you. "soobin?" after the name registers in your head your eyes widen and you try to sit up but the pain in your leg keeps you in place, "what the fuck are you doing in my house?"

soobin calmly takes a seat on the seat opposite from you. you study his body language and face. if you didn't know any better you say he seems a bit distressed. you want to laugh at yourself for thinking that because there's no way an android can know what distress feels like. he seriously looks like he's racking his brain to figure out what to say first.

"you got shot," he opts for. your mouth falls open, looking down at your leg. almost as if on cue, you start to feel immense pain shoot through your body. "fuck fuck fuck!" you yell. soobin rushes up to press the ice pack down on the bandaged wound.

"don't fucking touch me!" you yell at him. he flinches back but you don't notice because you're too busy trying to dissolve the pain. you breathe in and out. you wouldn't say you've never gotten shot before but no bullet has ever successfully hit you. you've only been grazed here and there but it was rare since no one is allowed to really carry guns besides cops.

after doing your breathing exercise for a couple of minutes, you finally bite back the pain. "what happened to the android?" you grit out. you hope getting shot was worth it, you hope the bastard that shot you in rusting in his cell. soobin sighs, "we lost it. it's completely my fault. i should've chased after it."

"you didn't chase after it?" you're not sure if you sound surprised or angry but soobin looks up at you like a scolded puppy. the alarms in your brain are blaring right now. why did soobin ignore the mission? he was supposedly always supposed to complete his mission no matter what. surely he didn't ignore the mission simply because you collapsed from a leg shot. you think about the subtle warning yeonjun gave you back when you had your first deviant case.

"seems like some kind of uprising? the machines seem to be rebelling."

soobin isn't- he's not a deviant is he? you can't really remember if he's been defective this whole time or if he's the best actor you ever met. you look up at him suspiciously and he shifts his gaze subtly when you make eye contact.

"it's been 4 days since your injury. yeonjun came by a couple of times to check up on you," you see his fists tighten at that. something may have happened between them while you were out. you know yeonjun can be a bit overprotective over you at times, even when he knew the job was dangerous.

"the chief says its best to lay low for a couple of days until you get better so that's what we're doing," he continues. you stay quiet. you're not exactly sure what to say. you don't know if calling him out will anger him or something.

you both stay quiet for so long that you start to think soobin may have gone into hibernation mode or something but when you look up at him he's staring directly at you. you sigh, "what is it this time puppy."

he stares at you for a little while longer before answering, "why don't you like androids?" you should've known this question would come up but damn why'd he have to ask it right now. why do you hate androids? one just shot at you a couple of days ago and left you unable to work.

"it's' because you're all nuisances," you mumble. he looks down at his hands and you have to remind yourself that if you're right, he somehow has feelings now.

you groan, "you all are supposed to be perfect! better versions of us humans! i guess you just fail when we put too much trust in you." you sigh, you don't expect soobin to understand since you're being too vague.

he sits, waiting patiently for you to continue. "someone close to me passed away a long time ago. i don't really expect you to understand what grief is," you chuckle bitterly. you look around the room in silence. you don't really want to cry right now so you take a deep breath.

"the doctor was out, probably fucking around i don't know. they had an android do the job. they didn't make it because the android failed to do it's task." you shake your head. "yeonjun was there for me at the time, which im grateful for. i probably would've singlehandedly destroyed all androids myself if he wasn't there."

soobin looks at you with that same curious boyish look and it makes you want to hit him. he's so annoying even when he's not doing anything. "y/n im sorry," he says.

"yeah you should be. the deviant got away because of you," you mumble. you both sit in silence again until you decide to speak up again. something in you wants to thank him for not leaving you behind but you also don't want to break character.

this is too new to you. you've never really had a partner, only ever going out into the field with yeonjun. even then, whenever either of you got hurt it was never as awkward as this. you sigh, "at least you didn't leave me behind." is the best you can come up with.

soobin looks up at you again with a hopeful look in his eyes and it makes you hate how alive he looks. if he was really a deviant you'd have to tread lightly with him. you're not sure if he's plotting against you or what his goal is but you've gotta start being more careful around him.

"y/n i look forward to working with you more," he says lightly.

for now though, for now, this will have to do.

[everamazingfe]

All Work and No Sleep Makes Jeremy A Shaky Boy

Fic Summary: Jeremy had a fear of taking time off due to an awful past experience, but when he got too sick to help out, he knew that he had to. Luckily, his crew is there to help take care of him. Prompts: “You’re trembling.” “ I can take care of myself just fine.” “It’s three in the morning.” 

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Words in this chapter: 1081 Pairings: OT5, Jeremy/Everyone Warnings for this chapter: None

Notes: A rewrite of an old fic that was previously a prompt request. I know there’s way more members of the crew now, but I’m just so soft for OT5, and I’ve never really written it before so this was nice. 

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When Jeremy overworked himself, he always did his best to hide it. At the first job he’d ever had, he'd worked himself sick and took a day off. He was fired the next day not even ten minutes after walking through the door. That was the last time he ever took a sick day. He'd only been eighteen, and the fear of getting fired followed him into every job he had after that shitty grocery store gig. 

A little over a decade later, Jeremy was working a job he liked. In fact, he might even say that he loved it. But still, he had never taken a sick day, or a vacation, or even time to rest. He'd done heists running fevers and sporting broken bones, he’d stayed up for nearly twenty four hours doing prep work and scouting sites. Sure, there was no rest for the wicked, but surely even the devil himself took a day off. Not Jeremy, though. He was scared of losing his job again. Money was hard to come by for someone like him without one, and these people... He loved and cared for them so much, he didn’t want to let them down. Working hard was how he proved that love, but everyone had a breaking point.

It came after nearly 48 hours of no sleep, barely any food, and some dehydration as he stumbled out of his room. He’d been so focused on the job ahead that he’d forgotten to take care of himself. Normally he was able to at least do the bare minimum, but it had just slipped his mind. But even then, all that wasn't what was making him so shaky. "I... I can't do the job today." He took a pause as he tried to compose himself, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath and squeezing his eyes shut. "I don’t wanna let you guys down and I know you need me, but I can’t do it. I’m sorry."

There was a beat of silence, then: "What, you think you can just take a day off?!" Geoff cried, but he hadn’t turned around just yet. 

Oh boy, here it comes, Jeremy thought to himself as he braced for the dismissal he was certain he was going to receive. 

“Jeremy, we're criminals. You can't just 'take a day off' or whatever bullshit you’re trying to pul-...” Geoff turned around as he spoke, cutting himself off with his face softening from the ‘stern boss’ expression to one of pure concern the moment he laid eyes on Jeremy. “Oh, shit, Jer, you're trembling." He spoke as he moved, going over to the poor lad and feeling his forehead. "You're running a hell of a fever, too." How had he allowed Jeremy to get so sick? How had he not noticed? He was supposed to look out for his crew, and yet it was apparent he’d failed at that. 

"I'm fine, Geoff. I swear, I'm fine, I just need some rest. I'm sorry." His voice was shaking as much as his body was, and he was only able to relax when Geoff sternly told him to get some rest instead of telling him to pack his things and go.

Little did he know that plans for the day were halted, because Geoff could just tell that when he said he was fine that it was bullshit. Jack was now helping him make soup, and the rest of the lads were gathering up pillows and preparing to move a TV into Jeremy's room so they could have a movie marathon. Fortunately, he slept through the rather noisy installation.  

Bleary-eyed, Jeremy eventually woke up to the opening scene of Tangled and the two lads wrapping him up in blankets. "Wha-?" he asked, still too groggy to form actual thoughts. 

"The lads are here to help you relax!" Gavin cheered as he nestled himself into bed next to Jeremy, kissing his cheek before he tucked his face against his neck. Gavin’s breath was warm against his skin, and focusing on his rhythmic breathing worked like a charm to get him to relax. 

Michael tucked himself in on the other side of Jeremy, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him so that he was laying on his chest. "It's a movie marathon. Doctor's orders," he said, eyes fixed on the screen as Gavin draped an arm over his two boys.

He let himself soak up the affection for a few moments, before he remembered that there was a job today that they really needed to start getting ready for. They couldn’t be wasting their time hanging out in bed with him. "Guys, that's sweet," he started to say as he shifted to sit up, to get away from the boys, but they held him firmly in place. "But I can take care of myself just fine." 

Michael hummed skeptically, squirming a little to free his arm from between them and Gavin so he could feel Jeremy's forehead. His fever was still pretty bad even after his nap, not to mention how sweaty he was because of it. "Hmm... Nope, don’t think you can. You definitely need a doctor. Or four of them, specifically. Just don't question their medical licenses, got it?"

Gavin snickered and lifted his head to look at Jeremy, frowning a little bit when he didn't lay back down right away and kept trying to break free. He leaned in to kiss his cheek, cooing softly and taking hold of his shoulder to urge him to lay back down. "Relax, Jer," he murmured, "let us help you." The lad whined, but he realized there was no room for argument as Jack and Geoff quietly burst through the door and joined the cuddle pile, bowls of soup in hand for everyone, so he laid back down against Michael. 

Five bowls of soup and two movies later, Jeremy was dead asleep once again, though he wasn’t any less shaky. Regardless, he was happy to feel so loved and cared for, even when he'd been so scared. It made him feel so stupid now, though later Geoff would tell him his fears were justified, that what had happened to him was terrible, and he shouldn’t blame himself for not reaching out sooner. They were all just happy that he had at all. 

It was three in the morning when Jeremy's fever finally broke, and everyone just cuddled in closer, relieved that he was starting to feel better again. 

[puckinghell]

Let It Snow | William Nylander

Summary Request:

alternatively, our flights get cancel and we’re two strangers who rent the last available car together (it might be a little dangerous but we’re living on the edge)

and

we always carpool home for the holidays from college but a storm hit and now we’re taking the last room at the local b&b 

and

we don’t know each other that well but i found out that you’ve never been sledding skating and feel like it’s my personal mission to change that

Words: 10k (I’m SORRY) Note: So, a few things: I wrote most of this when I was either drunk or sick, so excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes. Second of all, you guys wanted one long thing instead of parts, so here’s 10k of word vomit. Third of all, this is cliche central, and I’m not even sorry. And lastly, I know Will’s family doesn’t live in Calgary anymore but I very well couldn’t have them drive to Sweden.

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“I hate snow.”

It’s meant to be mumbled under your breath, for nobody to hear but you; you didn’t even really mean to say it out loud, but it kinda slipped.

You really hate snow.

The guy that’s sitting opposite you looks up. So far, he’s been engulfed in his phone, but now there’s an interested look on his face as he takes you in.

“Why?” he asks.

As if that’s a totally normal thing to ask a complete stranger in the middle or a crowded airport.

You shoot him a dirty look, take a sip of your coffee before answering him, your voice deadpan. “Have you looked around you?”

The guy looks, as if he actually hadn’t noticed before that the airport around him has been getting busier and busier, the people there more annoyed and miserable looking by the second.

“Oh,” he says.

Yeah, oh.

You huff and return your attention to the announcement board again, hoping the message is going to magically change.

It doesn’t. Flight delayed, it says.

“Are you going to Calgary too?” the guy asks.

Now it’s not really his fault: he hasn’t personally caused a huge snow storm to hit Toronto and he’s probably just trying to be nice, but you’re already in a bad mood.

So you snap: “No, I’m just sitting here for shits and giggles.”

“Never mind,” the guy mutters, and his eyes fix on his phone again.

Great, now you feel like shit about that.

However, the universe needs to give you a break. This has literally been the worst week of your life and it’s only Thursday: the only thing that has pulled you through so far is knowing you’re going to see your dad, and now it’s looking like that might be going up in flames.

“Excuse me, may I please have your attention,” a voice sounds over the speaker at your gate, and you perk up in your seat. “We regret to inform you that, due to the upcoming snow storm, all air traffic in this area has been cancelled until further notice. Your flight will not depart today. For more information, you may contact the information desk.”

“Fuck.”

The guy opposite you raises an eyebrow. “If you don’t want people to start a conversation with you, you might want to stop talking to yourself.”

He stands up leisurely, as if the cancelled flight is no bother to him at all, and grabs his suitcase. He points to the board, where it now says Flight cancelled instead of Flight delayed – fucking fantastic – and motions at it, as if to say “what can you do”.

“How are you so chill about this?” It’s more that you’re wondering out loud than actually wanting an answer, but of course the guy grabs the opportunity.

“Well, it’s still four days to Christmas, and Calgary isn’t on another continent. It sucks that there won’t be any flights anytime soon, but you can’t change the weather.” He smiles. “I actually love snow, personally. And a little snow has never stopped me before. So I’m gonna rent a car and drive to Calgary.”

You stare at him. “Drive? To Calgary? That’s insane.”

“I mean, not as insane as spending Christmas away from my family,” the guy reasons, and….

He might have a point. You could stay here, and be miserable alone, or you could drive to Calgary and spend time with your dad like you planned. You could be enjoyed your dad’s pancakes, drinking hot chocolate by the fire place watching Elf, within a mere 40 hours, if you put the gas pedal down.

It’s, objectively, insane.

“I’m gonna rent a car too.”

“Great,” the guy says, jovially. “We can walk together then!”

And that was not really your plan, but to be fair, you don’t really know where you’re supposed to go to rent a car and this guy is walking as if he does this every day, so you dutifully follow him.

You take this time to look him over; he looks funny, in sweatpants with white sneakers – in the snow! - and a hoodie with a coat. He has a beanie on and there’s a few blond streaks of hair escaping from under it. He’s wearing thick black framed glasses. The suitcase he has with him has the Gucci logo on it, and you find yourself wondering if it’s real.

The guy is dressed like he’s either super rich but doesn’t care, or is slightly blind and got a 13 year old high school boy to pick out his clothing at a weird second hand shop.

“What’s your name?” the guy asks, and you frown.

“Why do you care? I wasn’t aware we were going to become best friends in the time it takes to walk to the rental car booth.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, remaining completely unbothered as if you didn’t just snap at him. “I’m Will.” He glances over at you, seemingly amused. “It’s just a cancelled plane, you know. Not the end of the world.”

“It’s not just about the plane.” You almost tell him about the week you’ve had, but you decide it’s not worth the trouble. After all, you’re just going to rent a car and then you’re going your separate ways, and you’ll never see him again.

That’s the plan, at least. But it wouldn’t be this time in your life if your plan didn’t get ruined.

“I’m sorry, miss, that was the last car we have available,” the woman behind the computer says, right after she’s handed Will some keys. “Everyone is trying to get outta here by car, now that the planes aren’t going.”

You nearly, nearly, start to cry.

“What do you mean the last car? Surely you have a car somewhere,” you beg. “Any car. A bike. I don’t care. I have to get to Calgary for Christmas, you don’t understand…”

“I understand,” the lady interrupts, the friendly facade sliding off her face. “Unfortunately, I cannot help you. Have a good day.”

Have a good day?

“Look, lady…”

You’re about to yell at her some more when you feel someone tap your shoulder. Of course, it’s Will, beaming down at you with the keys to your last option in his hand.

“Yelling at her won’t work, you know. It’s not gonna make you feel better or stop you from being in a mood.”

Something inside you snaps.

“In a mood? You wanna know why I’m in such a mood, Will? I’m in a mood because this Monday, I got told my residency at the hospital I work at might not be available to me next year, because they’re cutting personnel at the department. On Tuesday, I ran my legs out of my body for 15 hours before they told me that I shouldn’t come back after Christmas. On Wednesday, my boyfriend of almost a year broke up with me because he’s looking for different things in life, whatever the fuck that means. And the only, only thing I was looking forward to was seeing my dad again, and now this stupid snow has ruined that for me as well. So excuse my mood, but I will yell at whoever I want to!”

Will blinks at you, then raises an eyebrow. “Feel better?”

Slowly, you exhale through your nose. You do, actually, feel better, and Will seems to know that because he’s grinning.

“If you’re done yelling, I was gonna ask you…” he trails, “do you want a lift?”

 ---

 Arguably, this is a bad idea. You don’t even know this guy. He could be literally anyone.

“You could be a serial killer,” you tell him, putting on your seatbelt and sinking into the passenger’s seat. “You could drive me out of the city, murder me, dismember my corpse and leave me in the woods.”

“Hmm,” Will hums, as he starts the car. “I could, but that would massively delay my arrival time.”

You kick up your feet on the dash and play with the radio; the only songs you’re getting are Christmas songs, and that’s just not the right mood. Of course, as soon as you settle on some station that’s not playing Christmas music, Will frowns.

“Do you hate Christmas? Cause if you’re the Grinch, I’m gonna have to kick you out now.”

You look out the window; Toronto traffic is bad as always and you’re standing still barely out of the airport.

“I’m not the Grinch. I just don’t love Christmas.”

“How?” Will exclaims. “Christmas is the best holiday of the year!”

“I prefer Halloween,” you say, and Will rolls his eyes.

“And I’m the serial killer.”

“Christmas is overrated. I don’t care for trees in my house, creating a mess, Christmas movies are cheesy, Christmas songs are objectively bad and everyone is just stressed around Christmas time, trying to find gifts and decorate and wear stupid sweaters and go to parties with people they don’t like.”

You don’t tell him that you also don’t like Christmas because when your mom left, she said she would send you a Christmas gift.

As if that made it okay for a mother to leave her 12 year old daughter behind.

“Grinch,” Will mutters under his breath. You reach out and smack his arm, and he yelps in surprise. “Hey, don’t hit the driver, we could crash!”

“We’re literally standing still.”

“I could accidentally press the gas!”

“Then you’d be an idiot!”

You sigh and drop your head against the headrest, staring out of the window at all the headlights surrounding you.

It’s gonna be a long trip.

--

For the first few hours of the drive, it turns out the not be the worst. First, you and Will talk about your families a little: he’s got four siblings and his parents are still “very grossly in love” (his words) and you tell him that you’ve got just your dad and grandma left.

You don’t tell him what happened with your mom and he doesn’t ask, which is probably good judgement from his side.

Most of the time, however, you nap and Will drives or you drive and Will sleeps; you both decided that you want to get to Calgary as fast as you can, and not stopping is the way to do that.

It feels like it’s been days, but in reality you’ve only been driving for about 8 hours when Will stretches beside you and yawns.

“We should stop for gas,” he says, “and get me at least two liters of coffee to inject into my veins.”

“Probably a bad idea,” you deadpan. “That volume of liquid into your system would probably kill you instantly, and if it didn’t, the caffeine would give you a heart attack. Also, if you have to pee in an hour I’ll kill you.”

Will grins. “No good outcome possible for me, then, huh?” He points out the window. “Gas station.”

While you’re driving down the lane, he turns to look at you.

“You’re a nurse,” he says, and you frown.

“Yeah, I told you that.”

“I know, but like, you’re an actual nurse. I didn’t think about what that meant. But that’s really cool.”

You sigh. “Well, yeah, but if I don’t find another residency I’m gonna be half a nurse. And that won’t pay the bills.”

“You’ll find one,” Will says, easily enough, as if it’s a mere fact, and for the first time since you got the news, you feel some of the anxiety in your stomach settle.

It’s probably strange, that the fact that this guy, who you have only spent one day with, can tell you it’s gonna be fine and you believe it.

Maybe it’s because he seems truly genuine in his conviction. Maybe it’s because you’re just that desperate.

“Coffee?” Will asks, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts.

“I’ll go get it, you fill the tank,” you say, because you really want to stretch your legs. You spend your time wandering the little shop, getting two large coffees and also a few snacks for the road – what else is there to do in a car but eat and nap – and when you finally reemerge, Will is talking to someone next to the car.

“So awesome to meet you, dude, huge fan,” the man says. You watch as Will scribbles something on a napkin with a pen.

“Anytime. Sorry I don’t have paper.” Will smiles at the man politely as he hands him the napkin.

“No problem!” The man seems very excited about the napkin, and as he walks back to his car, he looks at Will again over his shoulder and waves. Will waves back, then turns to you and makes grabby hands for the coffee.

“Gimme!”

“What was that?” you frown, holding the coffee out of his reach. “Who was that?”

“A guy,” Will deadpans, “and a napkin. Coffee, please?”

You don’t hand it to him but he somehow manages to snatch it out of your hands; he’s faster than you’d think he’d be, and he’s back in the car before you can ask again.

Luckily, he’s stuck with you in this car for a while.

“That wasn’t just a guy,” you say, stubbornly. “He was really excited to see you. Does he know you?”

“I don’t know him,” Will answers, and that’s about the best deflecting you’ve ever heard.

“Not what I asked.”

Will sighs. “Fine,” he grumbles. “Do you watch hockey?”

“Hockey?” you repeat dumbfoundedly. “Like, where people skate after a piece of rubber? No, why?”

“But you know hockey is a pretty big deal in the city, yeah?”

You don’t know why Will is pressing the issue; you’re more interested to find out who the man is, but Will seems very intent on this line of conversation, so you decide to let him get away with it for now.

“Yeah, my boyf… ex boyfriend is a big Maple Leafs fan.”

Will snorts, but before you can ask what he means by that, he points to your phone, that’s laying in your lap.

“Google Maple Leafs number 88.”

“Why, is he hot?” you tease, but you do as he says.

William Nylander, your screen tells you, and beside it is a picture of Will.

“Kinda,” Will says blankly.

You look at Will, and then at your screen. Then back at Will. “That’s you,” you bring out, and Will chuckles.

“Well, yes. Does that explain enough to you?”

And it does. You might not watch hockey – you don’t really watch sports anyway – but you know from your ex how big a deal it is to some people, and you can imagine what it must be like to be a Leafs player living in Toronto.

You also remember your ex screaming at the television screen.

“Rough season so far, huh?” you say. “That why you wanna go to Calgary so badly?”

Will smiles, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “Yeah, kinda. I mean, new coach, new opportunity, I’m excited, it’s just…” He pauses, seems to ponder his answer. It doesn’t sound like a rehearsed media answer, when he finally speaks. “I really need that new start, but I need a little break to empty my mind a bit, first. Put it into perspective, I guess. My dad is really good at helping with that, and so is my brother. Alex plays in the NHL too, and my dad used to. It’s… They know what it’s like, but they’re not on my team, so they offer more of an outside view.”

“You can tell me?” you offer. “I don’t know shit about hockey, so I’ve got an outside view.”

Will is laughing, then, and his eyes are twinkling and the car feels strangely small, suddenly.

“What do you do when you suck at your job for a while, and everyone loses their faith in you, and then you get better but nobody believes in you anymore?”

For the heaviness of the question, his tone is light, and he’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in beat with the music, as if he asked about your holiday plans.

You think of your mom.

“When I was little, I used to patch up my dolls with plasters and tell my mom I wanted to be a nurse. She said I couldn’t because I fainted at the sight of blood.” You shrug. “You just have to show them, I guess.”

Will nods slowly, then breaks into a smile. “Did you really faint at the sight of blood?”

“Shut up,” you chide, and the mood is lifted. It’s getting dark outside and you know you’ll have to start napping soon if you wanna take over driving in two hours, but for now you’re perfectly happy listening to Will’s chatter and the soft rumble of the engine in the background, as the car speeds down the highway, getting a little closer to Calgary with every passing minute.

---

Your eyes flutter open to darkness around you, and the car sitting in the parking lot of a gas station.

You turn just enough to see Will: he’s behind the wheel, eyes closed, his mouth slightly agape as his head hangs back.

The car is surrounded by snow: white flurries of it floating down to the ground, hitting the car.

For a second, you wonder why you’re not cold. Then you catch sight of Will’s coat, draped over your legs and stomach. You can’t help but smile at it, and then you close your eyes again.

The situation feels safely serene and safe, and you might as well take advantage of that and get some more sleep.

--- 

When you wake up, it’s to the sound of Christmas music coming from the speakers, Willy’s voice singing along.

“Not the time for Christmas carols,” you groan, and Will laughs.

“It’s always time for Christmas carols, Y/N,” he chides. You hear rustling, and you finally open your eyes.

“I stopped for a few hours,” Will says, “just to get some sleep. But we’re up and running again.”

Ah, that explains the scene you woke up yesterday. You glance at the clock: 7am. The sun is slowly starting to rise.

“It’s too early for you to be this happy,” you grumble. You haven’t had any coffee yet and that means you’re really not in the mood to have Will radiating energy around you.

“How are you not this happy?” Will asks. “Look outside!”

Outside is the road, but you understand what he means. Everything is covered by a thick layer of snow.

“It’s… white,” you say, because that’s about as far as you’re getting.

“It’s beautiful!” Will’s eyes are lit up with excitement.

“You’re insane,” you state, because that has been proven by this exchange.

“No I’m not! Snow is amazing. It’s beautiful, and it’s fun. Everything gets better in winter.”

You crank up the heat in the car and rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Everything does not get better in winter,” you frown. “First of all, it’s cold. Everything is slippery because of the frost, the snow turns to yellow mush within a few hours. You have to shovel the driveway.”

“Or you could build snowmen with it. You can go skating on the ponds. Have snowball fights.”

You snort. “Snowball fights? What are we, 12?”

Will’s eyes widen slightly. “You’re never too old for a good snowball fight.” His voice is fond as he continues. “I play in the snow with my younger siblings every winter when I’m home. That’s like, the best part of Christmas.”

And, well…

“I can kinda get that, in concept,” you say softly. “There was never really anyone to play with me, I guess.”

Will’s eyes are a little sad as he glances over at you, but he doesn’t say anything. You appreciate that: you’re not ready to share anything more and it’s like he senses that. Instead, he changes the subject.

“Hey, have you ever been skating?”

“Nope,” you say, and the grin Willy shoots you is a little wicked.

“We’re changing that today.”

--- 

What Will means, apparently, is that it’s a good idea when you’re halfway between Toronto and Calgary to stop in a small little town and find an ice rink.

“This is insane,” you protest. “We’re losing time!”

“We’ve got 48 hours til Christmas,” Will shrugs, “and only an 18 hour drive left. Come on, after this we’ll drive straight through. It’ll be fun.” His eyes are shining and you can literally feel the excitement buzzing off of him, and, well…

Skating did always seem like fun to you. When you were younger, you asked your dad to take you once, but renting skates costs money so it never happened. You remember the disappointment in your dad’s eyes as he had to tell you no, so you didn’t dare ask again.

“I’ll buy you hot chocolate after,” Will coaxes. You don’t understand why he wants to go that badly: he spends most of his days on the ice, anyway, surely he’d be happy for a break.

“Fine,” you grumble, and you can’t help but laugh at the smug look on Willy’s face as he pulls the car to the side of the road.

The rink is small and filled with people. There’s a lot of small children that are skating behind little chairs, and you can picture yourself being there too.

“I’m gonna be so much worse than them,” you whine, at the same moment one of the kids falls onto the ice. A woman helps the little girl up and she goes right back at it.

You don’t think you’re gonna be that brave.

“Oh, shush, I’m not gonna let you fall,” says Will, and you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

This whole situation is so freaking cliche, and you are not going to fall for it.

You rent skates for you and Will brings his own, because of course he brought skates in his suitcase. You’re struggling with the laces on the bench next to the rink, mostly to stall for some time; your heart is beating fast in your throat and your hands are a little clammy.

“Need some help with those?” Will is sitting sideways on the bench, and he’s grinning at you amused while you struggle. Feeling a little bold, you swing your leg into his lap.

You can tell he wasn’t expecting it because his eyes widen slightly, but then the grin only broadens and he starts carefully lacing up your skates. You watch as his fingers work the laces expertly – it’s clear that he’s done this a million times before – and then, his hand curls around your ankle.

“Other one,” he orders, and you switch legs.

Finally, the skates are on and Will hops to his feet, extending his hand and helping you to your feet. You’re already wobbling and you’re not even on this ice yet.

“If I break my leg, I can’t drive,” you say, mostly because the thought pops into your head.

Will rolls his eyes. “You’re not gonna break your leg.”

“If I hit my head and have a concussion, I can’t drive either.”

“Y/N.” Will’s voice is firm enough that you look up at him. He’s frowning. “You’re not gonna break anything, or hit anything, or fall. If you really don’t want to do this, we can leave now, but if there’s any part of you that agrees that this could be kinda fun, I promise you I’ve got you.” His eyes are a little shiny as he adds: “Trust me?”

And it’s stupid, you know it is, because you barely know Will. You’re pretty sure you’d have found out if he truly was a serial killer or any other type of psycho, but you can’t be sure he’s not irresponsible – although he did pull over in the snow – or prove that he’s trustworthy in any way.

And yet…

“I trust you,” you say then, and the blinding smile that crosses Will’s face is worth the fear in your heart when you place your first foot on the ice.

You can feel it slipping right away, but Will literally hops on the ice next to you, two feet planted firmly on the slippery surface, and places his hands on your hips, steadying your waist. In a reflex, your hands curls around his biceps, and once again you are reminded that holy shit, he’s a professional athlete.

“Wow, easy,” Will hums. He slowly guides you further away from the door, and your other foot adds to your first, and then you’re gliding.

You can’t call it skating: Will is moving backwards and pulling you with him, but you’re not necessarily moving on your own.

The first round goes like that, and then you decide to be brave and start moving your feet.

To be fair, Will keeps his promise. He never leaves your side, his hand firmly on your lower back even when you do start skating yourself, ready to catch you whenever you stumble – which is a lot.

“I’m doing it,” you yelp excitedly, when he finally lets his hand hover a little away from you. “I’m skating!”

Will laughs. “Proud of you, babe.”

And it’s probably just something he says; he probably calls a lot of people babe, it probably means nothing, and yet…

“Help,” you manage to squeak, and then your arms are waving in the air and your feet are slipping from under you and you try to maintain your balance, but you can pinpoint the second it’s a lost cause.

For a split second you’re plummeting towards the ice, but then two arms are wrapped around your waist and you just kinda… hang there.

“Thanks,” you say dryly. You’re hanging in Will’s arms as he’s hysterically cackling out laughter above you. It takes him a few seconds to compose himself and pull you up.

“Majestic,” he giggles, and he tightens his grip on your waist when you slap him in the chest.

“Rude,” you grumble, but you can’t help the smile that’s tugging at the edges of your lips.

It’s weird, but suddenly you notice how close he is, and when his eyes travel to your lips the smile falls from his face and you can tell he noticed too.

You stare at him, and it’s like the air is charged with something; your heart is beating in your throat and you swear he’s moving closer.

Oh, you think, we’re gonna kiss.

Strangely enough, the thought doesn’t send panic to your throat the way it did when your ex kissed you the first time, the way it always has when someone kissed you. Instead, it’s like everything inside of you goes calm and quiet.

You want him to kiss you. And it’s a little scary how not scary that is.

You’re interrupted by a small voice.

“Mister Nylander?”

Will startles, yank back fast enough that you nearly tumble straight back down to the ice, but one firm hand on your waist keeps you standing. He turns around then, to face the little girl that spoke: she can’t be more than five years old and is wearing a helmet with a cage, holding a hockey stick in her hands and staring at Will with wide, starstruck eyes.

He bends down into a squat – on skates, literally, how – and smiles at the girl.

“Hi, yes, that’s me. You can call me Willy, though. What’s your name?”

“Amanda,” the girl beams. “Can I get your autograph, mister Willy?”

“Sure, kiddo,” Willy says. “How about I bring my friend here to the safety of the ground and I shoot some pucks with you, huh?”

Amanda looks like someone just offered her the entire world and everything in it. “Please,” she says, and Will quickly guides you towards the side of the rink.

“I won’t be long,” he promises, and he almost looks apologetic, which…

Which is ridiculous. Because you can tell that him just being here made that little girl’s day, and you think of the things you wanted as a little girl and the heroes you never got to meet, and…

“Take all the time in the world, please,” you say. “I’ll go get myself that hot chocolate.”

For two hours you sit at the side watching Will with the kids. Somehow after Amanda more and more kids appeared and now he’s created somewhat of an impromptu hockey team because they’re all playing and the adults cleared the rink.

It’s entertaining, to watch Will with the kids. He’s a good teacher, and you can see them hitting the net more and more as time passes on, and he clearly makes it fun: they’re all laughing and screaming and at one point, a few of them tackle Will to the ice, where he rolls around and pretends to be unable to get up, yet hops to his feet the second the kids get distracted.

It’s insane, how comfortably he moves around. Like, you knew this, because he’s a professional hockey player, of course he can skate, but you didn’t really think anything of it until you see it in action. He’s obviously not even trying to do anything fancy, and he’s probably not trying to be fast either, but he is, and he stops without problem and turns in any direction and even jumps over a puck, at some point.

You can’t lie. It’s kinda hot. But then, you’ve always had a thing for people who were clearly good at something.

For example, your ex was a really good painter. He was also really good at being a lying, cheating bastard.

Before you can go too far down that rabbit hole, there’s commotion on the rink, someone crying and then Will’s voice, too loud: “What happened?”

When you look up he’s kneeling in front of a little boy, who’s crying and staring at his hand.

You jump up, worrying, but Will has already lifted to kid in his arms and is skating towards you now, with big strides.

“He took a skate to the hand, we’re gonna need some bandages,” he says, and a parent yells something about getting a first aid kit while Will puts the kid on his lap on the bench. “Can you look at him?” he asks you, worry evident in his voice even though he’s clearly trying to remain calm. He’s a little pale, but you don’t have time to deal with that right now.

“Hey, buddy,” you coo at the kid, kneeling in front of him, placing your hand on Will’s knee to steady yourself. “What’s your name?”

“Tim,” the kid cries. “My hand hurts!”

“I know it does, Tim. But the good news is that we can fix it,” you promise him, examining the hand. It doesn’t look too bad: there’s a cut, but not deep enough to perforate anything more than flesh, so you’re not too worried.

The first aid kit arrives and so does Timmy’s dad, who doesn’t seem too bothered. “He falls all the time,” he says, “that’s what hockey is, isn’t it?” He preens at Will, who dutifully ignores him in order to talk to Timmy in a low voice.

You wrap up Timmy’s hand and tell him to take it easy for a few days, and then before you know it you’re in the car and Will is holding the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are turning white.

“Do you want me to drive?” you ask tentatively. There’s no answer, but Will isn’t turning on the car. “He’s gonna be okay, you know.” Silence. Another try. “It’s not your fault.”

“I just can’t believe,” Will starts, but he seems to choke on the last word and lets the sentence die, drops his head and inhales sharply. It takes a while, but finally he speaks, a little more composed. “I hate when parents tell their kids that hockey is about pain and sacrifice. It can be, sometimes, but it shouldn’t be, not for a little kid. It should be about fun, and learning skill, and being with teammates, and loving it. It shouldn’t be about falling and injuries.”

He sounds so frustrated that it tugs at your heart strings, and for a split second you allow yourself to wonder what Will was told by his dad, when he was a kid himself.

“He wasn’t even trying to soothe him,” Willy bites. “He was too busy fawning over the presence of a professional hockey player, and I don’t… I don’t wanna be the person these idiots believe I am.”

“And you’re not,” you blurt out. “Will, these kids had so much fun with you.”

Will smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I just… Me and my brother, we always had fun skating. My dad told us it was important to always have fun. But I’ve seen it happen to friends. They were so passionate about hockey, but their parents pushed them, wanted them to be better too quick and told them to suck it up when the skates hurt their feet and it just fizzled out, you know? Until one day it wasn’t any fun and they quit.”

“It’s a shame,” you echo. “But your dad…?”

“He was hard on us, sure.” Will shrugs, smiles for real this time. “Pushed us to be better. But he always made it fun.” He turns to you. “Your dad… He stood behind your dreams?”

You remember you told him your mom didn’t think you could be a nurse, and you laugh. “The blood thing, you mean? Yeah, he didn’t agree with my mom. He always told me I could be whatever I wanted to be, and if I decided I wanted to be something else, I could be that, too. He’s always been there for me.” You shrug. “I’m lucky to have him. My mom… She left when I was 12. And I…”

You stop, for a second, wondering if you’re really gonna tell this to a complete stranger. But the thing is, Will doesn’t feel like a complete stranger anymore. Talking to him feels more comfortable than talking to most of your friends, and you can tell he really cares about what you’re saying, and you just, you want to tell him, so you do.

“I don’t like Christmas because my mom left right before Christmas, and she said: ‘I might not see you for a while, honey, but I’ll send you a Christmas gift.’ She didn’t, and I never saw her again.”

When you glance at Will, he’s frowning, a deep crease edged into his forehead. “That’s messed up.”

“Yeah, but, it was a long time ago. I’m mostly over it, I just never learned to love Christmas the way most kids do, I guess. My dad tried to make it fun for me, but it was always the reminder, you know, that I didn’t have a mom and other kids did.” You laugh, a little bitterly. “And then this year my ex-boyfriend dumped me on the 16th. My mom left me on the 17th. So I guess December is just not a good month for me.”

“Your ex is an asshole.” Will says it with such force, gritting his teeth, that you can’t help but reach over and put your hand on his knee.

“It’s okay,” you muse, and the tension leaves Will’s shoulders as he carefully wraps your hand in his.

His hand is warm and a little rough and there’s something hammering in your chest, and you wonder how it’s possible that you met him two days ago and he’s already making you feel more than your ex-boyfriend ever had.

You guess you never really liked that guy as much as you told yourself you did. 

“It’s not,” he says, but he doesn’t so upset anymore. “And if he was here, I’d punch him in the face. But I’m glad to see you didn’t let him hurt you too much.” Will grins. “And now you’ve been skating, so, like, fuck him.”

“Fuck him,” you echo, and Will starts the car.

18 hours to go. And then you’re in Calgary, and you’re gonna see your dad, and you’ll probably never see Will again.

For some reason that thought leaves a sinking feeling in your chest.

--- 

“Psst.” You groan as someone softly tugs your arm. You try to turn around, but there’s something digging in your back and you can’t quite get there. The tugging gets more persistent. “Hey, Y/N.”

“What?” you grumble, finally forcing yourself to open your eyes, and it’s only when you see Will’s face in front of you that you realize you’re not in your bed. You’re in a car, it’s pitch dark outside, and you’re standing in front of a lit up building.

“Snow storm is getting really, really bad,” Will says. “We have to stop for the night. It’s not safe to keep driving.”

You’re about to tell him to stop being such a baby, and you’ll drive, no problem, when you risk a glance out the window and see… nothing.

Literally, almost nothing. Just a big building, and some lights that could be from streetlights or UFOs, for all you know, because there’s a big blanket of white covering your sight. Snowflakes are streaming down in a curtain, and you can hear the wind howl around the car.

Okay, yeah, maybe it is unsafe to drive.

“Where are we?”

“Hotel,” Will says. “I checked, only hotel within 10 minutes of the highway. Pray that they have a room for us.”

He leaves you in the seat to wake up a bit more, and goes to get your luggage; he swings your bag over his shoulder and hauls his suitcase out of the trunk, and finally opens your door.

“Come on.”

You grab his hand and let him pull you out of the car, although you walk in front of him to enter the hotel. The woman behind the desk looks up as you open the door.

“Please close that behind you,” she says, friendly enough, “I swear if that cold comes in I might freeze, here.”

“Hi,” you say to her, “I know, it’s bad, right? We were hoping you have two rooms available for us, so we can escape the storm?”

The woman types something on her computer, then frowns. “I’m sorry, it’s very busy at the moment. Lots of people stopping in from the highway. I have one room left, if you’d like? Double bed.”

Oh, fuck. You’re not sure if you’ve quite wrapped your head around in, when Will chimes in next to you.

“Cool, we’ll take it.”

“We…” you start protesting, but Will raises an eyebrow and looks at you with so much attitude that it shuts you up.

“Would you rather freeze to death in a car?” he asks pointedly. “I’ll take the couch or the floor, or whatever, chill. I promise I won’t murder you in your sleep.”

Getting murdered is not what you’re worried about, to be honest. You’re worried that sharing a hotel room with Will is just gonna make these feelings in the pit of your stomach worse.

But there’s not really another option.

“Fine. We’ll take it.”

“You know,” Will chirps, when you’ve got the keycard and he’s taking the luggage up the stairs, “there’s a lot of girls that would kill to be forced to share a room with me.”

“That’s because they’ve only looked at your face, and don’t know your personality,” you drawl, and you know you’ve made a mistake when Will’s face lights up.

“You think I’ve got a pretty face?”

“Not what I said,” you answer quickly; too quickly, because Will is looking way too smug as he takes the keycard out of your hand and opens the hotel room door.

The room itself is nothing special. It’s small, but the bed looks comfortable and it’s warm, so you’ll take it.

“Shotgun on the bathroom,” you say as soon as you get in, and Will rolls his eyes but dutifully flops on the bed and starts typing on his phone while you find your toothbrush and disappear to the bathroom.

When you walk out, Will is laying sprawled over the bed, although he’s luckily still on top of the duvets. His hoodie has ridden up a bit and his sweatpants are – dangerously – low on his hips, so there’s a strip of skin showing.

Your mouth goes funnily dry, all of a sudden.

The thing is. You might not have wanted to be stuck in a hotel room with a guy you met at the airport only 2 days prior, but if it had to happen, Will is not a bad guy to be stuck with. He’s, objectively, very hot – you’re not blind – and he’s funny, and easy to talk to, and he’s been nothing but nice, even when you were a teeny tiny bit rude to him at the airport.

Did you mention he’s very hot?

“I’m gonna shower,” he says, jumping up from the bed.

While he’s doing that, you lay in bed and scroll through Instagram on your phone. Maybe you stalk Will on Instagram, only for a little bit, and you find a picture of him with his siblings that’s so cute it has you smiling at your phone.

“What are you smiling at?” Will’s voice surprises you so much that you drop your phone on your face with a yelp, and the sound of his laughter rings in your ears as you bury your red hot face into the pillow.

You hadn’t even heard him open the bathroom door again. Luckily, you don’t think he saw, but you lock your phone just in case.

Then, you look up, and if you thought you couldn’t be any redder in the face, boy were you wrong.

Because Will is wearing boxers, and nothing else. Now, you think to yourself, as you glance at him before shamefully returning your gaze to your hands, if you had a body like that, maybe you’d be more keen on showing it off too, but…

“You’re gonna be cold,” you tell him, and you can hear, more than see, his eye roll as he says:

“Okay, mom.” Then, he opens the closet and takes another duvet out. “I’ll be fine, I have this.” He grins a little cheekily, as if he fully knows what he’s doing to you. “Normally I sleep naked, but…”

“But not today,” you squeak, and he’s laughing again.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of letting him know that he’s getting to you, you throw the second pillow at his head and then roll to your side.

“Goodnight, Will.”

“Goodnight,” he answers softly. You listen as he potters around the room; probably tries to get his ‘bed’ for tonight as comfortable as possible. Finally, the lights click off.

You can’t sleep. You know it the second the lights are off, and Will’s breathing evens out. Your mind is going a million miles per hour and there’s so many things that happened, that you’re going to have to overthink before you can sleep. What’s not helping, either, is the fact that Will keeps tossing and turning.

You’re starting to feel a bit bad. You’re in a bed that’s big enough for two – maybe even three, it’s that big – and Will is laying on a cold, hard floor, with just one duvet and a pillow.

Outside, the wind is howling, and you know if you looked out the window the entire world would be covered in white. The room is warm enough, but you picture how there must be a draft, so close to the floor, and suddenly you can’t take it anymore.

It’s selfish, to make him sleep on the floor all because you’re worried about wanting things you can’t have.

“This is stupid,” you say, sitting up. “You should just sleep in the bed.”

For a second, it’s quiet. When Will speaks, he sounds unsure. “Are you sure? I mean, the floor isn’t great, but I don’t mind, I promise, if you’d rather not…”

“Look, we don’t have to, like, cuddle, or anything.” You can feel yourself blush but in the darkness of the room, there’s no way Will can see, so you keep talking. “You stay on your side, I’ll stay on my side, and it’s basically the same distance as having you on the floor. Just, the floor is cold, and uncomfortable, and there’s no need to…”

“Okay,” Will cuts you off, and he jumps up, duvet in hand. He’s grinning as he slides into the bed, curling the duvet around himself. “You don’t have to convince me, I was just being a gentleman.”

You snort. “Don’t do it again, it freaks me out.”

“You drive tomorrow, then,” Will hums, and it already feels better, to hear his voice right next to you instead of from somewhere at your feet. He sounds better, too; lighter, and more comfortable. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Hmm?” you answer, finally closing your eyes.

“If I had to cross the country in a Kia during a snow storm with anyone from that airport, I’m glad it’s you.”

You think of what you were thinking before, and smile.

“Me too, Willy, me too.”

It’s quiet again, and Will’s breathing starts evening out. For some reason, you still can’t calm down: you try to match your breathing to his, but it’s too shallow and you can feel your heart beating in your chest.

“You’re fidgeting,” Will says then, his voice loud in the quiet room. Only then do you notice that you have been twisting the duvet between your fingers time and time again. Will goes to lay on his stomach and turns his head to you. “You okay? I can sleep on the f…”

“It’s not you,” you interrupt him. It is, of course, but not in the way he thinks.

“Okay,” Will says slowly. “Then what?” Before you can answer he reaches out and slowly wraps his hand around yours, causing your fingers to dis-attach from the duvet.

And, the thing is…

You could tell him to mind his business. You could tell him a lie, or something that’s kinda true but not the real reason.

Tomorrow, you’ll be in Calgary. On your dad’s couch, drinking hot chocolate. And Will is gonna be in his own house. And then after Christmas, you’re both flying back to Toronto, but you’re not stupid. Will is a famous, and really attractive, athlete. You just got out of another failed relationship. You’re not good at relationships, turn out; you don’t even know if you really believe in love, anymore, don’t know if you even think it’s worth it to try.

But right now, you’re here, and he’s here, and you swear you’re not imagining the way he looks at you, sometimes.

You’ve had to deal with cancelled planes, problems at work, a dumb ex boyfriend, and this stupid everlasting snow, ruining your life one day at a time. So, you might as well give yourself this one thing that you want.

“Or, it is you,” you say, and you can feel Will stiffen beside you. “But it’s not that I don’t want you in this bed with me. In fact, it’s kinda the opposite.”

You can feel your cheeks flush: you’re not good at this, don’t really know what to say.

But then Willy grins and suddenly he rolls around, his body now hovering over you as he pushes himself up on his forearms.

“So does that mean I finally get to kiss you?” he hums, and you answer by pressing your lips against his.

---

Hours later, you’re both naked, a mess of tangled limbs in sheets, and Will’s chest is rising and falling with every peaceful breath. You close your eyes and bury your face in his neck.

Outside, it snows, and it snows, and it snows.

---

You wish you could enjoy the next 10 hours.

First, you spend 2 hours getting showered and ready – it would’ve been a lot shorter if Will hadn’t slipped in the shower with you, so it’s his fault if you’re late – and then you have breakfast at the hotel while Will tells you more about his family.

His face lights up when he tell you which Christmas gifts he’s got for his siblings and it’s adorable.

Then, you drive. The final 6 hour drive, and it flies by so fast you would’ve believed it if someone said it was just 2. You drive the first few hours and then Will takes over for the last part, and you chat the whole way there.

At some point, Will starts singing along to Christmas songs, and you don’t even change the channel.

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” Will croons; you can’t help but laugh and then you’re both laughing and singing along at the top of your lungs.

You wish it never had to end.

“So,” says Will, “this is your street, huh?”

You decided he would drop you off and take care of returning the rental car, and you’re almost regretting that decision cause you would’ve liked those 20 extra minutes with him. However, you know that that is, objectively, insane, so you ignore the knives that are being ran through your heart when Will parks the car on the curb.

“Home, at last,” he says, softly. He’s not smiling anymore. “So, when we get back to Toronto, we should…”

“Don’t,” you interrupt softly. “We both know this is where it ends for us.”

At this, Will frowns. “It doesn’t have to.”

“Yes, it does.” You swallow heavily, try to get rid of the lump in your throat. It doesn’t feel right but it is, and you need to let it end here before you end up with hopes that will crash and burn and expectations that will never be met.

“What if I don’t want it to?” he asks quietly.

As much as Will might believe he wants to see you again – and you don’t doubt that he’s being truthful about that - it’s just not realistic.

People don’t meet the love of their life in an airport after a cancelled flight, don’t live together forever after long a cross-country drive, don’t live happily ever after after a snowed in hotel.

People do leave their husbands and kids the week before Christmas, they do cheat on you, they do break your heart.

Snow might make things seem more magical, but after all, it’s just frozen water.

“But I want that.”

Will’s face falls, his eyes sad and honest, but he nods slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Thanks for the drive, then.”

His voice is distant, now, cold and impersonal: you know you deserve it but it hurts, anyway, and you scurry out of the car, take your suitcase out of the trunk.

You’re standing next to the car, ready to walk down the driveway, when the window opens.

Will’s head pops out, and he sends you what you think is meant to be a smile. It’s not a real one, and he still mostly just looks sad, but he’s trying, you think.

“I know December is a hard month for you, but I truly do hope it’s gonna get better. Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

The window closes and the car drives off, and something inside of you breaks.

“Merry Christmas, Will,” you whisper with tears in your eyes. You could’ve stood there for hours, but the front door opens.

“Y/N?” your dad’s voice calls. “I’m so glad you made it, you won’t believe the snow we’ve had…”

--- 

There’s a blanket on your lap as well as Snuggles – your dad’s cat – and you’re drinking tea while Elf plays on the television.

Your dad has been talking excitedly all through dinner, but now it’s quiet as he watches the movie. He seems happy, light, and it soothes something inside of you.

Sometimes you worry about him.

It’s not until the end credits roll that your dad turns to you. “Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks tentatively, and that’s all that you need to hear in order to break into tears. “Oh, honey,” he sighs, then takes your hand in his. “What happened?”

You have no idea where to start.

“Dad,” you whisper, “do you think you can die from a broken heart?”

Your dad smiles sadly, shakes his head. “If you could, I would’ve been gone by now, probably,” he jokes, but it doesn’t land. “Is this about that boyfriend of yours?”

And, well, the funny thing is, you haven’t told your dad about the break up, but it doesn’t even matter. Your heart is broken and it has nothing to do with your ex.

So you tell him about Will. You tell him about how you almost weren’t here, tell him about cancelled planes and one lone rental car, about how he went from Will to William Nylander right back to Will, about coffee breaks and sleeping on the side of the road and skating and the little kid who hurt his hand, about snow storms and a hotel room with one bed – not about anything else from that night, though – and finally you tell him about goodbye.

When it’s all said and done, your dad frowns. “You keep saying it had to end. But honey, it sounds like you really like this guy.”

You do, oh God, you do.

“Why would it have to end?”

You don’t say anything, but as always, he knows exactly what you mean.

“Just because it ended for your mom and I doesn’t mean it always has to end, you know. Sometimes it’s worth to try.” He pats your hand. “I think you should call him.”

And that’s when it hits you. It doesn’t really matter if you’d wanna call him. 

You don’t even have his phone number.

--- 

“Y/N! Patient in room 11!” your colleague yells. “I’m going to the kid in room 4 if you need me!”

You sigh and throw down your clipboard. You have no idea why the hospital is so busy; it’s December 28th, which promises a disaster on New Years Eve, which is usually your busiest day of the year.

Fireworks, man.

You’ve been on your feet for 9 hours but you don’t even really mind. Just the thrill of working in a new hospital has been keeping you going; it might have something to do with the fact that this hospital will let you finish your residency, too. They called you the day after Christmas.

Some might call it somewhat of a Christmas miracle.

“I’m on it,” you call back, then start making your way to room 11. You nearly bump into the doctor you’re working with today, and she halts you by putting a hand on your arm.

“Are you a Leafs fan?” she asks.

It might be the weirdest thing someone has randomly asked you; the conversations you have had with this woman have ranged from “can you get me some blood from the vomiting boy” and “in what room do I find the catheters” and now she’s asking you about your sports teams?

Your heart clenches tightly as you think of Will.

“Not really,” you answers. That seems to be the right answer because the doctor smiles and waves towards the room, telling you to enter. You’re still confused by the whole exchange when you walk into the room and nearly trip over your own feet.

“Oh,” Will says slowly, “that’s quite a coincidence.”

It’s like your tongue has grown two sizes; you can’t speak, can’t even begin to think of what words to say, when suddenly you notice something.

“What the hell happened to you?”

There’s blood all over the hand he’s clutching to his chest, and his face is white as a ghost. Next to him is an equally pale guy wearing a Leafs sweater, who is staring at you with wide eyes.

“Uhm, I fell,” Will says sheepishly. “Turns out snow is quite slippery.”

It hasn’t snowed in Toronto in days.

“He didn’t fall in the snow,” the guy next to him grumbles. “I tried to wrestle the remote out of his hand and he fell into the Christmas tree and sliced his hand open with an ornament.”

“And Kappy has just promised to clean everything up, right, Kap?” Will asks with a sly smirk. Some of the color is returning to his face, which is more than you can say for his friend Kappy.

“Okay, well, let me have a look,” you mutter, and you gather some of your supplies before sitting next to the bed.

If you try very hard to avoid Will’s eyes and focus completely on the gash on his hand, that’s between you and the hospital room.

“So, first aid, huh?” Will asks. “Found a new job? Told you.” He sounds stupidly smug, so you raise your eyebrow and press the gauze to the wound. He inhales sharply. “That’s mean.”

“I’m trying to clean it,” you tell him sternly. “Sit still. God, Timmy was a better patient.”

“Hey,” Will protests, offended. “I’m a perfect patient.”

When you see how deep the wound is, you wonder how it’s possible that Will is still so chatty, and you also feel a little nauseous; it’s always different when it’s someone you care about.

“I’m gonna go get doctor Summers,” you say, and your voice is a little unsteady.

You’re probably imagining the edge of disappointment to Will’s voice when he says: “Yeah, okay.”

While doctor Summers examines Will’s hand, his eyes are fixed on you, and you keep yours fixed on your shoes. There’s so much you want to say to him, so much you want to do, but this is not the time or the place and also you have no idea how to start a conversation like that.

You tune back into the here and now when you hear the word “surgery.”

“It’s not a real surgery,” doctor Summers says, “I just think we need to set a bone and we also need to stitch up the muscles.”

Will is a little pale again as he nods.

You get send away to prepare the necessities for the procedure and when you come back, Will’s friend is gone.

“He’s gonna pick me up when I’m done,” says Will, who sees you looking. “Are you gonna… Are you gonna be here, while she does it?”

“Nope,” you answer, and this time you’re definitely not imagining the way his face falls. “Are you gonna get in trouble with the team for this?”

Will pulls a face. “I’ll probably get a stern talking to from Kyle.” When he sees your expression, he laughs. “My boss.” He sighs, looks out the window.

It’s started snowing, again, because apparently the universe loves taunting you.

“You know what the worst thing is? I ruined my tree.”

“That’s definitely not the worst part,” you roll your eyes. “It’s after Christmas, you should’ve probably taken it down anyway.”

“I couldn’t take it down yet,” says Will, his face completely serious, “there’s still one Christmas miracle I’m waiting for.”

He’s staring at you intently and you can feel your heart beating in your throat.

There’s no way he means…

But what if there is?

You make a decision then, and when Will is getting his hand worked on in a different room you run to the cafeteria.

“Hey,” you yell at the lady behind the counter. “I’m gonna borrow this for a second!”

She looks at you like you’re a crazy person and you can’t blame her: you’re literally standing in your scrubs, screaming at her from the middle of the cafeteria after having just yanked a tiny Christmas tree from the table.

“Okay?” she yells back, and it sounds more like a question than a blessing, but you take it and run anyway.

Room 11 is still empty; although Will’s coat is still lying on the bed, so he must be coming back. You take the tiny tree and put it on the bed side table, plug it in.

There’s only about 10 lights in the tree, but when you flick off the big lights, it still looks pretty Christmassy.

And so, you wait.

To say you’re nervous would be an understatement; there’s every possibility in the world that Will has changed his mind since you last saw each other, and the last thing he wants is you confessing how much you like him in a hospital room after just having destroyed his hand, but you have to try.

Every time you think about bailing, you hear your dad’s voice in your head.

Sometimes it’s worth it to try.

This is one of those times.

“No strenuous activities, take it easy…” Finally you hear doctor Summers voice and you stand up.

The door opens tauntingly slowly, and there is Will. At first, his eyes widen as they catch the Christmas tree, and then his head swivels around and he sees you; a slow smile spreads across his face.

“A Christmas tree?” he asks.

“Well,” you smile, “you did say you wanted a Christmas miracle…”

“But you don’t like Christmas,” Will points out.

And that’s true, but…

You take a step closer and Will raises an eyebrow, questioning but not looking like he wants to run away.

“I don’t,” you admit. “I didn’t. But then something happened… Or, well, someone happened. And now I’m thinking that I might have to give Christmas a chance.” You’re standing right in front of Will, now, and he had all the time in the world to back off but he didn’t. Instead, he’s looking at you with an amused expression on his face, the corners of his mouth curled into a tentative smile.

“I think there might be a few things I have to give a chance,” you finish.

“God,” Will breathes. “I really hope you mean us.”

Instead of answering, you kiss him.

It feels somewhat familiar and yet as if you’ve never been kissed before: there’s fireworks in your stomach and everything feels warm and fuzzy, like nothing matters except for the feeling of Will’s lips on your lips, his chest pressed against yours.

“Y/N!” someone yells from the hallway, and you reluctantly pull away.

“I have to get back to work…”

“Okay,” Will whispers, pecks you cheek quickly. “But we’ll talk…”

“I’m done with work in an hour,” you interrupt.

Will nods. “I’ll tell Kappy he doesn’t have to pick me up.” He grins. “Unless you’d rather not drive in the snow?”

“Shut up,” you tell him, but it’s with nothing but fondness.

You’re already running to the hallway, ready to see the next patient, when you hear Will yell after you: “You said you hate snow!”

And that’s kinda true, but…

Sometimes, even if it messes up your plane, or gets you stuck in a snowstorm, or makes you fall on your ass…

You just have to let it snow.

[searchingforstarss]

you heal me like the light of day

the third fic in my febuwhump/fluff series is here :)) this is written for the fluff prompts sick day + waking up together and the whump prompts graceless + stabbed. 

ps there’s mild injury description in here as well as a super brief mention of violence and shootings in schools. look after yourself x

posted on ao3 here

---

Scaring Morgan half to death really wasn’t part of Peter’s plans when he agreed to go outside and play pet hotel with Gerald after dinner in the dying autumn light.

He was in the middle of getting the alpaca ready for his spa appointment (aka Morgan brandishing a bucket of soapy water) when he lost consciousness.

It’s not like he did it on purpose. It just sort of... happened.

---

There’s a hand pressed across his forehead. It’s nice, cool - cooler than he feels anyway. He leans into it.

There’s a brief moment of confusion in which all of Peter’s thoughts jumble together and when he blinks his eyes open again, he’s not in Gerald’s pen anymore but spread out across the couch in the living room. Morgan’s there still, standing off to the side with strands of hay still stuck to her shoes while Tony is hovering over him closely, concern etched all over his face.

Peter is about to ask him what’s wrong before something is being pushed into his ear and he frowns, trying to squirm away.

Tony rests a hand on Peter’s shoulder, applying just enough pressure to keep him in place. “Just a sec, Pete. Gotta check your temperature.”

Peter scowls weakly. “Not sick.”

“You fainted, bud. I thought Gerald had bitten Morgan’s hand off or something judging by the way she was screaming.”

Guilt washes through Peter as the tinny beep echoes through his ear and Tony pulls the thermometer away. There isn’t much he hates more than scaring Morgan.

Tony glances down at the screen on the thermometer and Peter doesn’t like the brief look of worry that crosses his face as he does. “Not sick,” Peter mutters again petulantly.

“Not sick, huh? The thermometer and I beg to differ. You’re running a pretty impressive fever, just about to hit 101 degrees.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Reckon this is the flu?” Tony asks, voice still gentle even despite Peter’s clear attempts to push him away. He really doesn’t need hovering over right now. “Have you got a headache? Sore throat? Feeling achy?”

Tony’s taken a seat across from him on the coffee table, reaching out a hand to brush it over Peter’s forehead again, thumb smoothing a few strands of hair away from his eyes. Peter just reaches up to bat it away weakly.

This isn’t the flu, Peter knows it isn’t.

The only part of him that’s aching is his side, just above his hip bone, but in all honesty that’s a secret that Peter was really hoping to keep to himself - for his own good. He's starting to doubt he'll be able to though, judging by the way that Tony’s staring him down and how his brain is starting to feel like it’s melting a little inside his own head.

Peter flounders uncomfortably under Tony’s gaze, suddenly wanting nothing more than to get up off the couch and get out of this situation.

He’s always been hopeless at keeping secrets from Tony. He only didn’t cancel this weekend at the lake house because he knew cancelling would be a sure-fire move to make Tony suspicious. Now, he’s wondering whether that was the right call at all.

“I, uh, you know what? I think you’re right. My head’s really sore, it has been all day actually, and I think that’s… that’s my stomach now, feeling really queasy. The flu really is the worst. I really should be in bed right now, shouldn’t I? Sleep cures all ailments or something like that…” Peter trails off awkwardly. Tony carries on staring. He’s suspicious now, Peter can tell, and he curses himself. He must have taken the flu thing too far. Damn it.

“Peter, if there’s something I don’t know about then I need you to tell me.”

Peter shifts. He fidgets with his fingers, tries to stall having to open his mouth and say anything else. His eyes dart over to Morgan, who’s now made herself comfortable on the armchair in the corner, distracted by a couple of animal figurines now, completely oblivious that her older brother is about to get himself in a lot of trouble.

Tony takes a gentle hold of his chin and tilts it back towards him so he’s got no choice but to look the man in the eyes. Peter exhales slowly. His side really does hurt and he wonders whether he tore a few of his (very shoddily done) stitches when he collapsed. He really doesn’t remember it throbbing this much before then.

“Peter,” Tony says again, and Peter pulls his chin away from Tony’s grip so he can avert his eyes down to his lap.

“Iwasstabbedafewdaysago” Peter blurts, and Tony’s eyes narrow infinitesimally as if this wasn’t what he was expecting at all.

“I don’t know if I quite got that, you wanna try slowing it down this time?” he says carefully, very clearly daring Peter to repeat what he’s pretty sure he heard.

Peter swallows. He dares. “I was stabbed. A few days ago. I took care of it, I promise, but it’s not, um, not really healing?” Peter says, voice rising at the end like he’s questioning.

“You were stabbed,” Tony repeats slowly, and Peter nods. “Okay. Wanna tell me how?”

Tony’s still staying fairly calm and measured. Peter isn’t sure where the angry reaction that he’d been expecting is.

“It was, um, look, it’s not that I wasn’t listening to you, but there were these guys and I overheard these things and I couldn’t just not-”

“You were out as Spider-Man?” Tony’s voice is lower now, just a touch more dangerous and Peter thinks ah, here’s the anger.

See, this is the issue. He’s kinda, sorta, definitely not meant to be out at Spider-Man at the moment.

He and Tony made an agreement a few weeks ago. After Europe and the whole Beck fiasco happened, Tony thought that Peter could really use the time out. Something about how being away from the Spider-Man suit would help him become clearer in his own head and himself again. The idea was mostly born out of the worry and panic that had resided inside Tony since the second he found out Peter was in trouble halfway across the damn world and he couldn’t do anything but sit back uselessly while Rhodey and Happy went to his aid. Tony doesn't like being useless, and he definitely doesn't like seeing Peter hurt.

Peter hadn’t thought it was too bad of an idea at first. He did really need the break at the time, but it was foolish to hope it would last. He wasn’t going to just sit back while everything was happening, not while there were men with weapons, not while they were threatening-

“Peter,” Tony snaps, waving a hand in front of his face. “Are you listening to me? I asked you a question. Were you out as Spider-Man?”

Peter rolls his eyes, against all his best instincts. He feels like shit, he’s being interrogated and all he wants is the waves of red hot pain to leave him alone. “I… ugh, yes, okay? I was. When the hell else am I going to be stabbed?”

Tony raises his eyebrows at Peter’s tone but doesn’t do anything to reprimand it. “This is New York City we’re talking about. I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt but apparently, that was absolutely the wrong thing to do.”

Silence.

“See? I told you anyway. Not sick,” Peter mutters suddenly after a moment, and Tony makes a slightly choked sound of outrage.

“Not sick? Peter Parker, in what world can you not see that maybe hiding a stab wound is worse than just being sick?”

Peter just shrugs. He could really use a nap right about now. This conversation is officially right down the very bottom of the list of things he wants to be doing right now.

“Let’s see it then.”

Peter pulls back slightly. “What?”

“Where you were stabbed. I need to see it.”

“It’s taken care of. You don’t need to-”

“If you’ve got a fever, I have a feeling it might not be nearly as well taken care of as you think,” Tony says sternly and Peter realises that he’s backed into a corner. There’s no way he’s leaving the room, or even getting up off the couch, without letting Tony examine him.

“But, Morgan…”

Peter hopes she hasn’t been listening in too closely, but for better or for worse, she’s fairly desensitised to hearing about Peter’s escapades by now. That doesn’t mean he wants her to see the consequences of them though.

Tony glances over his shoulder as if he’s just remembered that his daughter is in the room. “Hey, baby? You wanna go find Mom for a second?”

Morgan looks up from the animal figurine clutched now in her fist - a zebra - and shakes her head. “Petey’s hurt. Wanna stay with you.”

So she has been listening.

“I’ve got a really important job for you that you could do for me and Peter, though. Reckon you could tell Mommy we might need her down here with the special spider first-aid kid?”

Morgan jumps up and dashes from the room just as Peter protests, “I don’t need the first-aid-”

“Kid,” Tony warns and Peter shuts up. “Right, show me what we’re working with.”

Peter grimaces, but reluctantly tugs up the hem of his jumper to reveal the white bandage he’d adhered slightly wonkily over his wound. Pus and blood leak from the edges, but Tony barely even flinches until he reaches forward to slowly pull the bandage away, revealing the swollen, angry-looking skin underneath. There are red streaks that travel from the wound, further up Peter’s side.

“I - okay, Jesus, fuck,” Tony breathes out, jerking his eyes away from the injury.

Peter just looks down at it with an almost morbid fascination. He’d figured that his healing was working a bit slower than usual and that was why he was feeling run-down, but he didn’t think it was this bad.

“That’s infected, Peter,” Tony says shortly.

“I thought it would heal.”

“Yeah? Well, it isn’t and you know what sepsis is. I know you do. That can kill you. Is that what you want?” Tony presses, leaning in a bit closer to Peter but he pulls away from the man.

Peter freezes. “N-No, it’s not, I - I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just had to-”

“You didn’t have to do anything. What you were meant to do was remember that we had an agreement - which is clearly defunct now - about you and Spider-Man. So why are you sitting on my couch with a stab wound in your side?”

“It’s not what you think, Tony, I-”

“I think it’s exactly what I think. I know you, Peter, you have a hero complex the size of Manhattan but you need to learn that you don’t have to be the one throwing yourself down on the wire every damn time. You and I both agreed that you were going to have this break because you were worn down. You needed it.”

Peter’s too tired to even try and explain anything to Tony anymore. He knows nothing will get through, and he feels sick to his stomach but he’s not sure whether that’s from the weight of Tony’s disappointment or the infection.

“Did I really need a break? Or did you just need a break from having to worry about me?” Peter dares to ask. His voice is quiet with the knowledge that he's stepping into territory that he's not even sure he wants to be in.

Tony’s head shoots up and an odd mix of hurt and indignation twists on his face. He considers his words.

“I’m not doing this with you, not while you’re hurt. I’m going to call Bruce. I’ll get Pepper to come and look at that for you.”

As Tony gets up off the coffee table and turns to leave the room, his shoulders are pulled up in a tight, defensive posture. Peter almost wants to ask him to come back. He doesn't. Pride lodges itself in his throat instead and stops him from calling out.

He slumps and presses himself further into the couch. Slightly deliriously, he thinks that if it wasn’t for Gerald and his damn spa evening then maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

  Pepper’s in front of him a few minutes later. She takes one look at his wound before declaring that there’s no way she’s going to deal with it on the couch because "blood truly is a pain to get out of these cushions.” 

They end up in the spare bathroom downstairs, Peter perched precariously on the edge of the bathtub. His head is still spinning a little and he keeps a tight grip on the sides to try and stop himself from slipping backwards.

“Let’s have another look,” Pepper murmurs, and she helps Peter lift his jumper off over his head, wincing in sympathy as his face screws up in pain at the movement.

“Tony said you tried to take care of this yourself?” she asks once she’s fully removed the bandaging, "you stitched it up at home?" Peter gives a feeble nod in response.

“Okay. Clearly, your body didn’t love that, but your healing has definitely been trying a little bit. It’s healed enough that we won’t need to re-stitch this up once I’m done. We have one positive,” Pepper tells him, clearly trying to keep her voice light.

Peter tries for a laugh, but it comes out stunted and forced.

He sits as still as he possibly can, teeth digging into his bottom lip as Pepper cleans the wound with warm water, using some mild soap to wash away all of the gunk and fluid clogging it before she examines it closer.

Pepper focuses on the task at hand, but every so often Peter catches her looking up at him slightly questioningly as if she’s trying to figure something out.

“What?”

Pepper looks up again in surprise.

“Sorry,” Peter mutters, already regretting his abrasive tone. “I just - I, you keep looking at me funny.”

Pepper considers for a second.

“Sorry, no, I just wonder - why don’t you get May to do this? With her job and all. You don’t need to do everything by yourself, Peter, not all time…” Pepper says, trailing off at the end with worry that she’s overstepped but Peter just shakes his head to tell her it’s okay. He doesn’t mind. It’s only Pepper. He trusts her.

“I - I can’t.” He pauses. He fidgets with his fingers then stops because he knows he’s meant to be trying to stay as still as possible. “It's just, um, I don’t want her to worry, or have to see things like this when it’s me, y’know. Not after my uncle.”

“That makes sense,” Pepper says softly. There's a sort of underlying understanding clear in her voice and it fills a need for validation inside of Peter, that he’s doing the right thing by trying to look after himself, that he didn't know he had.

The bathroom falls into silence after that, and Pepper pulls what Peter thinks must be an antiseptic cream out of the first-aid kid, because when she applies it, as gentle as she is, it stings. Peter can’t stop the groan of pain through his gritted teeth.

  A few minutes later there’s a thumping on the stairs above them, just as Pepper sits back. “There, we’re all done. We just have to leave it a couple of minutes to air dry and then we can bandage it back up again but I’ll use gauze this time. It’ll breathe easier.”

“Thank you, Pep,” Peter sighs, more frustrated with himself than anything but she just shakes her head.

“It’s nothing. We can’t be perfect all the time.”

Peter scoffs humorlessly. He’s perfect approximately none of the time.

The thumping sound stops and now there’s footsteps running down the hallway. Pepper gives him a small smile. “Looks like we’re just in time as well.”

“Peter! Daddy says it’s time for bed so I wanna say goodnight,” Morgan exclaims, bursting into the room just at the same time as Tony, a few paces behind her, lets out a slightly suffering sigh.

“You need to slow down on the stairs, Morgan. Mom and I keep telling you. You'll fall down them one day.”

Morgan doesn’t even turn around to grace him with a response, all her attention focused on Peter. “I’ll do the stairs super slowly once I’ve given Peter all his goodnight kisses!”

She wastes no time in reaching up on her tiptoes to capture Peter’s face between both her much smaller hands and press six kisses all over his forehead, nose, cheek and jaw.

“Six magic kisses to make it all better! Six is my lucky number,” she explains, before adding, “because I’m six years old now,” in the same proud way she’s been doing since her birthday a few weeks ago. As if Peter could ever forget. He spent the day letting himself be showered in confetti and his face assaulted with face-paint by the gaggle of Morgan’s tiny friends that were running around the garden, cake induced sugar-rush in full swing.

“I feel so much better,” Peter says, mustering up as much energy as he can to sound enthusiastic. It’s worth it for the beaming grin that Morgan gives him.

“Love you, Petey.”

“Love you too, bug,” Peter murmurs into her hair. It’s a little damp and it smells of her strawberry shampoo.

Tony’s standing in the doorway watching the scene with an unreadable expression on his face. He won’t look Peter in the eyes. “You feeling any better?” he asks plainly as Morgan pulls away and reaches up to give Pepper her goodnight kiss as well.

Peter’s not sure. He still feels kind of dizzy and a little bit out of it, but the antiseptic cream has soothed some of the hot pain that had been radiating from his side so he guesses that’s a good thing. In the end, he just raises his shoulders a little in a shrug.

Tony nods in response to this and opens his mouth as if he wants to say something else before Morgan is springing out of Pepper’s arms and back over to Tony, latching her hand inside his.

He closes his mouth again, words left unsaid.

They leave the room and the bathroom sinks back into a silence that’s more uncomfortable this time, as if Pepper doesn’t know quite what to say to make up for Tony’s clear cool demeanour.

“Why don’t you head upstairs and get into bed, honey? I’ll bring you up a glass of water and some fever reducers soon.”

---

Peter’s still awake half an hour later, staring at the ceiling, when there’s a knock on his door.

“Yeah, Pepper, I’m awake,” he calls out. He could really use those fever reducers right about now because his body can’t seem to make up its damn mind. He keeps throwing his blankets off when he gets too hot and then having to endure the searing pain when he gets too cold a few minutes later and he has to lean down to pick them up off the floor.

The door cracks open.

“Not Pepper,” a voice says. Peter looks up and - oh, okay, it’s Tony. He steps in the door. “She did ask me to bring you these though.” He raises the glass of water he has in one hand and an assortment of colourful pills in the other up slightly. “I’ve got fever-reducers and some of your pain killers. I spoke to Bruce before and he recommended these. He’s sending up a course of antibiotics to start you on tomorrow as well.”

Peter nods slightly listlessly against his pillow, trying to process the information through his fever-addled brain.

“Okay. Thanks,” Peter says eventually. He’s not sure what else to say. Is he meant to apologize? He doesn’t think he wants to. He’s not in the wrong, he had to do something.

“No problem.”

Tony sets down the glass of water on the nightstand, and Peter reaches out to grab it, downing a few gulps and swallowing the pills that Tony had set down next to it at the same time.

“You need anything else?” Tony asks.

Peter shakes his head. “No, I’m good, thank you.”

“Have a good sleep then,” Tony says, turning to leave the room. The unsteady waves of anxiety that have been sitting at the pit of his stomach suddenly rear up as he sees Tony’s hand hovering over the door handle.

“W-Wait, no, Tony?” Tony glances back and he meets Peter’s eyes properly for the first time. “Are you, um, are you mad at me?”

Peter hates the way his voice sounds small, childish, unsure.

Tony's silent for a few moments. 

“I don’t know, Peter. I don’t think mad is quite the right word. But we had an agreement, an agreement that was solely to keep you safe." Tony sighs. "It would make me feel a lot better to know I could trust you to stick to your word."

Only ten minutes ago, Peter had been dramatically musing what could possibly be more painful than the throbbing in his side. He knows now. Tony’s words. Tony’s words are more painful.

Peter doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how.

Tony leaves the room.

---

“I’m just about to crawl into bed, you need anything?”

Peter turns his head against his pillow to see Pepper at his door about an hour later. He shakes his head, but she crosses the room anyway and lays a hand on his shoulder.

Peter sort of feels like he shouldn’t, that he doesn’t deserve it, but he can’t help leaning into the way her palm cups his forehead gently before she leans down to press her lips to the same spot.

He looks up at her, and he knows defeat is probably shining in his eyes.

“S’Tony really mad at me?” he asks quietly.

Pepper gives him a sympathetic smile. “You know how he is,” she murmurs, “he can’t do the whole superhero thing himself now, so watching you out there getting hurt when he can’t protect you is hard. He wants to keep you safe. That’s all it is.”

Peter finds this kind of hard to believe but he doesn’t ask any more questions. Pepper squeezes his shoulder and wishes him a good sleep before ducking out of the room, leaving him alone once again.

---

Peter’s freezing, icy water surrounding him.

It’s filling his throat.

He doesn’t know where he is, the stormy waters that surge around him have long since risen up over the tops of buildings, only the roofs visible. 

He kicks out desperately to try and reach one of them for a moment of respite but just keeping his head above the water drains all the energy from him. He has to find a vantage point, he has to find Tony, find May. They were just here, they all were. Pepper, Morgan, Happy, Tony, May. They were just here. Where are they?

A shape forms in front of his eyes, flailing arms, a body and a head appearing out of the water.

Its arm reaches down for him and Peter turns, wants to run, willing his weak and shivering legs to carry him but he’s still surrounded by water, still drowning, and he can’t push hard enough-

He’s knocked down.

His head is submerged, water rushing over the top of his head, filling his nose. He tries to push to the surface, to gasp, but water just rushes down his throat.

“Peter!”

Peter hears the scream before the elemental, the Hydro-Man, knocks him back down and the screams become garbled background noise to the water gushing past his ears.

He kicks to the surface again and swallows down a huge lungful of oxygen.

“-eter! Over here!”

Peter turns his head frantically, battling the waves to try and search all around him. Where are they? They have to be-

There!

Happy, May and Pepper are huddled on a rooftop not far away. The water’s rising up towards them quickly. The Hydro-Man turns as he hears them yell and he’s heading towards them. Peter barely has time to yell out before the creature is bringing its force down onto the roof.

The roof crumbles into the stormy waters. Pepper, May and Happy disappear with it.

“May!” Peter hears himself scream. “Pe-” he coughs violently, water clogging his airways, “P’pper! Happy!”

They’re gone though. Swallowed up by the water.

“Kid!

That’s Tony’s voice. Peter has to get to him. He can’t lose everyone he loves. He won’t survive it.

Tony’s on another rooftop, feet slipping over the shingled roof. One hand is clinging to what looks like a piece of wrought iron fence while Morgan is wrapped in his other.

Peter swims and swims and swims, never daring to take his eyes off them even as the water stings his eyes, splashing up into them as he tries to keep them open.

He grasps onto what he thinks might be a bit of the roofs guttering, only feet away from Tony and Morgan now. He pants, chest burning-

The water is rising up around them, trying to drag Peter away. He clings on tighter.

“Tony, T-Tony, I don’t know what to do,” Peter wheezes.

The water level reaches the roof, the singles disappearing underneath a dangerous sea of blue.

Tony slips a little. A scream catches in Peter’s throat and he shoots out a hand to try to grab him.

“Take Morgan,” Tony’s saying desperately, pulling his own hand away from Peter’s and motioning hurriedly for him to take Morgan’s.

“Ton-” Peter starts, Morgan’s wrist wrapped in his precariously slippery grip.

The Hydro-Man raises his aquatic fist again. He brings it down, and the force from it knocks Morgan’s hand from Peter’s own. He fumbles, opens his mouth to yell her name-

When the water calms again, she’s nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Beck’s there. On the rooftop in front of him, having absolutely no trouble whatsoever weathering the stormy waters around him. There’s a sick smirk on his face.

He flickers for a split second, and a cluster of drones appear in his place before he’s back, reaching, always reaching, leering as he does, arm closing around Peter’s throat and-

Peter lurches awake, pathetic whimper choked in the back of his throat.

Beck’s here. Tony and Morgan, Pepper and May and Happy. Everyone is gone. He’s on dry land again. The water has retreated and they’re still gone, washed out far away. Nowhere to be seen. Nowhere to be found.

Dry land. He’s not drowning. His feet are brushing against something solid. He chokes down a gasp and his hands shoot out to find the crumpled cotton of his bedsheets swimming around him. He grasps at them with shaking hands. They’re dry, mostly save for the clammy feeling of his own sweat that he can feel seeping into them. He’s not underwater.

He’s… he’s in bed?

He lets himself take in his surroundings properly this time. He dares to open his eyes for longer than a few seconds now that he’s sure he’s not going to be snatched away by the tide, even though he’s still shivering, can still feel the icy water lapping at his skin.

He counts five things he can see, a technique Tony has always encouraged him to do to ground himself after nightmares throw him back to a hellscape of places and memories he would rather never experience again.

The curtains.

His backpack shoved into the corner of the room.

The empty glass of water on the nightstand.

The Lego set sitting on his desk that he and Morgan were planning on building this weekend.

The bedside light. It casts a soft glow around him. It’s warm, so far away from the cold blue he’s been submerged in that Peter closes his eyes for a second again, lets the golden light wash behind his eyelids so that’s all he can see.

His head is still muddling all his thoughts into a panicked mess. All he can hear is the echoes of terrified screams in his ears. The screams of the people he loves that he couldn’t save, that he let fall to their death in the arms of the elementals, of the Hydro-Man, of Quentin Beck.

So much for grounding. He can’t breathe again.

It’s not real. They’re safe. It’s not real.

The elementals are illusions. The elementals aren’t real.

It was just a dream. The dream wasn’t real.

Beck is dead. Everyone you love is okay.

It’s not real.

Peter sucks in a few deep steadying breaths to appease his quivering lungs and burrows back under his comforter to try and find some source of comfort.

Then he sees it out of the corner of his eye.

At first, it’s just the flickering of a grey storm circling in the corner of his room underneath the window. Lightning flashes from within it and Peter swears when it does, he can see a face within the darkened swirling clouds. It reaches for him, and god, it has arms now as well, just like Peter’s dream, just like the elemental in London had. Peter flinches back and-

It disappears.

It’s like it was never there in the first place. Peter dares to blink a few times and drones take its place, hovering menacingly.

Someone has to be controlling them. Peter’s eyes dart around, searching and searching, not sure exactly what he’s looking for but then finding it anyway when he lands on Beck standing at the foot of his bed, only a few feet away.

Fear freezes like ice in his chest.

They’re here. In his room. The drones, the elementals, Beck. He could get to Morgan, and Pepper and Tony. He could hurt them.

Peter shudders. It can’t be real. It can’t be. Beck is dead.

But he’s here. In Peter’s room.

Peter forces himself to close his eyes. He can feel his entire body trembling with tightly-wound shivers. He’s not sure whether it’s from the cold or the fear anymore. He closes his eyes for a long moment and when he re-opens them, Beck isn’t there. The room is empty.

But there’s a flash to his right and he jerks his head around just in time to see fiery orange molten lava creeping through the cracks in the floorboards. It rises and rises, slowly forming into a threateningly recognisable figure as Peter’s rapidly beating heart crawls further up his throat.

Peter was stupid to think he could ever be rid of Beck. He’s still here, he’s still controlling everything and Peter doesn’t want to be a pawn in one of his games anymore.

He wants what he couldn’t have the first time.

He wants Tony.

Peter tries to swing his legs over the edge of the bed but he can’t quite get them to cooperate. He’s tangled in the mess of his sheets, and he kicks out against them, panic still coursing through his veins. No, no, no. Get me out of here. I can’t do this. Not again. Tony. Tony.

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He wants to call for Tony. He needs help, but he’s too choked with terror.

Tony.

Need to get to Tony.

With one last fumbled kick of his leg, Peter throws himself from the bed, almost managing to catch himself but his limbs collapse beneath him, knees hitting the ground with a lump. Lava is still rising from the floor, and it towers over Peter now when he’s this low, taking on a burning figure of destruction.

Peter manages to make it to his feet, wrapping his hands around his nightstand to pull himself up. His legs feel weak beneath him, barely holding his weight. He knows he can’t afford to fall, not again, not when he has to get out of here, has to find Tony.

He fumbles a hand out until he finds the wall to his right, and he uses it to keep himself upright.

The hallway is darker than his bedroom once he throws the door open, but he lurches out and pulls the door hurriedly closed again behind him as if that will keep the monsters contained. As if a closed-door has ever stopped Beck.

He can’t see where he’s going. Everything is blurry. He wants Tony. Tony’s room is at the end of the hall, next to the landing at the top of the stairs. He knows this.

He just needs to get there.

Peter can’t remember the hallway being this long. Has it always been this long? His legs shudder and nearly give way as he nears the stairs, but he just shoots out to grab at the wall to steady himself again.

He’s so close.

He makes the last few steps and closes his hand around the door handle. Usually, if he was in a sane state of mind, not riddled with a high-grade fever and the claws of his trauma that have latched on and refused to let him go, he would be far more apprehensive about entering Tony and Pepper’s bedroom in the middle of the night for comfort. He’s basically an adult. He shouldn’t need it.

But right now he does. He needs Tony more than anything.

But when he yanks the door open and stands in the doorway, Tony isn’t there. His side of the bed is completely empty, still made up.

Pepper’s there though, and she stirs at the intrusion. She sits up and looks blearily towards the door. “Peter? S’that you?”

“T-T’ny? I need, I, um, I just - Tony,” Peter stutters out, eyes wide and pleading.

“Honey, take a breath. Is everything okay?”

“Tony,” Peter repeats again. It’s clearer this time, his desperation ringing clear.

“He’s downstairs,” she tells him, voice worn with sleep. “I can help you down there if you want?”

Peter shakes his head in the darkness. He doesn't want to be a bother. He’s already been a bother. He’s woken Pepper up. He didn’t mean to. He just needs Tony.

“No, it’s o-okay. Thank you,” Peter whispers.

Peter’s bedroom door is still closed at the end of the hallway when he retreats from Pepper’s room, but he still doesn’t feel safe.

Beck and his monsters could be lurking anywhere.

 The stairs are his next big challenge, and logically Peter should probably be more worried about the challenge of navigating them when his entire body feels like it’s barely functioning and he’s in danger of collapsing at any second. He’s just focused on getting to the bottom of them though and he grips the railing for dear life as he makes his way down, barely registering the wood splintering a little beneath his grip.

He stumbles down the last few, clumsy footsteps thudding against the rug at the bottom of the landing.

He’s downstairs.

Tony. Where’s Tony?

“Peter?”

That’s his voice. Peter tries to follow it, unfocused eyes searching until he lands on the dim light of the TV. Tony’s sitting in front of it on the couch and Peter’s lungs feel like they almost collapse under the weight of his own sigh of relief.

“Hey, Peter. Kid? What’s going on?”

Peter realises he’s just standing there, swaying and staring like an idiot. He takes a few tentative steps forward, and then he’s moving and he can’t stop himself.

He’s only a few steps away from Tony when he all but collapses, the tension in his legs from the fear and trembling finally flooding out and it’s like his strings have been cut.

“Whoa, whoa, steady on there, Bambi,” Tony rushes out, both arms wrapped around Peter to stop him from falling. He pulls him closer to him to steady him and gets him settled in the spot next to him on the couch. This is nice. Tony feels strong and steady when Peter is sure that he’s neither of those things right now.

“We’re not exactly feeling very graceful tonight, are we?” Peter hears Tony muse. He’s only half paying attention, eyes locked on the singular one of Beck’s drones he can see suspended in the corner of the room.

He was right. Of course a closed bedroom door was never going to hold back Beck and his horrors.

He shoves himself closer to Tony’s side, a whine escaping from the back of his throat before he can help it.

“Hey, no, that’s okay,” Tony placates, “that’s what I’m here for.”

Peter shakes his head. No, no. That’s not what he’s worried about. Beck followed him, he followed him downstairs and Peter led him straight to Tony.

Peter flinches as more drones appear overhead. Beck must be controlling them, making them disappear and appear at will to mess with him. They circle above him and Tony, green lights glowing eerily.

“No, no, no,” Peter mumbles, eyes fixated on the drones above them. He can feel himself shaking again.

Tony’s eyes follow his up towards the ceiling.

“Peter?”

“Make it stop, p-please. Make them go away.”

“Make what stop? I can’t help unless you talk to me,” Tony says gently. He draws his eyes back down to focus on Peter’s face, the way his eyes are darting around in an almost crazy fashion.

“I keep seeing things. I-I don’t know if they’re real. Beck’s here, he’s everywhere. He’s gonna hurt you, he’s gonna hurt e-everyone, I-”

Tony’s face softens in a sort of understanding, and Peter doesn’t get it. How is he not scared right now? Can he not see what’s going on right in front of him?

“Pete. There’s nothing there, I promise.” Oh. “It’s just your fever messing with you, buddy, you're hallucinating. You’re safe - nothing’s gonna get you here.”

It’s not real? Peter tries to remember the mantra he’d been repeating to himself earlier in his bedroom.

It’s not real. It’s not real.

Beck is dead. Everyone you love is okay.

It’s not real.

“How do we know?” Peter asks, voice small. “He’s clever, he could hide them, he could hide them from you if he wanted, how do we-”

A sudden thought catches Peter off-guard and he drops off mid-sentence. Tony’s voice doesn’t sound angry anymore. He was so angry with Peter before, disappointment dripping from every word he spoke.

He doesn’t sound like that anymore.

Peter hasn’t done anything to redeem himself, anything to make Tony forgive him.

What if this isn’t his Tony?

His breathing catches and he stares up at Tony - illusion Tony? - with wide eyes.

“You’re not real,” he murmurs. He shakes himself a little and it makes him dizzy again. He can’t believe he fell for it. “You’re not real. The real Tony is angry with me. This isn’t… you’re not - not him. You can’t fool me, Beck.”

Peter only has a short second to see the way Tony’s face falls with anguish before he’s being tugged towards whichever Tony is sitting in front of him.

Real or not, he feels real enough as he threads a hand through Peter's hair. Peter should pull away, shouldn’t let himself fall for this so badly, but he can’t help it. It even smells like Tony, like home, and he buries his face into the gap between his shoulder and neck, lets himself hide there.

Darkness envelopes him, and even though it’s not real, he feels safer, Tony’s arm curled protectively around him.

Then Tony starts speaking.

“God, kid.” His voice sounds so distraught. “I’m right here. I’m real. There’s no room on the planet for more than one Tony Stark, you know that. You got the real deal right here.” He pauses. His fingers carry on running through Peter’s hair. It feels so familiar. “I wasn’t angry with you, you know. I don’t know what it was. I was scared, probably. But it doesn’t matter how I was feeling, it never does and it never will when it comes to you. If you need me, that’s more important than anything.”

Peter tries to pull away, to look up at Tony, to meet his eyes. He wants to see if he can let himself believe that this is real but Beck still lurks in the corner of his mind. Tony must see the fear still lingering on his face because he tucks him back closer to him.

“Keep your eyes closed, okay? We’re just gonna relax for a bit, give your fever a chance to stop kicking everything into overdrive. You’ll feel better in a minute,” Tony promises, and Peter so badly wants to believe him, wants to believe that it is him.

The room is quiet for a few minutes. The television is still murmuring in the background. Anxiety thrums steadily through him until Tony opens his mouth to start speaking. 

“Remember when we did the road trip to Massachusetts to pick up my stuff from that MIT alumni exhibition? I could have had it delivered, you kept telling me that, but I kinda wanted to show the campus off to you, see what you thought. I mean, after everything, you staying closer to home doesn't sound half as bad as I thought it would, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Tony chuckles. It reverberates in his chest and Peter feels it against his ear. He knows what Tony's doing. He's reminding him who they are.

Peter and Tony.

Not illusions. Both real, both alive. Warmth blossoms in his chest and banishes some of his nerves.

He continues. “And then the car broke down on the side of I-84 on the way back? The tow truck took hours and you told me it was too dramatic to ask Bruce to come down with a quinjet so you dragged me down to that McDonald’s because you wanted me to try that god-awful thing you do where you dip your fries in your milkshake. I still don’t understand how you like that.”

Peter makes a slightly indignant noise.

He’s breathing easier now, the illusions, his hallucinations - whatever they were - slowly loosening their hold on him. Peter focuses in on Tony’s heartbeat. It sounds like the one he knows so well.

“Y’know, I still think about the first convention Bruce and I took you too, as well. We worked on that biomechanics paper and I thought you were gonna vomit on my shoes before we went out to present it but turns out Bruce was the front contender for that one right before we got on stage. He made it to the trash can. Thank god for that, those shoes cost-”

“I don’t wanna know how much the shoes were, Tony,” Peter mumbles in protest. Everything Tony wears - or, maybe, used to wear - probably cost more than months rent for his and May’s old apartment.

“Okay, yeah, sure, we can do that. I just need you to know that they did not deserve to be vomited on.”

Peter chances taking a glance out of one eye. The drone has disappeared from the corner, and a little bit of the last tension he’s been holding onto dissipates. Tony carries on anyway, voice calm and soothing.

“What about the first time you and Morgan did me that joint Fathers Day present? I dunno if I ever told you how much I love that. I still have it hanging on the wall in my office. It really should be out here in the living room somewhere, pride and joy and all that, but Pep reckoned the colours would clash with her cushions. We’ll blame Morgan for that though, between us, we all know she can get a little bit over-enthusiastic with the paints.”

“You kept that?”

“Course I did. One of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.”

“But it’s awful.”

Peter feels Tony shrug, his head shifting a little where it’s resting with the movement of his shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter," he says, laughter in his voice. He doesn't bother denying Peter's statement because it really is true. It is awful, splotches of paint in mismatched colours, something that's maybe meant to be a stick-figure family in the foreground. It's chaotic. That doesn't mean Tony doesn't absolutely love it.

"It's still the best,” he says, not a shred of doubt in his voice as he sits up slightly. Peter frowns at the movement but lets Tony maneuver him a little so he’s resting against Tony’s side rather than hidden in his neck. “I want you to open your eyes properly for a minute now, bud. Anything there?”

Peter does. He tentatively casts his eyes around the room, but there’s no one there apart from him and Tony.

“No. No, it’s just us,” Peter says, tone awash with relief and tiredness.

Beck isn’t here. This is all real. Tony’s here. Tony’s real.

He lets himself go lax. “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony just waves off his thanks with a lazy hand movement. The man kicks his legs up onto the coffee table and lets his head fall to the side, cheek resting against Peter’s curls.

It’s nice, Peter thinks. The feeling of Tony curling around him, protecting him from the demons that he knows are just in his head now, but are still his demons nonetheless.

  “Any idea why Europe’s in your head again all of a sudden, buddy?” Tony asks breaking their quiet after a while. “It hasn’t been this bad in a few weeks.”

Peter considers whether he really wants to divulge and bother getting into it. He doesn’t want to bother Tony with everything, but maybe he owes it to him to let him know what’s going on after he’s just spent fifteen minutes talking him down from whatever the hell his fever was putting into his mind. The rational part of his brain tells him he doesn’t owe Tony anything. Tony would hate to know that Peter ever thought like that, even for a second.

He wants to tell Tony though.

Now that Beck and the drones and everything has vanished from where they were lingering in the corners of the house, taunting him, this feels like their familiar brand of normal.

He’s pressed to Tony’s side on the couch, there’s shitty late-night TV playing in the background and one of them is tangled up in their trauma. That’s Peter, tonight. He should let Tony play his part, help him sort through the mess and untangle whatever’s in his head. Peter would want Tony to let him do the same.

“I had a nightmare,” Peter admits, finally.

“You wanna tell me what it was about?”

“Yeah.” Peter stays silent for a few moments and Tony lets him. He doesn't push, just wraps his arm more securely around Peter and rubs a thumb over his shoulder absent-mindedly. He’s still way too hot even through the fabric of his pyjama shirt.

“I, uh, I couldn’t save you guys,” Peter offers up eventually. “You, n’ Morgan and May and everyone. There was all the water, like in Venice and you all needed me and I couldn’t help any of you. I… Morgan was the last to go. I tried to save, um, get to you but you told me to help Morgan instead and then you were gone and I tried, I did, I p-promise but there was too much water and she fell and I couldn’t… she didn’t… she was just gone. Everyone was gone.”

Tony sucks in a quiet breath. Peter watches him carefully. He doesn’t want him to be disappointed. It was just a dream but he didn’t mean to not save Morgan. He’s always trying to look out for Morgan - even when it results in a stab wound in his side.

“M’sorry, I tried. I just, I thought I did a good job the other day, with the guys n’ the bombs, but… but I couldn’t save her now and I think I’m still just so worried about that, that I’m-”

Tony holds up one hand to halt him and Peter bites down on his bottom lip nervously. He knows he's let his fever-addled mind and desperate need for Tony to not be disappointed with him get away from him. He wonders whether he’s disclosed too much.

“Peter,” Tony says carefully, “we’re being honest with each other right now, right?”

“Uh, yeah?” Peter says, but that sounds a bit too unsure so he tries again. “Yeah, yes, definitely.”

“Then I need you to tell me this, what are you talking about? Guys with bombs?”

Peter swallows.

“I promise I didn’t mean to go out as Spider-Man, I really didn't, but I just overheard this conversation the other night and these guys sounded kinda sketchy so I put one of those trackers you gave me on one of their cars without them noticing and I went out there later that night.”

“Okay…” Tony says. He sounds unsure as to where this is going but he nods as a signal for Peter to keep going anyway.

“They were, uh… they had this warehouse, super typical I know, nothing we haven’t seen before. But there were guns n' bombs, all that sorta stuff, loads of it. I was going to leave, I swear, I was just gonna call the police but then I heard them talking. They were going to - they were, um, gonna use them to target schools so I had to do something. I couldn't... couldn't not."

“They were going to use them in schools? To try and take out school kids?” Tony asks slowly. Peter looks up at him and he considers the words for a second before he nods his head.

“Elementary schools.”

“Pardon?”

“Elementary schools,” Peter repeats. “That’s what they were saying. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t just not do anything because I was there, and what if they got away and if anything ever happened, to anyone, to Morgan… I would never forgive myself, Tony. Never.”

This seems to shock Tony into complete and utter silence. His jaw goes slightly slack and if this was any other night, any other scenario, Peter might be pleased with himself for being able to invoke this sort of reaction out of Tony.

“You got the guys?” he asks eventually.

“Yeah. Webbed ‘em up - that's when one of the guys got me with a knife. The police swept the place out, got all the weapons.”

“Good. Good.”

“I really was going to try and stick to this whole no Spider-Man thing, I promise, it’s just-”

Tony holds up a hand. 

"No. No," he says, taking a steadying breath. "I want you to be able to admit when you're wrong and that means I have to set a good example, right? I was probably too rash. I should have heard you out. It sounds like you did good, kid.”

“So we’re okay?” Peter asks tentatively.

“Of course we’re okay, bud. We’re always okay, even when I throw a bit of a strop. If you ever need anything, I don’t want you to ever not come to me about it. I just, seeing you hurt is a little harder now that I'm like this," he says, raising his prosthetic arm. "And now that we're all, uh, everything is like this..." he finishes, gesturing around the cabin, Peter’s shoes and textbooks strewn around, Morgan’s toys covering the rug. Now that we're a family, is what Peter thinks he's trying to say. 

“It’s okay,” Peter says. He knows what Tony is trying to say. He remembers Pepper’s words earlier. He kind of gets it, in a weird way. He always used to hate when Tony used to jet off on missions he was barred from due to inexperience. “I know you worry.”

“Who told you that?” Tony says with a gentle scoff.

“Pepper.”

“Of course she did. That woman knows too much.” There’s a mock scowl on his face and Peter is relieved to have some sort of lightness injected back into the conversation.

They can talk everything out once they’ve both gotten some sleep. Peter knows Tony. He knows that he’ll probably spend hours on the phone to the NYPD tomorrow to make sure that they got every single explosive and firearm out of that warehouse.

He’ll then probably spend multiple more hours on the phone to Morgan’s elementary school trying to convince them to up their security or at least let him donate the equipment.

That sounds like exhausting work for a worried father. They both need rest.

“You making yourself comfy here then?” Tony asks as Peter buries himself further into the couch cushions, head still resting on Tony’s shoulder, the spot he fully intends to keep it in.

“Kinda planning on it. S’that okay?”

“Course. Mind if I join you?’

He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. Peter’s trapped Tony’s arm between him and the couch, and he hopes he doesn’t try to tug it away. He likes the little bit of extra comfort.

“You were here first.”

“Touché.”

Tony turns the television on mute but doesn’t turn it off. Peter appreciates the light that the TV exudes into the room, and he knows Tony probably did it on purpose.

As soon as Peter lets his eyes close, drowsiness begins to ebb its way in. He’s content to let himself fall completely into it this time. He’s safe and warm. He’s real. This is real. They’re okay.

“Pete?”

“Mm?”

“I don't know if I say it enough, but I'm proud of you.”

---

Peter’s muscles are stiff when he wakes up, a drowsy yawn escaping his mouth without warning. He’s shifted in the night, somehow ended up with his head shoved up against the side of Tony’s leg. There’s a throw blanket over him that he doesn’t remember being there before.

Tony shifts beside him.

“What’re you doin’ awake, Pete?”

“Dunno,” he mumbles back dopily.

“If you want any more sleep, I’d get it now. The little monster’ll be up soon.”

Peter knows he’s right judging by the gentle morning light starting to creep in through the curtains.

“M’kay. You too.”

Tony threads a few lazy fingers through his hair in response and he closes his eyes.

They both drift back off.

[winchesterbrotherstan]

SPN- Hunted (2.10)

Pairing: Olive Winchester (sister OC)

Summary: After Dean spills the truth about their father’s last moments, Sam runs off, taking Olive with him. Dean goes after his baby siblings, and they’re targeted by an unwelcome familiar face.

Warnings: cursing, blood, knives, guns, uhh, like mention of a dead cat? sam lowkey kidnaps olive, the usual with the rest you know

Word Count: 5147

“Dean, what did Dad tell you?” I stood up straight, staring at him with wide eyes.

“He said that he wanted me to watch out for you, Sam. To take care of you.”

Sam huffed, and I tilted my head. “What?”

“He told you that a million times, Dean.”

“No.” Dean shook his head. “This time was different. He said that I had to save you.”

“Save me from what?” Sam repeated.

“He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered. And that if i couldn’t, I’d…” Dean looked away, tears in his eyes.

“That you’d what, De?” My chest tightened.

“That I’d have to kill him!”

My heart began to pound, and I stumbled backward, sitting down on the railing. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling my eyes begin to sting. It didn’t sound too far off for Dad, but the fact that Dean had kept it hidden for so long felt like a knife to the back.

“He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy.”

“Kill me?” Sam took a step back. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know.” Dean pushed out.

“I mean, he must’ve had some kind of reason for saying it, right?” Sam huffed.

“Oh, god.” I mumbled, wiping the tears from my eyes.

He knew something, but whatever the secret was died with him.

“Did he know the demon’s plans for me? Am I supposed to go Darkside or something? What else did he say, Dean?” Sam stepped forward.

“Nothing. That’s it. I swear.” Dean sniffled.

“Why the hell would he say that, Dean?” I sobbed.

“I don’t know!”

“How could you not have told me this?”

“Because it was Dad! He begged me not to!”

“Who cares, Dean? Take some responsibility for yourself! You had no right to keep this from me!” Sam spat.

“You think I wanted to? Huh? I wish to god he’d never opened his mouth! Then I wouldn’t have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day!”

“It doesn’t make sense. I’m Okami, why didn’t he tell you to kill me, too?”

“Olive, I don’t know.”

Sam turned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve just gotta figure out what’s going on, then. Figure out what the hell all this means.”

“We do?” Dean tilted his head. “I’ve been thinking about this. I think we should just lay low. You know? At least for a while. It would be safer. And this way we can make sure-”

“What? That I don’t turn evil? That I don’t turn into some kind of killer?” Sam growled.

“Hey, he never said that.” I stepped in.

“Well fuck, if you two aren’t careful, you will have to waste me one day.”

“I never said that!” Dean shouted.

“Jesus fucking Christ, boys!” I snapped.

They both glared at me, then at each other.

“This is getting out of hand. Both of you. Relax.”

“Look, Sam. You’re immune to some weird ass demon virus, and I don’t even know what the hell anymore. You’re pissed at me, I get it. That’s fine. I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move. Okay?”

“Forget it.” Sam scoffed, turning away once more.

“Sammy.” I called.

“Please, man. Hey, hey, please. Please.” Dean begged.

“I’m going-”

“Sam! Give us some time to think. Please.” I caught his arm.

“We’re begging you. Please.”

Sam sighed and gave us a reluctant nod.

                                                            ***

“Bug.” Sam shook me softly.

I groaned and rolled onto my side. “What?”

“Hey. Come on, we’ve gotta move.”

I sat up with a huff. “Why?”

“We’ll explain later. Come on, I packed all your stuff. Dean’s waiting in the car.”

I rubbed my eyes and stumbled out of bed. Sam picked me up and held me against his hip. I snuggled my head into the crook of his neck and let myself fall back asleep.

                                                            ***

I yawned and sat up. I rubbed my eyes and looked over. Sam was in the driver’s seat, staring at me with a soft smile.

“What the fuck?”

“Hey, bug.”

“Where the fuck are we? This isn’t Baby. Where’s Jinx?” I sat up straight and backed away from Sam. “Where’s Dean?”

“Look-”

“Sam, what the fuck is going on?”

“We’re at the Roadhouse.”

I looked over to see that we were, indeed, in the parking lot of the shoddy building. I scowled as I turned back to Sam.

“You fucking lied to me.” I struggled with the car door.

“Ollie-”

“Leave me the fuck alone.” I hissed, finally stumbling out of the unfamiliar black car.

“Olive-”

“Christo.”

Sam only stared with a bitchface. I whimpered and crossed my arms over my chest as he began to walk toward the door.

“Why?”

“Because we need to figure out what’s happening!”

“Not without Dean!” I scoffed as we trailed into the Roadhouse.

“Sam. Olive.”

“Hey, Ellen.” Sam gave her a sheepish smile. “You don’t seem that surprised to see us.”

“Well…” Ellen hummed. “Dean’s been calling. He’s worried sick, running around the country looking for you two.

Sam huffed as we dropped onto the stools. “Yeah, I figured he might.”

Ellen eyed me. “I take it this wasn’t planned on your half.”

I looked up at her with a scowl. “I was kidnapped.”

“Oh, honey.”

“I want Dean.” I hissed at Sam.

“What’s going on between your boys?”

“Dean made a mistake and now Sam is being-”

“How’s Jo?” Sam cut me off.

Ellen sighed. “I don’t really know.”

Sam and I glanced at each other, and I immediately remembered that I was upset with him. I turned back to Ellen.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, after she worked that job with you kids, she decided she wanted to keep on hunting. I said ‘not under my roof’ and she said ‘fine’. I don’t know where she is now.”

“So we’re probably the last people you wanna see right now.” Sam sighed.

Ellen gave a chuckle. “Don’t get me wrong, I wish I could blame you kids. It’d be easier. Truth is, it’s not your fault. None of it is. I want you to know that I forgave your Daddy a long time ago for what happened to my Bill… I just don’t think he ever forgave himself.”

Sam shifted, uncomfortable. “What really… did happen?”

“Um, so… why did you guys come here?”

“I need help.”

“I’ll get Ash.” Ellen put the rag and cup down and disappeared into the back.

“Ollie, look-”

“Dude, you can do whatever you want, I don’t care where you go or why or when, but I’m staying here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m staying here until Dean comes to pick me up.” I turned my nose up the other way.

Sam sighed. “Fine.”

                                                            ***

I swung my legs and leaned forward as Ash came out of his back room. He flipped a piece of paper around in his hand and placed it on the bar in front of Sam.

“Done and done.”

“That was fast.” Sam snorted.

“Well, apparently, that’s my job. Make the monkey dance at the keyboard.”

I sighed and sunk further into my seat as Ellen shook her head. “Just tell us what you got, Ash.”

“Four folks fit the profile nationwide. Born in '83, mother died in a nursery fire, the whole shebang.”

“Four? That’s it?”

Ash nodded. “Sam Winchester from Lawrence, Kansas, Max Miller from Saginaw, Michigan, Andrew Gallagher from Guthrie, Oklahoma, and uh… one last name. Scott Carey.”

I sighed. “That’s the only one we haven’t met yet.”

“You got an address?” Sam turned to Ash.

“Kind of… the Arbor Hill Cemetery in Lafayette, Indiana. Plot 486.”

I closed my eyes as I repeated it to myself in my head.

“So he’s dead?” Sam sighed.

“Killed, about a month ago.”

“Killed?” Sam repeated. “How?”

“Stabbed. Parking lot. Fuzz don't have much, no suspects.”

“Alright. Thank you, guys.” Sam got up.

Ash slapped him on the back before snaking his beer.

“Where are you going?”

“Indiana.”

“Sam?” Ellen called.

He turned.

“You’re not taking Olive?”

He looked at me. I shook my head.

“I’ll wait for Dean.”

“I’ve gotta call him. I’ve gotta let him know where you are, Sam.”

Sam sighed. “Ellen. I’m trying to find answers about who I am. My brother means well, but he can’t protect me from that. Please.”

Ellen sighed and nodded reluctantly. Sam came back my way and held his arms open. I shuffled out of my seat and accepted the hug, leaning against him.

“I’m sorry, bug.”

I shook my head. “I’ll see you when we’re all together again. Be careful.”

“Always.”

                                                            ***

The phone rang from behind the bar, and I sighed. It was the fifth call in the last half hour. None of them had been Dean. I had little hope this one would be. I hadn’t memorized Dean’s latest phone number, and Sam had taken my phone with him. Ellen shot me a sympathetic smile as she picked the phone up and held it to her ear.  “Ellen speaking.” A beat. “Hold on, hold on, hold on. Sweetie! Hang on a second.”

She looked at me and nodded me over. “It’s Dean.”

I scrambled around to the other side of the bar and held the phone to my ear. “De?”

“Baby girl! Hey, baby. Hi, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’m okay. Look, De, Sammy’s in Indiana. Lafayette. Uh, Arbor Hill Cemetery. There’s someone else like him, but the kid’s dead.”

“Okay, listen, princess, I’m coming to get you. Okay?”

“No, De! Oklahoma to Indiana is a 12 hour drive. You don’t have time.”

“I’m coming to get you. Okay? Just be ready.”

I sighed. “Fine. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

                                                            ***

“Dean!” I squeaked as the Impala stopped on the side of the road.

“Beanie!” He jogged across the street and plucked me off my feet, swinging me around.

I snuggled into his grip, wrapping my arms and legs around him. He hooked me on his hip and walked us back into the Roadhouse. Jinx followed, tail wagging as she yapped.

“Dean.” Ellen smiled.

“Hi. Thanks for keeping my kid safe.” He gave me an extra squeeze.

“De, you’ve been driving for hours. Maybe we should find a place to stay the night?” I whispered.

“You guys are more than welcome to the beds out back if you’d like.”

Dean sighed. “Thanks, but I think we should keep moving.’’ He put me back on my feet and ruffled my head. “Ready to roll, kid?”

I snuggled back into his side and looked over at Ellen. “Ellen, Dean’ll take a beer if you don’t mind.”

She smiled. “Come sit.”

“But-”

“I’ll drive. You need a drink and a nap.” I grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

                                                            ***

“De, we’re here.” I put the car in park.

“Come on.” He grunted, climbing out of the car.

I followed, tossing him the keys as we looked at all the windows. A curtain fluttered in one, and I caught a glimpse of Sam.

“Oh, thank god you’re okay.” Dean mumbled to himself.

Sam moved, and a brown haired girl was standing in the room with him. I scoffed, and Dean grinned.

“Oh, he’s more than okay. Sam, you sly dog.”

Jinx let out a loud whine, and I felt an uneasy feeling grow in my chest. I looked around, confused.

“Ol?”

“Something’s wrong.” I hissed, feeling my fangs shift in my mouth.

“What do you mean?”

“Sam’s in danger. We’ve gotta move.” I looked both ways before starting across the street.

“Where are you going?”

“Just trust me.” I beckoned him to follow.

Glass shattered, and both our heads snapped around to see that the window of Sam’s room was gone.

“Shit!”

“Come on!”

More shots rang out, and Dean pushed ahead of me. He held a hand up for me to stay back as we reached the rooftop. He grumbled a curse to himself before going out into the open.

“Gordon!”

I peeked out to see Gordon with a sniper rifle. Dean kicked him, pinned him, then punched him repeatedly in the face.

“You do that to my brother, I’ll kill you!”

“Dean, wait!” Gordon struggled.

I watched in horror as he managed to grab the rifle. He slammed into Dean’s face twice. I ducked back onto the fire escape, panting. Gordon would kill me if I didn’t win the fight. But I didn’t want to leave Dean in his hands alone.

I took a deep breath and pushed Jinx down the stairs. She whined and I growled at her. She turned tail and ran. Sam would grab her. I heard a gun cock, and I forced my fangs back into my mouth. I put my hands up as I slowly popped into view.

“Huh.” Gordon clicked his tongue. “Nice surprise.”

“Why do you wanna kill Sam?”

Gordon’s only response was to stalk closer and bash the butt of his gun into my knee. I crumbled to the ground.

                                                            ***

“Hello?”

“Dean! Olive!”

“Sams.” I called through gritted teeth.

“We’ve been looking for you.”

“Yeah. Look, I’m in Indiana. Uh, Lafayette.”

“I know.” Dean glanced over at me.

“You do?”

“Yeah, dummy. I told him.”

“We just got here.”

“It’s a really funky town.” I grunted.

“You ditched us, Sammy.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. Look, right now there’s someone after me.”

“What? Who?” Dean feigned surprise.

“I don’t know, that’s what we need to find out. Where are you guys?”

“We’re staying at, uh…” Dean glared at Gordon.

Gordon pulled a gun and pressed it to my forehead. I clenched my jaw. My knee was throbbing, and I was starting to lose any feeling in the lower half of my leg. My kneecap was out of place, and there was a gash that was pumping blood.

“We’re at 5637 Monroe Street. Sams, why don’t you come to us? Since we have Jinx and all.” I added our last hint. “Oh! And can you bring my red shirt? I forgot it in the car.”

There was a pause, and I sighed. The situation was more than clear now.

“Yeah. Sure. I’ll be there soon. Love you guys. Be safe.”

“Always.”

“Love you too.”

Sam hung up the phone, and Gordon tossed it aside with a sickening grin. “Now, was that so hard?”

I let my head fall backward and toward Dean.

“Bite me.” He spat.

Gordon ignored him, turning to rummage through his bag. He began to pull out weapons. One by one, he laid them on the table next to him.

“So, Gordy. I know me and my siblings ain’t exactly your favorite people, but don’t you think this is a little extreme?” Dean asked, trying his best to inch closer to me.

“What, you think this is revenge?” Gordon sharpened the knife he had cut Sam with four months earlier.

“Well, we did leave you tied up in your own mess for three days.” He chuckled. “Which was awesome. Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.”

“Yeah.” Gordon hissed. “I was definitely planning on whooping your ass for that.”

Dean hummed.

“But that’s not what this is. This isn’t personal. I’m not a killer, Dean. I’m a hunter. And your little siblings are fair game.” He sheathed his knife.

Dean and I shared a look.

Oh, shit.

                                                            ***

“See, I was doing an exorcism down in Louisiana. Teenage girl. Seemed routine, some low-level demon. But between all the jabbering and the head-spinning, the fucking thing muttered something. About a war that’s coming. I don’t think it meant to, it just kind of slipped out.” Gordon shifted the weight of his rifle. “But it was too late. Caught my interest. And you can really make a demon talk, if you got the right tools.”

I scowled. “What about the girl it was possessing?”

“Oh,” Gordon shook his head, “she didn’t make it.”

Dean huffed. “Well, you’re a son of a bitch.”

Gordon stood straight and walked right toward us. I strained against the ropes, but I was getting worse by the minute. Gordon backhanded Dean, and I flinched at the sound of skin against skin.

“That’s my momma you’re talking about… anyway. This demon tells me there are soldiers to fight in this war. Humans, fighting on hell’s side. You believe that? I mean, pft, they’re psychics, so they’re not exactly human. But still! What kind of worthless scumbag have you got to be to turn against your own race?”

I glared as he swung the rifle around with each word.

“But you know the biggest kick in the ass? This demon said I knew one of them. Our very own Sammy Winchester.”

Dean snorted. “Oh, this is… this is an entire new level of moronic. Even for you.”

“Yeah?” Gordon got in our faces. “Come on, Dean. I know. About Sam’s visions. About Olive’s abilities. I know everything.”

“Really?” Dean laughed again. “Because a demon told you?”

“I’m sure it wasn’t lying.” I spat.

“Hey, look. I’m not some reckless yahoo, okay? I did my homework. Made damn sure both things were true. Look, you’ve got you Roadhouse connections, I’ve got mine. It’s how I found Sammy in the first place.” Gordon crossed back to the corner and sat down again. “About a month ago, I found another one of those freaks here in town. He could deep-fry a person just by touching them.”

“Yeah, did he kill anyone?” Dean taunted.

“Well, besides Mr. Tinkles the cat? No. But he was working up to it. They're all gonna be killers, Dean. We've got to take them all out. And that means Sammy too.” Gordon cocked the rifle.

“Do you really think Sam’s stupid enough to walk through that front door?”

“No.” Gordon chuckled. “I don’t. Especially since I’m sure you two found ways to warn him. Huh, you really think I’m that stupid?”

Dean and I both raised our eyebrows as we looked down. Gordon got up and began to pace.

“No. Sammy’s gonna scope the place first, see me covering the front door. So he’s gonna take the back. And when he does, he’ll hit the tripwire. Then…” He pulled a grenade from his bag. “Boom.”

“Sam’s not gonna fall for a fucking tripwire.”

“He’s not stupid.” I spat.

“Maybe you two are right. That’s why I’ll have a second one.”

There was a long pause. I shifted. If the gash in my knee didn’t kill me, Gordon most certainly would.

“Hey, look. I’m sorry, Dean. I wish I didn’t have to do this, I really do. But for what it’s worth, it’ll be quick. And after we’re done with Sam, we can let princess here run loose so that I can gun her down.”

                                                            ***

“He’s gonna kill me, De.” I whimpered.

“No.” Dean shook his head. “No, I won’t let him.”

Gordon came back into the room and straddled a chair, a foot away from us.

“Come on, man. I know Sam, okay? Better than anyone. He’s got more of a conscience than I do. I mean, the guy feels guilty surfing the internet for porn. And Olive?” Dean scoffed. “I mean, look at her. She’s just a kid. Hell, she needs to be snuggled to sleep.”

“Maybe you’re right. But one day they’ll be monsters.”

“How?” I snapped. “I get me. But how’s someone like Sam become a monster?”

“Beats me.” Gordon shrugged. “But he will.”

“No! You don’t know that.” Dean sneered. “Neither of them will.”

“I’m surprised at you, Dean. Getting all emotional. I’d heard you were more of a professional than this. Look, let’s say you were cruising around in that car of yours and, uh, you had little Hitler riding shotgun, right? Back when he was just some goofy, crappy artist. But if you knew what he would become. You’d take him out. No questions. Right?”

“That’s not Sam, you asshat.” I snarled.

“Yes it is. You just can’t see it yet. It’s his destiny. Look, I’m sympathetic. He’s your brother, you love the guy. This has gotta hurt like hell for you two.” Gordon pulled out two shreds of fabric and stalked toward us. “But here’s the thing.”

He gagged Dean, then tied the second piece around my mouth. I held back a choke as my fangs immediately sunk into the fabric.

“It would wreck him, but your dad? If it really came down to it, he would’ve had the stones to do the right thing here. You’re telling me you’re not the man he is?”

                                                            ***

The lock in the back door clicked, and I looked at Dean with wide eyes. My body was drained, and I had long since kicked into what Dean referred to as ‘monster mode’. My jaw was beginning to lock and I was on the verge of passing out, but knowing Sam was safe was my priority. 

“You hear him?” Gordon asked.

There was the creak of the door, and Sam’s heavy footsteps were audible.

“Here he comes.” Gordon grinned.

Dean grunted, and I worked my jaw harder, teeth ripping at the scarf bit by bit. Sam took another step. I tore the scarf in two.

“Sam!”

I screamed too late, and there was an explosion in the back room. Dean screamed, and I roared, tears welling in my eyes. Gordon didn’t look our way.

“Hold on. Not yet. Just wait and see.” He spoke calmly.

“Sammy!” I shouted again, but the second grenade went off anyways.

Dean began to choke, tears falling down his cheeks. I let my head fall forward. Blood mixed with spit began to drop down onto my lap. I whimpered.

“Sorry, Dean.”

Gordon held his rifle up as he sauntered out of the room. Dean began to sob, and I closed my eyes. Gordon’s footsteps were heavier than Sam’s, and I could think of nothing more than ripping his spinal cord out with my teeth.

There was the cocking of a gun, and a soft step. “Drop the gun.”

Sam.

I shot up, eyes wide. I looked at Dean, but he was still crying. He couldn’t hear Sam.

“Sams!”

“You shouldn’t take your shoes off around here.” Gordon warned. “You might get tetanus.”

“Put it down now!” Sam ordered.

“You wouldn’t shoot me, would you, Sammy? Because your brother and sister, they think you’re some kind of saint.”

“Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Sam hissed.

“See? That’s what I said.” Gordon whispered.

There was a grunt, followed by a series of punches. A wall crashed, and I knew by the thud that followed that Sam had just hit the ground. Dean struggled against his ropes, and I whimpered before tearing my own off. My wrists started to bleed right away, and I tumbled out of my seat.

Dean grunted, staring at me with wide eyes. I tried to get to my feet, but my leg gave out. Dean panted. I turned to sit and took a deep breath. I held my knee to my chest and breathed again. Dean watched, concerned. I paused before slamming my kneecap back into place. I let out a pained scream, and Dean’s face drained of color when I looked back up at him.

He squinted.

Are you okay?

I nodded as I got to my feet.

“Sam!” I called, shuffling through the rooms.

“Do it!” Gordon screamed.

Sam had him pinned, rifle against his forehead.

“Do it! Show your family the killer you really are, Sammy!”

I stumbled behind Sam and took the rifle from him. Gordon stared as a look of terror washed over his face. I wavered, and Sam grabbed my waist, holding me steady. I pulled the rifle back before slamming the butt of it into his head. He went out, cold.

“It’s Sam.” He spat.

I dropped the gun and began to fall backward. Sam caught me and pulled me into his chest.

“It’s alright.”

I looked up at him. He had cuts scattered all over his face. His cheekbone, the bridge of his nose, his lip. A bloody nose, messy hair, tired eyes. I let out a whimper and began to sob.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and cupped my cheeks. “It’s okay. Let’s go get Dean, yeah?”

We walked back to where Dean was tied up, feet dragging as we leaned against each other. Dean grunted at the sound of our footsteps. Sam clapped his shoulder as we stood behind him. I began to untie Dean’s gag as Sam knelt to untie his ropes. Dean shook his head and tore himself out of the last rope. He pulled Sam to stand and stared at him, hands on his shoulders. Sam nodded as he panted, grabbing Dean by the shoulders.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean hissed as he wheeled around and toward the door.

“Dean, no.”

“I let him live once. I’m not making the same mistake twice.” Dean growled.

“Trust me.” Sam sighed. “Gordon’s taken care of.” He leaned forward and grabbed Dean by the jacket, pulling him toward the door. “Come on.”

Sam and I stayed on his tail as we shuffled out of the cabin. We were greeted by Jinx, who had been tied to a tree nearby. She whined and started to paw at the ground. Dean untied her and took the leash off, tucking it into his pocket.

Jinx turned, and her tail stopped wagging. She let out a loud whine and started to run.

“What…”

There was a gunshot, and we turned to see Gordon with a gun in each hand. I tripped and fell, and Sam dragged me off the ground, hauling me over his shoulder.

“Come on!” Dean shouted, leading the way.

He jumped into a ditch, and Sam dumped me in. I hit the ground and rolled, groaning as I tried to untwist my knee.

“You call this taken care of?” Dean howled as Jinx and Sam ducked into the ditch with us.

“Sammy, what the hell are we doing?” I hissed as Gordon stalked closer, firing without end.

Dean pulled me into his side, making sure I was out of sight.

“Just trust me on this, alright?”

As if on cue, sirens blared, and the sounds of cops and their demands met our ears. I flinched and ducked further into Dean. Sam held Jinx as we stared at each other, eyes wide. We peeked up through the shadows to see Gordon dropping to his knees, glaring in our direction.

The boys grinned and I held back a giggle. I looked up at Sam, then Dean with a huge smile on my face. Sam leaned down.

“Anonymous tip.”

Dean shook his head with a smile. “You’re a fine, upstanding citizen, Sam.”

                                                            ***

I frowned as Sam finished bandaging my leg. I huffed, and he ruffled my hair.

“All better, okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He held his hands out for me as I slid off the hood of the car. He glanced over, and I turned to see him staring at Dean, who was on the phone and fuming as he paced around. I sighed and turned back to Sam.

He smiled. “Come on, bug. You should get to sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

I yawned as he opened the passenger side door. “Fine.”

He slid in next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I snuggled into his side and yawned again.

                                                            ***

“Hey, Ava, it’s Sam… Again. Um, call me when you get this. Just wanna make sure you got home okay. Alright. Bye.” Sam hung up the phone with a sigh.

“Everything alright, Sams?”

“Yeah. I hope so.” He huffed.

“Well, at least Gordon should be reaching for the soap for the next few years at least.” Dean grinned.

“Yeah.” Sam sighed again. “If they pin Scott Carey’s murder on him. And if he doesn’t bust out.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Well, if he does, I’m fucking wasting him.”

Dean looked over at Sam, then back at the road, licking his lips. “Dude, you ever take off like that again…”

“What? You’ll kill me?” Sam jested.

“That is so not funny.” Dean hissed.

Sam laughed and I rolled my eyes, leaning further into his side and letting my eyes fall shut.

“Alright. So where to next, then?”

“One word. Amsterdam.”

“Dean.” Sam scoffed.

“Come on, man. I hear the coffeeshops don't even serve coffee.”

“Oh, and they’ve got the van Gogh museum there!” I piped up.

“I’m not just gonna ditch the job.”

“Man, fuck the job.” I squeaked.

Dean blinked, taken aback. “I mean, she’s right. We don’t get paid, we don’t get thanked. The only thing we get’s bad luck.”

“Well, come on, dude. You’re a hunter. I mean, it’s what you were meant to do.”

“Ah, I wasn’t meant to do shit. I don’t believe in that destiny crap.”

Sam half smiled. “You mean you don’t believe in my destiny.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean huffed.

Sam sighed. “Look, Dean. I’ve tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California, and look what happened. We can’t run from this. And you can’t protect us.”

Dean looked back at us. “I can try.”

“Thanks for that.” Sam whispered.

My shoulders dropped and I shifted from Sam’s side to Dean’s, wrapping my arms around one of his.

“Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting. I mean, whatever is coming, I'm taking it head-on, so if you really want to watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around.”

Dean rolled his eyes fondly. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam spat back.

They grinned at each other, and I smiled, letting my head fall against Dean’s shoulder. There was a long pause before Sam picked up his phone again.

“You calling that Ava girl again? You sweet on her or something?”

“She’s engaged, Dean.” Sam scoffed.

“So what? What’s the point of saving the world if you can’t get a little nookie once in a while, huh?” Dean teased.

Sam hung up, a scowl on his face. I frowned.

“Sams?”

“Just a feeling. How far is it to Peoria?”

                                                             ***

Sam picked the lock and led the way. I swept my flashlight around as we stalked down the hall.

“Hello? Is anybody home?”

“Ava?”

Sam stopped in a doorway and I ran into him. Dean stepped on the back of my heels before scrambling backward.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sam?”

“Oh my god.” He whispered.

I snuck under his arm and gasped. A man was lying on the bed, face-up and drenched in blood. Dean pushed past Sam and ran his finger along a windowsill. He huffed and held his finger up.

“Hey.”

Sam turned.

“Sulfur. Demon’s been here.”

“What’s that?” I squinted, pointing to something shiny on the floor.

Sam knelt and picked it up. He sighed.

“Ava.”

Previous Ep: Croatoan (2.09)

Next Ep: Playthings (2.11)

taglist: @i67​

[cherishingstydia]

Double Booked

Evan Buckley was sick of city life. He’d just broken up with his work obsessed boyfriend Jackson. They’d had plans to stay at a Cabin in Colorado they found on Airbnb, but Buck decided to still go since he’d already paid for it and could use an escape.

He’d arrived at the cabin just before a large amount of snow was supposed to hit. After his Uber dropped him off at the cabin he went to bed nearly right away he was exhausted from his travels.

He woke the next morning to the sound of the shower. He heard it shut off and waited with a frying pan from the kitchen. From the bathroom exited the most beautiful man he’d ever seen wearing only a towel. His body was incredible.

“Wh-who are you and why are you here?” Buck stammered.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Eddie snarled.

“I’m Buck, and I rented this place for the week. Your turn.”

“I’m Eddie, and I rented this place for the week. Also could you please lower the frying pan.” Eddie said.

“They double booked us. It’s probably a scam.” Buck sighed, and sat the pan down.

“Wait how long have you been here?” Eddie asked.

“I got in last night. How about you?” Buck asked.

“Early this morning.” Eddie nodded.

“Well we’ll call them, and then you can leave.” Buck hissed.

“Not happening.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“I was here first.” Buck crossed his arms.

“Does it look like I care?” Eddie laughed .

“Ok then we’ll call the owner,and let him sort it out.” Buck said dialing the phone.

The call failed.

“There’s no service.” Buck whined.

“Aww poor little city boy can’t make it out here with out electronics.” Eddie mocked.

“Um how’d you know I’m a city boy?” Buck scoffed.

“The hair, the clothes, the entitlement.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Whatever!” Buck groaned.

Eddie looked out the window there was snow everywhere. He pulled the curtain back. “This explains the phone not working.”

Buck caught himself looking Eddie up and down.

“You should probably put some clothes on now.” Buck said.

“Okay?” Eddie said grabbing his duffel bag from the couch and going in the bathroom to get changed.

Eddie came back out. “So what are we gonna do about all this?”

“Roads look too bad and I don’t even have a car.” Buck answered.

“I’ve got a truck we can see if in awhile it seems like they might clear the roads.” Eddie said.

“So what are we supposed to do until then?” Buck asked.

“I’m going to take a nap. I don’t care what you do.” Eddie said entering the bedroom.

“That’s my room!”

“No it’s not we can alternate nights. I’m not sleeping on that couch every night.” Eddie said.

“Fine!” Buck yelled.

Eddie woke up hours later to a delicious smell.

He came out of the bedroom the table was set for 2.

“I’m sorry for earlier. It’s been a rough few weeks and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. This is my way of saying sorry so I hope you like steak.” Buck smiled.

“ I love it!” Eddie grinned before yawning and stretching slightly exposing his abs.

Buck didn’t know how he was supposed to handle this. Eddie is so hot it’s ridiculous.

“Take a seat!” Buck grinned. “Would you like beer, water, or pop?”

“I could really use a beer!” Eddie said. “I wanna apologize too for my attitude I just went through something, and I’m trying to get a new place so when I move to LA I have somewhere to live. I’ve been a little stressed lately.”

“What? I live in LA small world.” Buck laughed.

“Wow what are the chances?” Eddie smirked.

They enjoyed their dinner talked for hours. They connected rather quickly.

“So do you wanna watch a movie?” Buck smiled.

“Yeah I’d like that.” Eddie nodded.

Not long into the movie Buck, and Eddie were fast asleep, and soon cuddled up on the couch.

The next morning they woke up. Buck looked up at Eddie and smiled. “This still counts as your night for the bedroom.”

“Hey!” Eddie smiled.

“I’m willing to share tonight if you want.” Buck smirked.

Eddie leaned over and their lips met for a short soft kiss.

“I’ll be right back.” Buck said getting up and entering the bathroom.

Eddie answered a knock at the door.

“Who are you?” The man asked.

“I’m Eddie and you are??”

“Jackson I’m Bucks boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry. Um it’s not what it looks like we were double booked. I’m gonna go now.” Eddie said grabbing his coat.

Buck exited the bathroom to see Jackson.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Buck demanded.

“Coming to see you.”

“ We broke up Jackson, and where is Eddie?”

“Oh don’t worry he’s gone now.” Jackson said moving closer and kissing Buck before Buck could push him away Eddie was back.

“I’m just grabbing my bag.” Eddie said quickly leaving.

“Eddie wait!” Buck was chasing him out.

“No. I’ve been cheated on and I would never do it or never be other man. So screw you Buck. I never want to see you again.”

“Eddie please listen to me.” Buck begged, but Eddie got in his truck, slammed the door, and sped away.

A few months had passed since Bucks trip to Colorado. He entered the fire station it was just a normal morning that was until he saw the new team member. It was him. It was Eddie.

“Buck I’d like you to meet Eddie. He’s our newest member.” Bobby smiled.

“Hey.” Buck said trying not to get upset.

Eddie nodded with a frown on his face before heading to the locker room.

Buck followed him.

“Ok can we talk? Please.” Buck begged.

“You have 5 minutes.” Eddie crossed his arms.

“I’m telling you everything. That guy was not my boyfriend I mean he was, but we broke up a month before I even met you. Me and you shared something real unlike anything I’ve ever had with anyone. He kissed me I know that sounds like a line, and not believable, but it’s true. Please give me another chance.”Buck said as his eyes filled with tears.

Eddie stared at Buck in shock.

“I’m such an ass.” Eddie groaned. “I need to realize not everyone is like my ex, and I should have stayed, and let you explain. I should be the one asking for a second chance.” Eddie said moving closer, and wiping away Bucks tears. “So what do you say?” Eddie smiled.

Buck pulled Eddie close and kissed him. “I say I’m the luckiest guy ever if I get to be with you.” Buck rested his head on Eddies forehead.

“I think it’s fate for us to be together. First we get double booked, then I move to LA where you live, and now we are coworkers.” Eddie smiled.

“I think we’re more than coworkers.” Buck blushed.

“Yeah we’re so much more.” Eddie said as he tightly hugged Buck.

[justsmilestuffhappens]

Day 2 (11th of February) - “That might just be the least romantic thing you’ve ever said to me” @buddietinesweek

Love sick

Buck was waiting on his doctor to come back with his results. She'd said his throat looked irritated then took a swab.

He wasn't feeling too hot. Or, well that wasn't the right way of putting it. He felt like his skin was on fire to top off his throat hurting.

"Mr. Buckley." She pulled him out of his phone where he was watching short videos while he was alone to try cheering himself up.

"Just Buck is fine." Buck forced a smile once he finished coughing.

"Well, your results came back as streptococcal pharyngitis. Strep throat. That's what's causing your fever. We'll get you on some oral antibiotics." At buck's gulping which made him wince she continued.

 "I'd advise you need to avoid others for a few weeks at the least. You can come back in a week or so for a checkup though. I'm sure you already know not to share any fluids with others." At buck's nod she went on.

 "Be sure to keep as clean as you can as it can be passed on easily to those around you through sneezing and coughing. The nurse at the front desk can take your insurance and set up where you want your prescription to go before you leave. You didn't have any questions sir?"

"But Valentine's in less than a week." Buck groaned.

"I'm sure you're partner would like to stay healthy and you wouldn't want to pass it on to people you love." She said.

"Yeah, yeah. I don't have to like it." Buck huffed as he got up to go.

This was just great. His first Valentine's day with Eddie since last year when they got together after it had already passed. Buck couldn't catch a break. But he'd be damned if he let himself infect Christopher and Eddie with this. He felt miserable and he wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

His trip out towards his jeep and eventually to the store for cleaning supplies and comfort food while waiting for his drugs was a blur. Buck's pretty sure he could double for a zombie with how he looked but made sure to keep to himself avoiding a cart for his arms and hands. His cough drops were helping too.

Soon he was on his way home to spread the news. Casa de Buckley was off limits till further notice. He took his first dose with food and sent out the mass text. Bobby would have to coordinate things till Buck was 100% again.

Buck decided to call Eddie instead though to both be more personal with his boyfriend and hear his comforting voice.

"Hey Buck, how are you babe?" He heard that smile.

"I'm sweating because my brains melting, and my throat feels like a bee stung my insides, but all i can think about is not being able to kiss you or see Christopher,"

"Wait. You're sick? But I just saw you yesterday”

"Yeah."

"I'm coming over."

"No! Eddie I'm not getting you sick with my dick or yours for that matter no matter how hot and sweet you are fever delusions or not and that's final. I'll barricade my door if I have to. Don't test me man. Please," Buck started coughing only to sigh.

“That might just be both the most and least romantic thing you’ve ever said to me”

"Just keep talking. I like the sound of your voice Eds. And I might owe you a rain check for valentine's,"

"Ok. But you're more important than some holiday. Do you wanna talk to Christopher too?"

"Sure. I gotta explain why movie nights cancelled. Let me drink something, "

"It was game night. I'll get him."

"Right. I'm sick cut me a break" buck laughed.

"Hi buck." Christopher's voice brought a smile to his face.

"Hey buddy." Buck replied.

"Are you ok?"

"No buddy I'm sick. But I'll be better in maybe over a week. The doctor got me medicine to help but hearing you guys is good too." Buck said.

Christopher told him about his day after Eddie got home along with Eddie saying what they'd gotten up to at work. Buck replied when he could until he was snoring.

"Daddy, i think buck fell asleep." Christopher whispered.

"Yeah. Say good night."

Christopher did then handed back the phone.

Eddie went to his room. He'd put Christopher to sleep in another half hour. He left the call connected even if someone else might find it odd. Buck was his boyfriend so he could do that right?

He'd fall asleep to the sound of Buck once he put Christopher to bed a few minutes later.

-

It'd been a few days. Well four to be exact.

Eddie had wormed his way inside despite buck's protests. They didn't kiss and barely held hands as they watched a movie while buck's soup cooked.

"I can't figure out how I got sick still" buck said as Eddie brought him a bowl.

"It could have been the smallest thing. Don't worry about it. Just get better and if you're not okay by valentine's then we'll do something else later." Eddie turned off the TV.

"What?" Buck blew his spoon away from Eddie.

"I'm gonna go. Finish your soup then take a nap Buck. Love you." Eddie moved to kiss Buck on reflex.

Buck tucked his head as Eddie's lips met his hairline and forehead near his birthmark.

"Oh. Sorry. I guess I forgot,”

"You're not getting sick. I love you too much for that." Buck smiled as Eddie left.

-

It was valentine's day. Outside of Maddie and Chimney coming over to check up on him his place was still quarantined.

Buck sat alone in his apartment as his favorite show was ending.

Eddie hadn't said much about today during their nightly check ins with Christopher too.

The door opened to Eddie bringing in a pizza.

"Eddie-"

"I know, no kissing or sex,I'm not a caveman Buck."

Buck snickered.

"Stop laughing." Eddie said lightly as he got them drinks.

"You've gotta admit you walked into that one even if your are pretty good at it mister punchy."

They had space between them as Buck found a romcom to watch.

Half way through Buck turned it off as the guy was way too creepy even if he was hot.

Eddie switched the TV over as Buck asked. "So Christopher okay?"

"He misses you, same as me. He's with my Tia tonight and his cousin."

"Wait. What are you doing? You can’t sleep over Eddie even if I feel a little better.”

"Relax it’s just for the surprise part of our date night. I had to go to two stores for this and it wasn't even the version I wanted."

Buck watched as a Sims game booted up on his console.

"Okay?" He still didn't get it.

"At least one version of me can kiss you tonight. Come on, we're gonna make you first. Think this game says they even got supernatural stuff in it too." Eddie started on the character creation.

Buck found it entirely hilarious but also incredibly thoughtful. With Eddie's character finished and them looking for passable doppelgangers they began the game.

They kissed as a fire started in the kitchen only for the fire department to show up and save them.

Eddie had them get in the hot tub as music was playing. It was nice until their random visiting neighbor died summoning death.

"Okay this is just weird now." Buck said as he flirted with the grim reaper making Eddie jealous.

"How could you cheat on me with death?" Eddie asked incredulously.

"I just did it. Relax it’s not like I really like them. Oh." Buck watched his avatar hug death.

"I'm a werewolf?!" Eddie asked as the moon rose transforming him.

"Dude. Death just proposed to me and I turned them down for you. Wait, now I'm a zombie?"

Eddie turned off the game after that.

"Okay. Maybe that wasn't a good idea."

"No. It was great. I haven't laughed like that all week. Real me would never cheat on you, you're it for me." Buck leaned in absentmindedly as Eddie smiled before remembering and leaning away.

"Want another slice?" Eddie got up.

"Yeah. I can't have you in me so I guess I'll just have to settle for that." Buck joked startling Eddie to drop his plate into the sink.

"Buck you can't just say that.I’m only human, it’s hard not jumping your bones babe. But I'm glad you're feeling better." Eddie said while taking the second controller and moving it before sitting back down.

"The second I'm cleared of the zombie virus I'm gonna be all over you." Buck said devouring his food with fervor.

"I look forward to it. But until then this is a good date because I'm spending it with you." Eddie said drinking his lime soda before enjoying another slice.

"I owe Christopher hugs and kisses too so he's first then I'm all yours." Buck winked.

"All mine you say, hmm. I like the sound of that. The things we could do." Eddie raised his eyebrow.

"Just keep that thought for a few more days and hope my doctor tells me I'm all good." Buck grinned.

"You're more than good." Eddie said.

"You know what I meant."

"Yeah. But it's still true."

They were back to it now watching an action movie.

Eddie was glad Buck didn't look so down anymore. He'd wait a lifetime for buck, he was worth it.

[palettes-and-prompts]

25 Dialogue Prompts For Each Color of the Rainbow

Red  1) "It's so hard being better than everyone else." 2) "How could they want someone else when they have a ten standing right in front of them?" 3) "It feels like a million butterflies are inside my stomach when I'm with them, I think this must be true love!" 4) "I should write them a love letter to confess my feelings--no! I'll write them a song!" 5) "Don't you dare put your filthy hands on me, only someone who is worthy is allowed to touch me!" 6) "I wanted to make our first time together special, is it too much?" 7) "I don't ever want us to be apart again." 8) "I could never love you!" 9) "They're perfect and check everything on my list! It's a sign from the universe that we were meant to be!" 10) "How dare you talk to me like that, I'm heaven on earth and you will treat me as such!" 11) "If you wont respect me then you'll die here!" 12) "If you look up perfection in the dictionary you'll find a photo of me." 13) "I want to be with you forever, and if you die I hope to die beside you." 14) "I love you but if you ever tell someone else they're pretty in front of me I will not only cry on you but also think about it for days." 15) "What have they got that I don't?" 16) "I want you in every way for the rest of my life I want you." 17) "Don't even think about going near them, I'll kill you where you stand!" 18) "We can do long distance, it's only for a few months. Besides, you and I love each other too much to let a few thousand miles get in the way." 19) "They told me my outfit was tacky! I mean, they had the nerve to stand there in a pair of dollar store shorts and say that to my face!" 20) "Maybe I'm not good enough." 21) "Let's go on a romantic getaway! How about Hawaii, or maybe Italy, no, Paris!" 22) "My whole body feels like it's on fire when they touch me and when they give me that look I feel like I'm going to melt right under them." 23) "Don't you know who I am?" 24)"You love someone else, who are they? I'd like to know who's taking my place!" 25) "Don't you just love love?"

Orange 1) "Relax! We'll do it later." 2) "Just chill, why are you always stressing yourself?" 3) "I'm not scared of anything, I just don't like doing things for people." 4) "We should go to sleep to wake up super early so we can get breakfast and then come back and binge watch this one show." 5) "Don't even worry, babe, this haunted house is nothing to be afraid of." 6) "What do you want to do today, we can go anywhere." 7) "You know, every time you kiss me I get that feeling in my stomach most people get when they jump out of a plane. Like that good kind of scared and excited all in one." 8)"How much money will you give me if I drink this whole bottle of wasabi?" 9) "Hey, hot stuff, miss me?" 10) "You're so soft, I think I'm gonna nap here on you." 11) "You look cold, take my jacket. It looks better on you anyway." 12) "I like seeing you smile, you don't do it too often but when you do the whole room feels brighter." 13) "If you get scared you can hold my hand." 14) "Come back to bed, how will I sleep without my little/big spoon?" 15) "Did you buy me food? Fuck I love you." 16) "Your butt is a really great hand warmer." 17) "What do you say, you wanna run off and marry me?" 18) "Did you sleep in my shirt? That's hot." 19) "How many puppies do you think we can fit in our jacket before they start noticing?" 20) "Why don't we have a lazy day in and stay in bed all day? If I get hungry I can just eat you." 21) "What's cooking, good looking, smells amazing. I bet it tastes great, maybe not as great as you do but I'm sure I'll love it." 22) "Cats are the devil and they're definitely out to kill mankind but look how cute this one is, his name is crackers!" 23) "I probably wont fight anyone unless I absolutely have to, or you want me to." 24) "Any particular reason your pants are off, though i'm not complaining." 25) "Get behind me, babe. And don't be scared, I've got this situation under control."

Yellow 1) "Why do something yourself if you can get others to do it for you?" 2) "Don't worry, I've got everything under control." 3) "You can trust me, we're friends aren't we?" 4) "No, you can't do it like this, everything has to be just right. I wont settle for anything less than perfection." 5) "Just trust me, have I ever let you down?" 6) "Don't panic, you know me, I always have a plan B." 7) "You deserve someone who puts you first, not someone who treats spending time with you like a chore." 8) "I will sacrifice anyone for you, everyone for you." 9) "I want to go out with you, but I can't, I have too much work to do. But maybe if you helped me we could get it done faster." 10) "Oh, you like them? Well, I didn't want to say anything because I don't gossip but I heard a pretty nasty rumor about them." 11) "Listen, cupcake, I worked my ass off to get everything together for you, now get out there and entertain or I am going to be very, very upset." 12) "They look happy together, well, we can't have that." 13) "Why don't you let me take care of that for you? I'll make sure they get the message." 14) "Don't go, without you none of this was worth it, without you this is all for nothing." 15) "I think you should stop looking into things that don't concern you, I'd hate to see someone like you get hurt." 16) "No, you don't have to get me anything, I just wanted to do something nice for you." 17) "I've spent my whole life being nice to people to get where I am now, and I am not about to let some bright eyed little brat try to take it from me." 18) "Should that scare me? I've spent my entire life surrounded by idiots like you trying to tell me what to do, so now you listen. Let go of me before I do something you wont like." 19) "Well, if you need a favor from me then I'm going to need something from you." 20) "Everyone has a price, so what's yours?" 21) "They got hurt? How awful." 22) "They're an infection and, since everything we're doing isn't healing it, looks like we're going to have to cut it out." 23) "I've said it once and I'll say it again. Stay out of my way, love.” 24) "It would be a shame if someone like them went missing." 25) "Oh love, you should have seen this coming, you know me. And what have I always said, looks can be deceiving."

Green 1) "Back off, they're mine!" 2) "Why would you want them to help you? I can do all of this in no time, you just relax and let me take care of you." 3) "Look at my outfit, don't you think it's cute? Hey, pay attention to me, don't you think I look cute?" 4) "What are you going to do, hurt me? Go ahead, who knows, I might even like it." 5) "Can I sit in your lap?" 6)  "Why are they so special to you, do you want them or something? I thought you liked me." 7) "God don't stop! Please don't stop!" 8) "If I'm not happy then why should others be happy?" 9) "I'm not always bad. I can be good if everyone gave me a chance." 10) "Not to be horny on main but like, if you pet my hair and call me baby or tell me I look good in a low voice while you put your hand down my pants I'm yours forever." 11) "I like to get what I want and I wont let you stand in my way." 12) "Why should they get to have that, I worked hard for it, I'm the one who wanted it!" 13) "I'm annoying? Have you even heard your voice?" 14) "I know I can be a little petty but like, I'm also really good at sex and people don't focus on that enough." 15) "Ow, that hurts! No, no, keep going, I never said I didn't like it." 16) "Can I do your makeup, please? I'll make it really cute!" 17) "You'll stay with me wont you? I don't want to be alone." 18) "You're so clingy." "Clingy? You're the one still hugging me!" 19) "Take your clothes off, I wanna feel your hands on me right now." 20) "Don't stop, just hold me for a little longer. You can stop in a little while but for now just...don't let go of me." 21) "Ugh, you're so boring! Let's do something fun!" 22) "I need love and attention so I'm going to need a lot of kisses, you don't want me to die, do you?" 23) "But what if I start wandering around and get lost? You'd better hold my hand just in case!" 24) "I know you're really mad at me but also I'm very cute so please don't be mad at me." 25) "Is bad I like it when you're mad at me, it makes the sex so much better."

Blue 1) "We're not friends, we're family." 2) "I love spending time with you all so much! 3) "You don't have to do it alone, you know? We're family and we're going to get through this together." 4) "You seem stressed. I know, why don't we go to an amusement park?" 5) "I love big holidays like this! Being around friends and family is the best!" 6) "Why don't I do this for you, you should get some rest. You look like you could use it." 7) "Don't get frustrated because you can't do it, just keep practicing, you'll get there eventually." 8) "It's only a little cold, you all didn't have to come here to take care of me." 9) "Your hugs are the best, I always feel so safe with you!" 10) "The choice is yours and whatever you decide we'll be right behind you all the way." 11) "I'm so lucky to have someone like you around, you always take care of me." 12) "You know, it's a beautiful day outside, why don't we go get some ice cream and go to the park?" 13) "I heard you were sick so I made you some soup and brought over some movies to watch." 14) "I can't fix you because you don't need to be fixed, okay? You're not broken and don't ever let anyone tell you any different. You're perfect, just the way you are." 15) "I'll support you no matter what!" 16) "I only want to help you, please let me help you." 17) "Of course I still love you, just because we disagree on a few things doesn't mean I'm going to stop loving you. It just means we're different, but different isn't bad. In fact, I think different is good." 18) "I can't stand by and watch you do this to yourself, I wont. Give me your hand, let's get you cleaned up." 19) "You seem sad, wanna go to the animal shelter and look at the dogs?" 20) "Don't worry, I've got you. You're safe, I've got you." 21) "If you really think that you can just give me those puppy dog eyes and I'll forgive you then you're right and I forgive you. Now please don't cry, come here." 22) "You can do it, I believe in you!" 23) "Family doesn't give up on each other." 24) "Everyone makes mistakes, it just means you're human." 25) "I am never going to give up on you."

Indigo 1) "That plan isn't going to work." 2) "Why would I want to work with you on the project? You'd just slow me down." 3) "I don't have time for fun, I've got to study for exams because unlike some people I care about my future." 4) "Spending the rest of my life with someone? Why would I want someone to distract me from my work?" 5) "Look, this is hard for me to admit so just let me try and say it, okay? I was not right today. You were. I was wrong." 6) "Do I have to have a partner on this assignment? I'd much rather do this on my own than have some idiot partner who does nothing and takes half the credit." 7) "Piece of advice? Give up, you're not great and no amount of effort you put in will ever be enough." 8) "You got me a gift? Wow, the only thing anyone's ever given me was a headache. Thank you." 9) "I don't think I'm better than you, I know I am." 10) "Speed dating is the most effective form of dating, it helps you wade through the idiots faster." 11) "I'm not listening to them, if I wanted dumb advice I would have just came to you." 12) "We're just going to listen to this idiot?" 13) "You really heard the question, thought about it, and then said that answer with full conviction. You're completely wrong of course but the fact that you were brave enough to say it in front of everyone is kind of inspiring. 14) "I've always been on my own, I'm comfortable that way." 15) "You're crying, should I call someone else? Anyone else? 16) "Don't walk away from me, I just--I'm not good at this whole interacting with others thing. But I really am trying." 17) "I'd like us to be friends, which is strange because I hate everyone. But I think I like you." 18) "This essay counts for a quarter of your grade, I've seen your report card, you might want to actually try on this one if you don't want to repeat this class." 19) "Why do I hang out with you again?" 20) "True love isn't real, it's just a fantasy created that's now being used by candy companies to sell chocolates, cards, and stuffed animals to idiots like you." 21) "Don't worry, this is just a tape recorder, I like to keep these recordings as a way to look back on past conversations. I listen to them when I'm wrong about something, I like to remind myself that I could always be dumber." 22) "I'm good at a lot of things, but sports, empathy, and feelings other than anger or annoyance aren't a part of those things." 23) "If you plan on saying something stupid now is not the time or the place. I'm very busy." 24) "It's moments when people say things like that that I truly worry for not only you future but the future of our earth." 25) "Look, I feel things when I'm with you, and it's new and scary but I think I like it."

Violet 1) "I handle it, you stay here, I don't want you to get hurt." 2) "Don't you get it, they're using you! They don't care about you, they only care about getting what they want." 3) "Just because I'm not crying all the time doesn't mean I don't have feelings." 4) "We'll leave in a minute, I just want to hold you a little bit longer." 5) "I know you've heard the rumors about me, do you believe them?" 6) "Just because I'm helping you doesn't mean we're friends." 7) "You make me want to be better." 8) "Something about the way you smile makes me feel like everything's going to be okay." 9) "I'm walking away now, do not follow me." 10) "How cute, you were worried about me." 11) "Don't worry about me, honey, I'll be back in no time." 12) "Do you want me because you actually like me or because I'm the kind of person your friends and family warned you about?" 13) "I work alone." 14) "I didn't mean to say what I did, okay? I didn't mean any of it." 15) "Every time I try to forget about you I see you everywhere. I see every time I close my eyes, in my dreams. I can't stop thinking about you. 16) "I don't want much, I never have, but I want you. God do I want you." 17) "It really does feel like you and I were made for each other." 18) "You make it so hard to protect you when you keep running towards danger like this!" 19) "You're annoying! You're a stuck up little brat who throws a tantrum when things don't go your way and I can't believe I'm in love with you!" 20) "I have to be honest with you, the thought of getting close to you kind of scares the hell out of me." 21) "I'm not your knight in shining armor or your prince charming. I'm just someone who got paid to keep you safe. A babysitter with a sword, nothing more." 22) "I've always left relationships before they got serious but there's something about you that makes me want to stay." 23) "You're nothing to me, just a stupid prince/princess who opened their legs for the first person to make them feel special." 24) "Keep talking, maybe we'll get lucky and you'll annoy them to death. Can't believe I'm fucking stuck in here with you." 25) "Don't leave, I know I said I didn't need anyone but that's not true. I need you."

[mmemiraculous]

The 5th VK

Chapter 3: Great Job Jay! (Said no one ever)

<- Chapter 2

After a long nap, watching Mal silently scheme, and giving Evie design feedback for some outfits, the sun finally set, allowing the girls to make their way to the boy’s room. As they walked, they were never shown which room, but Carlos’ joyous laughter could be recognized from anywhere. After opening the door revealing the boys room, Hailey was immediately jealous.

The boys room wasn’t as bright as theirs were. The room had two beds with dark oak bed frames, blue comforters and blue pillows pushed to the corners of the room. In the middle of the room held a small table with four chairs and snacks scattered all over the surface of said table.

Carlos was playing some kind of fighting game on the biggest Tv Hailey has ever seen And Jay was trying to open all the electronics that he most likely stole.

Whatever game Carlos was playing spiked Hailey’s interest, “Ooo. ‘Los, lemme play?” Hailey asked, as she was grabbing for the controllers. Carlos gave a defeated sigh and handed the controls to the youngest of the five. As soon as she got them, she immediately ducked as the virtual person tried to swing at her. “Whoa.” Hailey said in amazement as she sent a couple swings herself at the person.

Evie sat on Carlos’ bed touching up her makeup for the umpteenth time of the day, and Mal gravitated to the various valuables that were laying on the thief's bed. “Jay, what is this?”

“It’s called stealing.” Jay said in a ‘Duh’ tone.

“What’s the point?” Mal decided to play this game.

“Well, Mal,” Jay started with a matter-of-fact tone, “It's like buying whatever I want, except It's free.”

“Okay. So, you could do that,” Mal picked up one of the phones, “or you could leave all of this here and pick it up when we take over the world.” She fake gasped and let the phone fall.

“You sound just like your mom.” Evie said as she looked up from her hand mirror.

Mal placed her hand to her heart. “Aw. Thanks, E.”

“Whatever,” said Jay. “You do you.”

“Die, Sucker.” Hailey yelled as she punched another virtual person as Carlos cheered her on.

Mal noticed how she was the only person being serious about what was going on. “Guys! Do I have to remind you what we're all here for?”

“Fairy Godmother, blah, blah, blah. Magic wand, blah. Blah. Blah” Jay teases Mal, getting giggles from everyone else except the young fairy.

“Guys!” Mal startled everyone by slamming her hand on the table. “This is our one chance to prove ourselves to our parents. To prove that we are evil and vicious and ruthless and cruel. Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Everyone agreed. But in her head, Hailey thought vicious was a bit much for her.

“E,” the purple haired girl snapped her fingers calling everyone over, “mirror me.”

Evie sat in the chair next to Mal, and pulled her mother’s mirror out. “Mirror, mirror on the wa-. in my hand,” She corrected herself. “Where does Fairy Godmother's wand... stand?” At her command, the mirror revealed where the wand was standing. More like how it was standing

“So where is it?” Asked Hailey, while Carlos took out the laptop Jay was just holding.

“Zoom out.” Mal demanded.

“You don’t have to be so pushy.” Said the daughter of the Evil Queen, but did what the other girl said anyways, “Magic mirror not so close.” The mirror zoomed out to show the earth from space.

“Are you serious?” Jay deadpanned.

“Closer.” Evie asked, and it zoomed into the United States of Auradon, “Closer.” She asked once more, and it zoomed in “Closer.” Everyone grew impatient.

“Can I go back to my game?” Carlos asked as he was already walking towards the TV.

“Only because I got you there.” Hailey reminded him.

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself.”

“Stop!” Said Mal halting the zooms. The mirror paused on a sign that read “The Museum of Cultural History’ “It's in a museum. Do we know where that is?”

The clacking of keys was heard immediately, “2.3 Miles from here.” Carlos presented the laptop screen to everyone.

“That was fast.” Jay admired The boy's speed.

Everyone gathered their jackets ready to go. “Let’s do this.” Mal said as they all walked out the door. Carlos tried to sneak back into the room but Jay grabbed him before he got the chance.

_______________________

Running down small stairs this fast was harder than Hailey thought. Especially in the dark and in her heavy combat boots. “I’m going to fall if we don’t slow down.”

“Deal with it.” Mal told her.

“I’m stopping.” Hailey stood her ground.

“Ugh,” Mal gave up and stopped going down the steps. “Fine. Evie, check your mirror.”

“Is my mascara smudged?” Evie scrambled for her mirror.

“Yeah.” Mal said, earning a snicker from Hailey as they made their way down the steps again. “And, hey, while you're at it, why don't you see If you can find us the wand?”

“Oh, ha ha.” Said Evie, a bit irritated that the girl made her freak out a bit, but did what she said anyway. “This way.” She said and the four followed her to the door of an enormous building.

The door had windows that looked through the front of the building showing millions of screens, a security guard, and a giant spinning wheel that seemed familiar. The security guard spun in his chair and as soon as he faced the door, everyone ducked under the doors window.

The group looked up again when the guard turned around.

“That's your mother's spinning wheel?” Jay noticed.

“Yeah, It's kinda dorky.” Said Carlos.

“Well, what were you expecting? It’s evil, doesn’t need to look scary.” Mal reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her spell book. "Magic spindle, do not linger. Make my victim prick a finger." Mal chanted the spell, but the guard merely glanced at the spindle.

The boys laughed at her failed attempt and Hailey tried to cover her own laugh by turning away from Mal and covering her mouth. “Guys, be quiet. At least she’s trying something.” Evie defended the Fairy. Mal turned to the Evil Queen's daughter and mouthed a small thanks, earning a small blush Evie.

Mal looked back down into the spell book before remembering, “The Ember!” She said unnecessarily loud. “Hailey, what did your dad say about the ember?”

“That It amps up spells, I think.”

“So, we just use the ember and it’ll work.”

“Sure. whatever.” Hailey said. How does she use this again? She thought. The blue haired girl tried waving her hand a bit, which didn’t work. She tried getting angry, but couldn’t find anything to be angry about.

“Try feeling the magic.” Mal told her.

The youngest VK took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and curled her fingers around the ember in her palm. After a few seconds a rush of something ran through her body. Hailey’s eyes flew open and her short curls erupted into an ombré of blue flames.

“Woah.” Hailey breathed out.

“Sick!” Said Carlos as everyone admired her now flaming hair.

“Now,” Mal put her focus on what they were doing again. “We somehow transfer the embers magic into the spell.”

“Um,” Hailey thought for a second. “Give me your hand?”

The two girls intertwined their fingers together. Mal held up her spell book and told Hailey to say a spell with her. "Prick the finger, prick it deep. Send my enemy off to sleep." They said together. The security guard immediately shot up and pricked his finger on the tip, sending him to sleep.

“I’m surprised that actually worked.” Hailey said in slight disbelief.

Mal smirked at the dumbfounded look on Jay's face. She reached to open the door and was not surprised when it didn’t open. Ugh! She thought as she sighed.

“Stand back.” Jay told everyone as he walked backwards to give himself a running start.

“Please tell me you're not actually going to try to kick this door down.” Hailey pleaded with the tall boy, Not Noticing Mal was steps ahead up them.

“AAHH!” Jay let out a cry as he flew through the doors as they flung open.

The girls burst out laughing. “You coming?” Mal said as she nudged Jay with her foot, Hailey patted his head and Evie rubbed it. Carlos tried to help him but the Arabian, but he quickly shoved him off.

The group walked around the sleeping guard. “Wait,” started Hailey. “How did Jay not wake up the guard?” She asked everyone.

“The ember can amplify spells.” Carlos thought out loud. “Do you think we killed him?!” Just as the young DeVil said that, a loud snore came from the guard.

“He’s definitely alive.” Mal said. “Might be stuck in forever sleep though.” She mumbled quietly so she wouldn’t freak out the youngest VKs. Mal motioned for all of them to follow her as they looked around the displays in the room.

Evie led everyone down a long hall. “We’re close. Upstairs.” Everyone climbed the stairs with Mal telling them to hurry every two seconds.

When they finally got to the top of the stairs, there was another long hallway to go down. While running down the hall, Mal abruptly stops looking into another room. Hailey was taken back by the contents of the room.

The room they were in held the statues of each of their parents. Hailey ignored what the other VKs were saying about their parents, too preoccupied looking at her father with blue flames in his hands and his signature smirk. Hailey’s thought back to all of the stories her Dad told her. About how he released all the titans and was so close to ruling everything. About how it felt when he was hit into the river of souls. How he screamed his fire out when he yelled at pain and panic when he got out. “Chaotic.” She whispered under her breath.

“Well. The wands not here.” Jay snapped her out of their thoughts. “Let’s go.” Everyone followed him further down. Well, everyone sans Mal.

She was too distracted by looking into the too realistic statue of her mother.

“Look at you, look at me, I don't know who to be, Mother.” She walked a few steps closer.

“Is it wrong? Is it right? Be a thief in the night Mother.” She looked in her eyes, searching for an answer.

“Mal you comin’?” The young Sorceress heard Hailey’s voice behind her.

“Yeah.” Mal said as the other girl walked away again.

“Tell me what to do…” she tried one more time, but eventually gave up and turned to follow where Hailey had gone. A loud familiar cackle was heard behind her. Turning back around, Mal was taken back at her mother’s now very much alive statue.

“Hahaha. Don’t be so serious honey.” Maleficent covered her laughter with her hand, “I’m sorry.”

_______________________

“Hailey, where's Mal?” Evie asked when Hailey came back to the group.

“She’s right behind-” Hailey looked behind herself and saw no purple hair. “Me?” Hailey furrowed her brows in confusion. How did she not notice?

“Don’t worry. I’ll get her.” Said Evie.

_______________________

When Evie went to collect the other girl, she found her breathless. Her chest going up and down as if she was running this entire time.

“M, are you ok?” Evie ran up to her and put her hand on the other girl's shoulders.

Mal smiled at her and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Ok, let’s go. I found the wand.” The girls ran to where Evie found the wand.

Going up another case of stairs, another hallway, and a golden gate, the group found it. Hailey gasped. In its own room, floating in all its glory. Fairy Godmother's wand. Their key to revenge just five feet away.

Hailey was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Mal telling Jay not to do something.

Jay was trying to reach for the strange display the wand was in.

“Jay, stop.” Hailey warned him. The brunette ignored her and gave them all a shit-eating grin. He ducked under the railing and tried to touch the wand.

“Don’t!” They all yelled at him. When Jay touched the thing, he was immediately pushed back and seemed to have set an alarm.

“A force failed and a siren?” Said Carlos as they all covered their ears and ran out of the room.

“That’s a bit excessive.” Came from Jay when They all went back down stairs.

“Didn’t think you knew such big words.”

“Not the time!” The daughter of the evil queen reminded her.

Mal held the front door open for them all as they ran out. She only counted three as they all ran out. “Carlos. What are you doing?”

“Making sure we all don’t get caught.” Carlos put down the phone and ran out the door. “You’re welcome.!”

“Great job Jay!” Mal told him as they ran away from the building, “now we have to go school tomorrow.”

Just their luck.

[szopenhauer]

What type of friend are you?  funny mom friend so like... dad friend? XD 

Have you ever been friends with someone for longer than 7 years? nah

Do you have a family member you hate? could say so

Does your family accept who you are? it’s complicated

Have you ever puked in school or at work? luckily not

Do you hate puking or does it make you feel better? hate 

Have you ever coughed up blood? nope

Do you lie to your doctor? sometimes we all have to but nothing important

Have you ever been misdiagnosed? yup

Do you think you have an disorder but havent been properly diagnosed yet? that too

Is self diagnosing good or bad? depends

Do you think sex is overated? it is

Is it important for both genders to understand eachothers bodies? I’m not dating men, I don’t want to have a son and I am not a doctor so I don’t care about male bodies, sorry

If someone was a virgin and was raped, did they lose their virginity? ...

Have you ever dated someone more than twice your age? nooo

Have you ever been cut off by a bartender because you were too drunk? I don’t drink

Have you ever borrowed money from your mom & lied about why you needed it? I don’t think so

Have you ever dated someone just because they had money? no

Have you ever lied to your spouse about the money you spent shopping? it wasn’t a lie but I bend the truth a little 

Have you ever gone on a first date with no underwear? I might go without a bra but because I don’t wanna wear it and not because I might have sex 

Do you treat attractive people better than others who aren’t as attractive? nope

Are you more comfortable with friends that are less attractive than you? not less but not more as more attractive might make me feel insecure at times

Have you ever hated a job to the point that you tried to get fired? I would if they let me stay in few places but luckily they didn’t care much about me as their worker hahaha

Have you ever lied about your weight on a driver license? there is weight on a driving license? :o

Have you ever lied during a job interview? meh

Have you ever lied to your boss to get out of work? I exaggerated feeling sick once to not get a job in a horrible place if that counts

Have you ever lied under oath in court? I wouldn’t!

Have you ever bought alcohol for someone underage? I said NO

Have you ever switched tags on an item to pay less for it? I only took tag from an identical item, just different color, as someone tore it out before and I really wanted that particular color, so no

Have you taken any pics of yourself that you wont want your parents to see? umm... yeah ^^”

Did you ever tell your BF/GF you like their outfit when you really didn’t? there are different types of like - like as I would want to wear that myself and like as I enjoy it in general but also like it on particular person etc. 

Do you feel accepted by your BF/GF ’s family? could be worse lol

Do you lie about your age? what for if everybody think I’m younger anyway

Would you risk your life to save a total stranger? maybe

Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument? hell no

Have you ever snuck out of the house to go out with friends? not really

Have you ever shoplifted? no way

Have you ever done something because of peer pressure you are ashamed of? yup Have you ever been embarrassed to introduce your parents to anyone? omg

Have you ever held back a well deserved compliment because you were jealous? I don’t recall

Do you guilt people into giving you what you want? hope not, I try not to, it’s manipulative and I already am seen this way due to my BPD so... 

Would most ppl consider you better than average looking? pfft Would you prefer to have hot body or high IQ? good health

Are you embarrassed to tell people your job? I’m ashamed to tell them that I don’t have a job 

Would you give up your car to save the planet? if I had one...

Are you more likely to believe a man or woman? woman :x

Has your credit card ever been declined? I don’t use a credit card

If you ran over an animal would you keep driving? oh no...

Do you think your parents are too critical of you? my mother is

Ever blame a sibling for something you did wrong? I usually have to take the blame for her instead

Have you ever accepted credit for someone else’s work? just my alters lmfao

Did you ever buy something expensive,wear it once and return it? I didn’t, I have no money to buy and no heart to act like this either

Have you ever re-gifted something? shitload of times

Do you really care about saving the planet for future generations? not for future ppl, just for itself

Do you own anything from IKEA? not furniture 

What was the last task that you required the use of scissors for? I just dropped them and let them lay on the floor under the table because I am unable to reach ‘em

Look around the room and name any item that’s grey. stuffed bad from Biedronka that I got on a flea market

Do you know what any of your close friends did yesterday afternoon? me and M. been spending time together while my parents were at home

Can you recall the last time you woke up in a bad mood? Why was that? I always do?...

Who was the last person to send you a message with a heart emoji? my gf obviously

Does your hometown have many good bookshops? none

What would be your typical outfit for a party? I don’t attend parties 

If your girlfriend/​​boyfriend broke up with you tonight, what would you do? oh...

last dream you had: K. 3D printed or smth almost identical album as the ones I had as a baby and her and my current partner gave it to me as a gift :3

do you think a lot of people think bad things about you? I aware of that

is your best friend pissing you off at this exact moment? I informed my father that I dropped scissors and now as I picked them up he asked me when and how they ended up there while I told him about it few minutes ago - I was more worried than annoyed tbh

Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? she’s taking a nap

Sex ruins relationships, right? it can happen

Last person to stand up for you? hmm...

The last person you kissed, how many times have you cried in front of them? I lost count which is weird because I cry in front of my family members only (not even my grandma until I was a baby), I know that sometimes I cry in public but because I don’t give a fuck about strangers as much as I used to, close ones in the other hand... Nat hates the most when someone sees him so vulnerable

Something good going to happen tomorrow? doubt it

The last person you kissed hates you. Why? would have reasons

What do you usually do when the clock turns 11:11? it’s a secret you can unlock in a very high level of our relationship

Do you like your cell phone? it’s ok

So, what if you married the last person you kissed? we’re engaged so that dream ain’t that unreal

Have you ever had a really big fight with a best friend? uh oh

Do you plan on moving out within the next year? I wish

What are you listening to at the moment? mom and dad talking <rolling my eyes>

Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years? or never

What’s your favorite high school memory? I have a bunch of those

Do you wish you had more money? absolutely

Team Jacob or Team Edward? team hate Twilight

Do you have a problem with bisexual, gay, or bicurious people? with bicurious maybe, definitely not gay

Have you ever held hands with the opposite sex? I have

Are you a patient person? weirdly unpatient Do you think you are a good person? am not

Honestly, have you ever eaten raw cookie dough? ewww

Is there a difference between the word ‘best friend’ and ‘friend’? there is 

How was your week? rollerclaster XD

Does it bother you when an artist remakes a song that one has previously done? usually

When was the last time you cried? recently

What letter is the song you’re listening to under? M if vocalist/band B if title of the song

Would you rather visit the 60s or 70s? 60s I guess

Do your socks say anything on them? I have no socks with anything said on them

Name a TV channel that only has three letters in it. BBC

Gray or Grey? grey

Will you be buying concert tickets any time soon? I won’t

Have you seen the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Did you like it? yasss, it was fine

How many weddings have you been to? less than 5

When you smile, are you confident? I am not

Have you ever not done something because you were afraid of getting in trouble? of course

Was the weather beautiful today? it’s cold

Do you have to have a fan on when you sleep? I don’t own a fan Would you rather have an orange, red or gray bedroom? walls? orange 

Would you ever dye part of your hair blue? why not whole

Is Finding Nemo a favorite movie of yours? I dislike it

Does/Did your school have a uniform? middle school only and that was a great idea

Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? not gonna

What’s your favorite thing to do? nothing

If your house was haunted, what would you do? depends

What’s worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? slow internet

Are you a fast or slow walker? which alter? :P

Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? I must buy belt for Nat

Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? no comment

What age do you look forward to reaching? I live on borrowed air...

What exercise do you hate the most? awkward ones

Do you know anyone that has a gecko as a pet? no

What color shirt is your mom wearing today? she’s wearing a striped pajama and light blue sweater atm

Does any part of your body hurt right now? mor than one

Do you like Greek Mythology? not a fan

When was the last time you had Pepsi? ages ago

What was the last question you answered, not on surveys? it was more an order than a question coming from my mom 

Do you own anything Polo? used to

Do you know anyone with exaggeratedly big muscles? neighbor

What is your favorite endangered animal? are elephants still endangered?

Do you like to dance? kinda, from time to time Who was the last person who screamed your name? mom’s calling me again, grrr...

Which underwater creature do you find the most badass? what do you mean?

How do you usually find out what the weather will be like for the next week? someone tells me, I ignore them, they were wrong all along

Why have/haven’t you joined Twitter? I left as it was boring and irritating Are you good at rhyming? but don’t like to rhyme

When’s the last time you were woken up in an obnoxious way? lately it’s common

Why do you/don’t you enjoy horror movies? they’re disgusting and pointless

Do you have any celebrity’s perfume? I don’t use perfume

How well do you do at Scrabble? in polish or english?

Who is your favorite Scooby-Doo character? Velma I suppose

Have you ever played or been interested in playing World Of Warcraft? been interested, liked the movie

What kind of cake/other dessert treat did you have for your last birthday? nothing?

Who do you think does the best job at cartoon voiceovers? Jarosław Boberek 

Does your dad wear a watch all the time? years ago frequently

How much ice cream do you think you’d be able to eat before you got sick? only a bit

Do you know anybody under 40 with grey hair? I have some myself

Do you think you have the potential to be a good stalker? oh well...

Why did you read the last book that you read? I watched film and heard it has a different ending so wanted to check it out

Have you ever cross-dressed? clothes have no gender but I drew mustaches and such 

Which sport are you the best at playing? unihokej/floorball or however it’s called

Do you know anyone who has gotten pregnant despite using contraception? possibly

What would you do if you were in that situation? I’m an asexual and I’m into girls

Are you planning on buying a house in the near future? not possible

Do you prefer on-campus classes or online classes? online

What was your favorite family vacation you went on as a kid? personal

What’s something about you that others might find unpleasant or off-putting? my skin for example (not color)

What gaming consoles do you own? I only play PC and android 

Have you ever been so sick you had to be taken to the hospital? been to ER few times

Do you know any lesbian couples? I’m in one ;)

Have you ever lived in an apartment building?  just when I was staying with my grandmother

What was the last topic you asked someone for their opinion or advice on? not sure which was last

Is your house visible on Google Street View?- barely

What’s the largest thing you currently have in your refrigerator? *shrug*

Do you know anyone who has never had a pet? I believe

Would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone? no thx

Would you take the 3 minute beatdown to be in a gang? neither Do you check your texts right away when you receive them? not every single time, it’s impossible!

Does it make you uncomfortable when you receive a compliment? sorta, I think they’re lying/want something or make fun of me (even if just slightly teasing for fun)

When you are home alone at night and hear strange noises, are you afraid someone is going to break in? I’m more “ghost” type of person hahaha

Do you wake up cranky? mhm

What is on your wrists right now? sleeves

Are you a beach, country, or city person? country or small town

Are you an official couple with the last person you kissed? we are 

What’s the greatest thing that happened to you today? ex - I got a gift and found a shirt for Nat and myself :3

How old do you think you will be when you finally have kids? -

Are you waiting for something? food

Something you do a lot? suffer

How many chances do you tend to give people before enough is enough? it’s not about the amount

What’s a fact about the last person you kissed? she likes hugs

How long have you liked the person you like? it’s a long story 

Did anyone see you kiss the last person you kissed? not our last kiss

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now? I worry

Have you ever given your ALL to someone who walked away?

Have you ever kissed the last person you texted? we kissed 

Are you one of those people who are always cold? not always but often

Do you tend to waste a lot of money? I still feel like it even tho I don’t, I thrift often but spend little for those trinkets

Did you sing at all today? może coś nuciłam, nie pamiętam, w headspace?

Would you rather be able to control the weather or control traffic? weather

Do you own any articles of clothing with skulls on it? gave it away to John

Are you faster at text messaging or typing on the computer? typing on the computer

In your opinion which is the stronger emotion: love or hate? hate

Tongue piercings - cute or trashy? trashy

When it comes to jeans: skinny, flared or boot cut? skinny

Would you rather be a star ballerina or a star break dancer? none

They say diamonds are a girls best friend; what do you say? I don’t care for diamonds

Has anybody ever told somebody one of your secrets? plenty of times

Do you get on better with funny or serious people? smth in between

Do you have mood swings around the time of the month? I don’t need period to have mood swings, it’s stereotypical!

Have your friends met the last person you kissed? aha

What if you got stuck in a lift with the last person who Facebook messaged you? we would end up having sex? jk

When/where did your last hug take place? today

Have your parents ever told you about their love lives, and any previous relationships they had before they met? kind of

Do you and your friends have any inside jokes? and with family 

When you listen to music, do you ever find that the songs affect your moods and change how you feel? no shit Sherlock!

What’s one thing about today that you didn’t like? don’t wanna talk about all that

Who is the last person that you said i love you to, besides family members? my fiancee

Would you ever go back to any of your past relationships? done

Do you still talk to the first person you kissed? we’re together again

Do you have a picture of you kissing someone? :D

What’s a cuss word you use often? there’s a whole list

Who’s the last guy you texted? dad

Have you ever not been able to get someone out of your head? this question...

Do you remember the first conversation you had with the person you have feelings for? I remember how we met

Do you believe that people talk about you behind your back? ha!

If you had twins, would you give them rhyming names? yuk

What are you listening to? Tame Impala - Let It Happen

Did you do something mean to someone today? she deserved it!

Is there anyone that you wish was IN your life who used to be? babcia...

Give us a lyric from a song you’re listening to: The truth of it is it doesn’t get better than this

Is your birthday in less than 6 months? whoops

What brings out the worst in you? better not say that out loud

How’re you feeling right now? bad

Are you afraid of the future? very

Do you believe in true love? I’m trying

Do you believe that every one has a soul-mate? not everybody

Was today a good day? should be better

What woke you up this morning? woke up on my own

Do you look people in the eye when you talk to them? I don’t 

Have you ever played naked twister? wut...

Is your hair longer than your shoulders? not yet and don’t plan to keep it that long

Would you get in trouble if you came home drunk? that would be a shock to my family (and to me)

Do you ever think about things and start to worry? 100% of the time

Are you one to get annoyed easily? that me!

Is the last person you kissed yours? we don’t own ppl...

Was it a boy or a girl to text you first today? girl

Are you scared of spiders? am not

Do you hate the last boy who talked to you? I love my parent

Do you tend to make things complicated? not on purpose

Have you ever gotten to the point where you’ve said “I’m done trying”? gqe1gIQASGCK...

Do you think things will change in the next few months? I’m afraid for worse 

Do you like when people play with your hair? it’s strange

What are you wearing right now? bluzę w czarne i białe paski, zieloną bluzkę z długimi rękawami i szare legginsy z niebieskim wzorkiem

Ever feel like you have been replaced? more than once

Would you rather write a paper or give a speech? write

Are you lying to yourself about something? thx a lot for this ask...

Is the person you last texted single? she’s with me

Do you think any of your exes will eventually want to be with you again? tha hell

If you could move away, no questions asked, where would you move to? just my own apartment

Which do you prefer, relationship or a one-night-stand? relationship

[crashdevlin]

New Romantics-8: Psychics and Spirits

New Romantics Masterlist

Author’s Note: This is a multi-chapter sequel to Wildest Dreams

Summary: y/n doesn’t know how to deal now that Dean’s back and being able to hear his emotional flailing and the self-deprecation he usually hides from the world is only adding to her confusion. Sam says he wants her safe and happy but it’s starting to feel like there’s no such thing.

Pairing(s): Sam x Reader

Word Count: 5070

Story Warnings: Smut, 18+ HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!, anal sex, oral sex (fem and male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, bloodplay, canon-appropriate character deaths, manipulation, BoyKing!Sam and Intended Queen!Reader!

Chapter Warnings: Blood Drinking, possessive!Sam, angst, jealous!Dean, mutual pining

It’s morning by the time we get to the psychic's house. I've been working to cut my thoughts off all night but I keep getting distracted by Dean's. Flashes of hellfire, thoughts of love lost with me, a hundred different ways he's trying to distract himself including reciting Zeppelin lyrics and debating the different meanings of said lyrics with himself. The man's a master of burial. Maybe I'll just echo his thoughts to keep the psychic out of my head.

Bobby knocks on the door and a tall brunette with muscular arms and piercing eyes yanks the door open and greets him with a smile. “Bobby!” She pulls him into a hug and lifts him off of his feet. Damn, she is strong for a human.

“Yeah, I am,” she says and my eyebrows shoot up. “I work out. So do you, right?”

“Um...yeah. Hi. y/n.”

She nods. “Yeah, I know. And these are the boys.”

“Sam, Dean. This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state,” Bobby introduces.

“Hey.” She’s hot. Strong. Maybe I can have some fun, get y/n outta my head. Might be as good.

“Hi,” Sam says, awkwardly. Can she hear me? Can you hear me? I sigh and roll my eyes, slightly. That’s such an idiot thing. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I was just testing it.

She makes a humming noise as she steps in front of Dean. “Mmm-mmm-mmm. Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual.”

“If you say so,” Dean responds, nodding.

“Come on in.” Pamela nods at the inside of her house and we head inside.

“So, you hear anything?” Bobby asks.

“Well, I Ouija’d my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why,” she answers.

“So, what’s next?” I ask.

“A seance, I think. See if we can see who did the deed.”

“You’re not gonna...summon the damn thing here?” Bobby says, apprehensively.

“No. I just wanna get a sneak peek at it,” she says, walking toward Bobby. “Like a crystal ball without the crystal.”

Dean watches her leave the room, eyes on her ass. Nice, tight ass. “I’m game.”

Bobby and I move to the windows, pulling the curtains closed as the psychic sets the table up for the seance. Dean asks about the tattoo on the small of her back and she responds with sexual aggression that Dean just eats up. I’m simmering with anger as I listen to their flirting and when she says “You're invited too, Grumpy,” to Sam I lose it.

“Grumpy's taken,” I spit. All eyes turn on me and I take a deep breath.

“You can't have them both, sweetheart,” Pamela whispers in my ear. “And if you don't want me in your head, maybe you should stop projecting your loss so hard, huh?”

I shake my head and exit the living room to lean against the front door. I can't do this. I can't handle all this guilt and loss and pain and shame. I can't.

“You okay, girl?”

My eyes snap to Bobby, walking out of the living room. I lick my lips and take a deep breath. “Yeah,” I lie.

“Come help me grab something outta my Chevelle.” Bobby’s tone doesn’t allow for argument. I follow him out to the beat-up car and wait. “I’ma ask again. You okay, girl?”

I lick my lips and look back at the psychic’s house. “No. This is...it’s too much, too big, I can’t...I can’t do this.”

“‘Too much, too big’ from the girl that helped us with the Seven Sins, who signed up to help Sam take down Lilith? What’s this really about?”

I sigh. “It’s Dean. And Sam. I...with them it’s...it’s complicated with them and I...I’m with Sam, now, and I think I was always supposed to be, but-”

“You wanna leave?” Bobby asks, looking into my eyes.

My lip quivers and I shake my head. “Sam doesn’t want me to leave, but…”

She just listens to whatever Sam says now? “Do you wanna leave?”

“That’d be like running. But I just...I can’t sit in there and listen to Pamela and Dean flirt with each other. I know it’s hypocritical because Dean’s had to see me and Sam together since last night, but...I can’t.”

“All right. Well, you look exhausted so why don’t you take a nap? I’m sure we can do the seance with four people.” Bobby tosses me the keys and I give him a look of gratitude. I didn’t sleep on the way here, haven’t slept since we were in Tennessee and I can’t imagine that’s helping me much.

I wake to screaming. I might not have been particularly fond of Pamela Barnes but she didn’t deserve to have her eyes burned out by whatever the hell Castiel is. Bobby follows the ambulance to the hospital and Sam, Dean and I go to lunch. Seems callous, but a girl’s gotta eat.

Sam takes a phone call to talk to Bobby, leaving Dean and me at the table. “So, that nap…” Dean starts but he cuts himself off. She was just tired. “Hell of a way to wake up, right?”

“Sure it was worse for her.”

She looks sad. “Are you okay, Boots?”

I lick my lips and look over at him. I miss him. I want him. I’m exhausted and I want to go home...but more than any of that, I’m sick to my stomach. “Yeah. I’m good,” I say as the waitress walks up.

Liar. “We’ll have three slices of the blueberry pie.” She writes it down and walks away as Sam walks up. “What’d Bobby say?”

“Pam’s stable...and out of ICU.”

“And blind because of us,” Dean continues.

“And we still have no clue who we’re dealing with,” Sam finishes.

“That’s not entirely true,” I respond.

“No?” Sam asks, turning to look at me with his eyebrows up in that ‘do you even know what you’re talking about’ way.

“You got a name, right? Castiel, or whatever. A name’s a powerful thing,” I say, tapping the table.

Dean’s eyes light up a bit and it’s beautiful to feel the bit of hope that pulses from him. “She’s right, with the right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him, bring him right to us.”

“You guys are crazy. Absolutely not,” Sam argues. Stop encouraging this idea. It’s insane.

“We’ll work him over. I mean, after what he did?” Dean’s still on it, even as I back off of the idea.

“Pam took a peek at him and her eyes burned out of her skull, and you want to have a face-to-face?” Sam bitches.

“You got a better idea?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. We followed some demons to town, right?” Sam starts.

So? “Okay?”

“So, we go find them. Someone’s gotta know something about something,” Sam finishes as the waitress returns with three plates of pie. “Thanks.”

She sets the plates down and flops down in the chair opposite me. Dean scoffs and smirks at her. “You anglin’ for a tip?”

“I’m sorry. Thought you were looking for us,” she says and her eyes flood with black. All three of us tense as we look around. The cook and the man at the counter are demons, too, and the bigger one stands to lock and block the door. “Dean. To hell and back. Aren’t you a lucky duck?” the demon at the table with us says.

Lucky? Sure. “That’s me.”

“So you get to just stroll out of the Pit, huh? Tell me. What makes you so special?” the bitch asks.

“I like to think it’s because of my perky nipples,” he jokes, but a flash of crisis runs through him. Nothing. Not a damn thing. I deserve to be down there. “I don’t know. Wasn’t my doing.” I don’t deserve it. “I don’t know who pulled me out.”

“Right. You don’t,” she bites out, disbelieving.

“No. I don’t.”

“Lying’s a sin, you know.”

The bitch doesn’t know who pulled me out, either.  “I’m not lying. But I’d like to find out, so if you wouldn’t mind enlightening me, Flo…”

“Mind your tone with me, boy. I’ll drag you back to Hell, myself,” she threatens and Sam and I both move to attack, but Dean puts his hand up to stop us.

“No, you won’t.”

“No?”

“No. Because if you were you would have done it already. Fact is, you don’t know who cut me loose. And you're just as spooked as we are. And you're looking for answers.” The demon looks away from Dean, a definite feeling of ‘I’m not going to agree with you even though you’re right’ radiating off of her. “Well, maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit. Or, uh, Godzilla. Or some big bad boss demon. I'm guessing at your pay grade that they don't tell you squat. Because whoever it was, they want me out. And they're a lot stronger than you.” The demon swallows, heavily. “So go ahead. Send me back. But don't come crawling to me when they show up on your front doorstep with some Vaseline and a fire hose.”

“I’m gonna reach down your throat and rip out your lungs,” the demon threatens, but Dean just smirks.

He’s not even thinking as he leans forward, looking right in its face, and slaps his right hand against her cheek. I gasp as she just sits there and takes it. She just glares at him. So he slaps her again and all she manages is to sit there looking flustered. “That’s what I thought. Let’s go.” We stand and I focus on the demon blocking the door as Dean pulls out a ten dollar bill and drops it to the table. “For the pie.”

It’s not until we’re heading out the door that Dean realizes how bad that could have gone, his thoughts becoming a jumble of anxious energy and stress, fear of going back to Hell swirling everything together and making me almost nauseated.

“Holy crap, that was close!” Dean says as we cross the street outside of the diner.

“We’re not just going to leave them in there, are we, Dean?”

“Well, yeah, there’s three of them, probably more, and we’ve only got one knife between us.” Not a winnable fight.

“We’ve been killing a lot more demons than that lately.” I roll my eyes at Sam. Because of course that’s not suspicious.

“Not anymore. The smarter brother’s back in town.”

“Dean, we’ve gotta take ‘em. They are dangerous.”

“They’re scared,” Dean argues. “Okay? Scared of whatever had the juice to yank me out. We’re dealing with a bad mofo here. One job at a time.”

“That bitch just sat there, Sam. They obviously aren’t-” I start, but Sam cuts me off with a glare.

We’re gonna go back tonight and exorcise them. Sam thinks. I shake my head. Did you just tell me ‘no’?

We can talk about it later, Sam. I think back.

We can talk about it now. What, Dean’s back and now you don’t want to listen to what I have to say?

I groan and Dean turns to me. “You okay, y/n?”

I nod. “Yeah. Totally,” I say climbing into the back of the Impala. I’m not going to fight with you telepathically. It already hurts my head. We’ll talk when we get back to the motel.

Sam sneers at me all the way back to the Astoria, making Dean wonder where the sudden aggression is coming from. Dean heads into the room but Sam pulls me into a housekeeping closet down the hall. “What the fuck is your problem, y/n?” he growls, pushing me into the shelf holding all the cleansers.

“What, am I not allowed to agree with Dean? I’m not allowed my own opinions and thoughts? Just because I’m your queen, I have to fall in line with everything you say?” I snap.

“There are dangerous demons right there in town. We could have pulled them, we would have pulled them, if Dean hadn’t been standing right there with us!” He leans over me, trying to intimidate me. A shiver runs down my spine at the display, but I don’t back down.

“So? He’s right, Sam! They aren’t a danger right now! We have to figure out what-”

“They aren’t a danger right now, but what about tomorrow? What about yesterday? They’re demons! They don’t deserve-”

“So is Ruby!” I whisper furiously. “You let her live! You let her have your cock. You let her have-”

Sam’s hand shoots to my neck, wrapping easily around the column of my throat. “You belong to me. You’re mine, y/n. If I want Ruby to lick your cunt, she will. Now, I’m going to-”

Sam’s back hits the door before he can tighten his grip or finish his sentence. I hold him in place against the wood with my powers. “I think you forget who the fuck I am, Sam,” I say, words even and cold as they leave my mouth. “I guess I’ve forgotten, myself.” I step closer to him. “So much guilt over the blood and powers and outliving Dean...both of us got so caught up in it, that and the need for revenge.”

He’s seething at me. “You’re going to leave me,” he bites out.

“No, Sam. I’m your queen. But I’m not your possession.” I sigh and reach up to cup his cheek. “I need to be able to disagree with you. I need to be able to have my own ideas. I have to be able to agree with Dean without you freaking out on me.”

Sam takes a deep breath. “I understand. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

I release him and he slouches, pulling me into a hug and kissing the top of my head. I melt into it. For all the possessive bullshit Sam thinks and does, he’s still got a complete mastery over the comforting embrace. “Let’s go hit the books, Sam.”

Dean thinks about the fact that he’s glad Sam and I have stopped with the PDA as we walk into the room and when we start to get sleepy, I make sure to lie down as close to the edge away from Sam as possible.

Wait, are they fighting? Dean thinks as he looks over at me from the sofa bed. Are they fighting ‘cause of me? Shit, I don’t want them fighting ‘cause of me.

“Good night, boys. Don’t stay up too late with those books, huh?” I whisper as I let my eyes drift closed.

“Sounds like a sexy night to me,” Dean responds. Sam just nods.

This time I wake to radio and television static. Dean wakes just after me, rubbing at his eye with the backs of his fingers. As soon as he sees the television on, his mind flashes to a gas station in the middle of nowhere, a sound that shattered glass…Castiel. He rolls off the bed and grabs the sawed-off next to the pull-out bed and I pull my pistol out from under my pillow and roll to stand next to him. 12:30am and the right side of the bed is empty. Where the fuck is Sam?

Dean asks the same question in his mind, but doesn’t dwell on it as he moves toward the door with his shotgun raised. A high-pitched noise rings through the room and Dean and I both flinch, then cover our ears. As glass starts to break throughout the room, windows and mirrors both fracturing with the intensity of the sound, I hear a voice. Or maybe it’s not a voice. Maybe it’s just a feeling of something loud and powerful calling Dean’s name.

I don’t have time to worry about it because the window glass starts bursting, raining down on us as we drop our weapons. Dean looks up at the mirror on the ceiling and grabs me, shielding me from the shards as they start to fall. We fall to the ground, glass slicing our forearms and hands as he lays over me to protect me. I slap my hands over his ears as he holds himself up over me. Fuck! No, she- He shakes his head to try to get my hands off of him, but quickly loses his train of thought as the mirrors on the wall start blowing. I hold onto consciousness just long enough for Bobby to break down the door and shout Dean’s name.

I come to as Dean and Bobby set me on the back seat of Bobby’s Chevelle. “What the hell were you thinking?” Dean growls at me as Bobby pulls out of the parking lot.

“That you couldn’t cover your own ears while you were shielding me from the mirror?” I groan.

“Yeah, and you couldn’t cover your ears while covering mine!”

"Stop being mad about me saving your brain from liquefying," I say, sitting up and looking at him. He's trying not think about how he doesn't deserve me risking my brain for his, but obviously he's not burying that well. "My eggs can stand up better to scrambling than yours, Winchester. Don't worry about it." I reach down and grab a rag off the floorboard and start to wipe blood from his face.

He gives me this look of pure adoration and loss as he grabs my free hand and starts looking over the superficial wounds there. This isn't fair. Why'd she have to listen to me about Sam? Why couldn't she have been stubborn and waited for me? Oh right 'cause you're a disaster, Dean. You're lucky she spent the time she spent with you. "We're gonna have to clean these, but they shouldn't scar."

“I’ll be fine, Dean. Don’t worry about it.” I hand him the rag and sit back against the seat. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. He doesn’t hear me, his ears still ringing, but Bobby does. He looks in the rear view mirror to see us.

“How you doin’, kid?”

“Aside from the church bells ringing in my head? Peachy,” Gotta call Sam. Dean thinks before pulling out his cell phone and dialing Sam’s number.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“Couldn’t sleep, went to get a burger,” Sam says. It’s a lie. I think he went to the diner. I’m sure he’s with Ruby.

“In my car?”

“Force of habit, sorry. What are you doing up?”

“Well, uh, Bobby’s back. The three of us are going to grab a beer,” Dean says, holding up a finger to silence my protests at the lie.

“All right, well, uh, spill some for me, huh?”

“Done. Catch you later,” Dean says before hanging up.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell him?” Bobby snaps.

“Because he’d just try to stop us,” Dean responds leaning forward to look at Bobby.

“From what?”

“From summoning the thing,��� I answer, knowing exactly where he’s going with it. I lick my lips as he nods. “So, what, we face the thing head-on?”

“Exactly.”

“You cain’t be serious!” Bobby practically shouts.

“As a heart attack,” Dean confirms, smiling. Let’s get this shit over with. “It’s high noon, baby.”

“Well, we don’t know what it is. It could be a demon, i-it could be anything,” Bobby argues.

“That’s why we gotta be ready for anything,” He pulls Ruby’s knife and shows it to Bobby. “We got the big-time magic knife, you’ve got an arsenal in the trunk, three hunters to deal with it…”

Gonna get us all killed. Bobby thinks. “This is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t agree more, but what other choice do we have? Boots and I almost died back there.”

“We could choose life,” Bobby spits.

“Bobby, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it’s after me. Well, I’ve got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we can make our stand.”

“Dean, we could use Sam on this,” Bobby tries.

“Nah, he’s better off where he is.”

I roll my eyes at that. He’s with Ruby. Of course he’s better off there than with us having windows explode on us or summoning whatever the fuck we’re about to summon. We don’t even know what it is and Dean’s thinking about whatever it is dragging him back down and I don’t understand why he suddenly feels so undeserving of something so basic as life.

Bobby finds up an empty metal barn and starts to put up runes and talismans to trap the thing. Dean and I start emptying the trunk of all of Bobby’s weapons and books. On the last trip, I put my hand on his shoulder and turn him to look at me. “Dean, are you okay?”

His mind flashes to an image of kissing me, pulling me into his arms and pushing me against the side of Bobby’s car. He chases the thought away with the memory of me and Sam kissing in the motel. “Yeah. I’m good. Let’s just get this done,” he says, leaning into the trunk to grab the last set of books.

“Dean, wait a minute, please.” He sighs and turns to sit on the edge of the trunk, looking up at me. “I’m sorry.” It’s all I can think to say, honestly. I can’t explain why, I can’t convey the amount of pain I’m in at his pain, so I just apologize.

Dean bites his lip and looks away from me. “You don’t have to be sorry, Boots. Never apologize for bein’ happy.”

“What if I’m not?” Why am I doing this? Why am I speaking? This is a betrayal, pure and simple. I am betraying Sam by saying it...but fuck, Sam said he wanted me safe and happy and, right now, I’m neither of those things.

Don’t tempt me. God, don’t fucking tempt me. “Y/n, you can’t say that. I mean, you’re...you’re with Sam and he’s obviously kept you happy enough to stay with him for all these months.”

“Sam and I needed each other, Dean, because you were gone. But you’re...you’re not gone, anymore.”

Dean stands and looks down at me. “You’re better with Sam. You’ve been with him for four fuckin’ months. You’re happy. Right now, you’re confused because I just came back from Hell and everything’s weird, but you’re happy with Sam. Just...stay with Sam.”

I close my eyes and nod. “Yeah. I’m just confused. I’m gonna go help Bobby.”

“Good idea.”

I help Bobby put the finishing touches on his traps and Dean sets up every weapon he can think to use and then Bobby and I speak the Latin summoning spell and...nothing happens. We wait...and wait...and wait, Dean and I avoiding looking at each other, Bobby wondering what to do about the tension in the air. Eventually, Dean jumps up on one of the tables and Bobby jumps up on the other. I pace by the entrance to the barn.

“You sure you did the ritual right?” Dean asks. I can feel Bobby’s indignation from across the barn. “Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?” It’s almost on cue that the siding and roof start to rattle. I rush toward the back of the barn, shotgun held chest-high. Fuckin’ finally! “Wishful thinking, but maybe it’s just the wind.”

I sigh. “Not fuckin’ likely.”

The door pushes open, the beams we used to hold it closed splitting in half like they’re nothing. A man with wild hair and a business suit with a trenchcoat over it walks in, but it’s not a man. No way is this thing a man. The light bulbs shatter in the fixtures over his head as he moves closer, sprinkling glass over him and sending sparks through the air. The creature doesn’t flinch.

He walks through the traps, doesn’t even acknowledge our salt rounds, or the actual bullets from my pistol, so Dean picks back up Ruby’s magic knife as it gets closer. “Who are you?” Dean demands.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” Castiel responds and Dean thinks about the handprint on his arm. Castiel’s handprint.

“Yeah. Thanks for that.” Dean plunges the knife into Castiel’s chest and it doesn’t make a bit of difference. Castiel looks down at the knife and just nonchalantly pulls it out and drops it to the fucking floor. Bobby and I attack, but Castiel grabs our weapons and pulls them from our hands, dropping them to the floor with the knife. He presses two fingers of each hand to my and Bobby’s foreheads and everything goes dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Because it's impossible! I refuse to believe a goddamn angel-"

"He definitely wasn't anything we've seen before, kid. The way he came in here, shrugged off everything we ever-"

"Why is she still out?!"

I groan in response to Dean's words and go to sit up, eyes refusing to open. "I'm okay."

"Bobby's been awake for twenty minutes. We were gettin' worried, sweetheart."

"Guess I was more tired than the old man. Really should start the yoga again. Now, what was this about an angel?" I ask, finally getting my eyes to cooperate.

"Nothing. I'm not even gonna entertain-" Dean starts, but I get lost in his memories. A flash of lightning, the shadow of black wings against the wall of the barn, an awed feeling laced with fear. “Right, and why would an angel rescue me from Hell?” “Good things do happen, Dean.” “Not in my experience.” “What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved.” This creature, this thing that said it’s an angel, saw right into Dean just like I do.

“For fuck’s sake, Dean, what else could it be?” I snap. He’s so deep in denial that I don’t know what else to do.

“That’s what I wanna know! There’s gotta be something else that coulda done this and we need to get back to Bobby’s house where the rest of the damn books are and figure this shit out!”

I sigh, looking to Bobby who just shakes his head. He’s not prepared to continue this argument. “Fine, but you get to call Sam and tell him we summoned the thing and you don’t believe what it told you and we’re back on the fuckin’ research again.”

Whoa. Dean swallows heavily as I stomp away from him. “Boots!”

“Call Sam, Dean. Now!” I demand, heading out of the barn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you leaving?” Sam asks as I pull my duffel out of the back seat of Bobby’s car.

“Because home is three hundred miles West and I haven’t been there all summer,” I answer flippantly. Dean and Bobby are watching from the library window and i’m trying to not make a big deal of it.

“Why are you really leaving?” Sam demands in that ‘I own you’ voice.

I turn to him and lick my lips, maneuvering us so that our onlookers can’t see my face. “You left me alone in our bed to go do something I opposed with a bitch I hate! You weren’t there when the room fuckin’ exploded on your brother and me. You weren’t there when this…this thing walked in, all power and grace. You weren’t there because you were with Ruby,” I growl up at him. “And now there are angels on the playing field, Sam. Dean’s back from Hell, there are angels involved and we’ve been drinking demon blood. I need a few days to get my head on right and I can’t do that here.”

“Why not? Because De-”

“Because you make me forget who I am!” I shake my head and look up into his eyes. “And if you can’t stop bringing everything back to Dean, I’m not going to be okay. Maybe you need to get your head on right about Dean being back, too. Some time might help with that.”

Sam’s face softens and he puts his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

I nod. “I’m still leaving.” I step away and sling the strap of my duffel over my head. I wave at Bobby and Dean and head out of the salvage yard.

I make it home in seven hours. Hitchhiking is easy for a woman, especially one like me. I walk the two miles down my dirt road, listening to the birds chirping at me, wondering when exactly my whole life flew off its axis.

Azazel. When he showed up in my dreams way back when I was still a teen, that’s when my life started going crazy. Fuck. Why couldn’t he have just left me the fuck alone?

“Well, that’s an awful big pity party you’re throwing, y/n,” a familiar voice says just as I enter my house. I turn to the sound and gasp. My father is sitting on my couch.

“Dad?” I squeak.

“You remember me? Wow, I thought maybe the blood you’ve been drinking took your memory. Why else would you neglect to tell me about Azazel and the war he started?” He stands, moving closer, and I freeze. Every piece of my hunter training is telling me to grab salt, grab iron, do something, but...it’s my dad. I can’t move against him. “The war that got me killed. Killed by a demon just like the ones you’ve been spreading your whore legs for.”

My jaw drops and tears well up in my eyes. “Dad, I-”

“They ripped me to pieces, y/n. They tortured me in ways you can’t even imagine...while you were calling a demon ‘Daddy’ and getting high on its blood.”

The guilt I feel is incomparable. It wasn’t bad enough that the demons targeted him because of me, I had to call Crowley ‘Daddy’, too, didn’t I? Tears roll down my cheeks and my lip trembles as Dad suddenly flickers in front of me and wraps his fingers around my throat. “Da-ad…” I struggle out.

“Don’t worry, y/n. I’m sure they’ll let you into Heaven, even with demon blood flowing through your abomination veins. They’ve let-”

A loud bang echoes in my ears just as they start to ring with pressure and I pull in a frantic gasp of air as Dad disappears. I turn my head to my kitchen entrance, where Crowley is standing with one of my shotguns. “Well, yer gonna have to break that Devil’s Trap now, aren’t you?”

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[jo-the-schmo]

Red, Dead, Reflections Ch.5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4

A/N: DEAR JESUS FINALLY HOLY SHIT this too way too long. I’ve been super busy and getting sick a lot these past few weeks. This chapter is a little lackluster but something is really better than nothing. I hope this is good enough in any case! Have a good read! Love you!

Summary:  At the age of 23, you and your pseudo-family perform a heist gone wrong, leading you into a dangerous position. Discover your own history, the story of those around you, and gain new relationships along the way in this (sorta) choose your own adventure.

Warnings: Explicit language, violence, alcohol, possible genitalia mentions, alcohol, not much else I think?

Word count: 6000+

Tags!: @lennysvmmers @zoilalove213 @eccentricc-catt

Choose Your Words Wisely 

“When do you think we’ll head into town?” You readjusted the strap of your mask attached to your belt loops.

“Why you askin’ me? I ain’t your keeper.”

“I mean, you sorta are. I don’t have a horse and Dutch said he ‘doesn’t want me getting lost’. I don’t wanna annoy you, but we’ve been here for like, a week, and done absolutely nothing.” He sighed at your comment, somewhat in agreement.

“Uncle was sayin’ somethin’ about headin’ out, but I haven’t seen that bastard in hours.” Arthur complained through slightly gritted teeth as he hefted a bag of feed over his shoulder. “If ya find him and see if he’s ready, I wouldn’t mind goin’, We’re running out of coffee anyway…” You stopped following him.

“Got it, I’ll see where he’s hiding.” You pivoted to the side and walked towards the main camp area. Bill was prodding the fire in boredom. “Hey Bill, do you know where Uncle is at?”

“Prob’ly asleep or drunk, the old loon.” He croaked.

“Well, I figured that much.” That was usually what Uncle seemed to be doing. You weren’t one to judge, but he was a recluse one for sure. Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen the Reverend in a few days…where’s he at?

“I know Charles and Javier got tired of waiting for him, so they just went out a few hours ago.”

“Okay, thanks, Bill.” You don’t talk to Bill that much, he just didn’t seem to enjoy your company for some reason, or anyone’s company for that matter. You kept looking around, trying to figure out where he could be. If I was sleeping off a hangover, where would I be?

“James! My boy! Come here for a moment, would ya?” A deep, modulated voice called out from somewhere behind you. You turned and saw Dutch standing in front of his tent. You didn’t respond vocally, you’ve found you don’t need to. As long as you’re visually enacting the request, he took that as answer enough. Dutch was a watchful man. You took a few steps toward him and you noticed Molly wasn’t around. She was usually hanging out in here. Actually, I’ve never seen Molly NOT in here.

“What’s up, Dutch?”

“Come inside, young man. Have a seat.” He placed his palm on the space between your shoulder blades and guided you inside the fabricated enclosure. Dutch had the biggest space of the group, which always bothered you in a weird way. Everyone except him, Arthur, and you slept on the ground. He moved you towards a chair, which you took a seat in out of politeness. You were starting to get nervous. Dutch had never really wanted to speak one on one with you before, much less take this approach to starting a conversation.

“What’s this about?” You tried to keep your voice as neutral as possible. He stayed standing, even pacing slowly across the floor about two feet away from you. The cuffs of his white shirt had a few rust colored stains.

“Nothin’ but a few questions, my friend.” It was subtle, but you could tell he was trying to take on a slightly intimidating presence. It wasn’t malicious or anything like that, which only made you more curious. “I’d like to know what you’re still doin’ here.” That statement took you aback.

“I’m confused, what do you me-“

“Why are you still here?” He cut you off. You took a moment to consider his question, there was a reason he wasn’t letting you get an explanation. The severity and weight of your potential answer only reflected in the sunken depths of his pupils. He looked exhausted.

“Because you’ve allowed me to.”  

“Ah, I see…” He stopped all his movements and bent down slightly to get a closer look at you. His hand rested against the back of the chair you were sitting. “I wanna trust you, my boy. You saved my life up on that mountain, I won’t soon forget that. Do you know what my family is about, West?”

“Living.”

“That’s right. Now, what are you about, James?” For a moment, Dutch’s face wasn’t his anymore. His hair was longer, light brown, his face was slim with a messy stubble. It was Austin.

“Why are you here, Y/N?”

“What?”

“You’re safe, you’re all patched up, why haven’t you left me yet?” His eyes looked much kinder back then. So did his smile.

“Because…I don’t want to? You saved me.”

“People save people all the time and don’t follow them across a state.” He took a step closer. “What’s your deal? What do you want?”

“I…” You couldn’t be entirely sure, but you felt it. “I want the world to be better… I want the world to let me survive. I want to live!”

“Good answer.” You could almost audibly pick up the voice shift from Austin to Dutch. It took you a moment to process the fact that you had answered his question. “Sorry I took on that rather rude tone. Had to test ya, ma boy!” He laughed heartily, his earlier façade melting away.

“What was that about?”

“I wanted to see if you were up for a bit of a request.”

“A request?” His smile warmed at your question.

“Well, Hosea and I have been talkin’. You’ve been a mighty fine help around here and, well, we ourselves are headin’ out west in search of land of our own. So, we wanted to ask if you’d stick around with us until you made it back home.” You weren’t sure why the gesture surprised you, in a way you had already been integrated into their lives, they treated you as one of their own. But it still left you stunned. “Hosea says you aren’t sure if you’ll ever see your friends again, but I promise we will do everything in our power to keep you safe until then. What d’ya say, son?”

“It’d be an honor…” Your response was what astonished you the most. You felt it in your gut, a sense of comradery. Dutch patted your left shoulder, signaling for you to stand.

“That’s a good man right there!” He walked you outside the tent. “Just remember one thing, my friend.” He turned you around to give you one last bit of aid. “Do good to us, and we’ll do good to you. You seem like a nice one, but it never hurts to remind.” You instinctively walked away but his words rang in your mind. Do good to us, and we’ll do to you, huh? Charles warning would come into question every once in a while. The only person to know your secrete was Hosea.

If anyone else found out, they might tell Dutch. And if Dutch finds out, then so will Micah. At this point the only reason you still kept your secret was to save your hide. If Micah was really as much of a bastard as you’d been led to believe, if he got his hands on some information of that magnitude, you’d be dead in the next hour. You sighed with your head rolled back toward the sky. How could things keep getting more complicated?

Shockingly, time skipping wasn’t as strange of a concept anymore. You may not have done much research on it, but Gina sure had. She was a big-time nerd. If you really had jumped backwards 120 years, there was nothing you could directly do to change it. But, one thing you did know was that the universe, if having the capability to do this, would eventually find a way to put you back. A trigger was what pulled to get you here, and at some point, the space of time would have to set you back with another trigger. That trigger was certainly your previous death, but there was no telling if this new trigger would be the same. And let’s just say, dying wasn’t exactly an easy risk to take here. All you can do is bide your time and hope it comes soon.

“Found him!” You heard Arthur holler from the side, followed by the grumble of the old man getting to his feet. You guided yourself to the two by the cart, Arthur standing around with his hands on his hips looking like a scolding mother.

“That’s a rather odd place to nap, Uncle.” You pointed out.

“Welp, you know what I say? A man who can sleep on any surface, has the peace of mind to be doin’ so.” He dusted off the back of his pants.

“Interesting…” You supposed he was right, in both senses that could be interpreted. “Are you ready to head to town?” You asked the both of them but only Uncle responded.

“Yep, I gotta head down to the general store to get some supplies. Was you wanting to tag along?” Before you could respond, a familiar feminine voice bubbled behind you.

“Can we come too?” It was Karen with Tilly and Mary-Beth in tow.

“We been cooped up here for far too long! We need some fun!” Mary-Beth said in her almost song-like tone.

“Well, can Miss Grimshaw spare you?” Upon Arthur asking that, they all groaned in disdain.

“Can Miss Grimshaw spare you? Come on, Arthur! Three young, healthy women want you to take ‘em out robbin’ and you’re worried about house chores!” Karen argued while Tilly crossed her arms and shot Arthur her signature annoyed eyebrow raise.

“When you’re right, you’re right, I guess. Everyone hop on.” Arthur and Uncle took the lead and got in the front seat, Arthur at the reins.

“Wait, did you see if Sadie wanted to go? She said she’s been itchin’ to get out for a bit.” You asked while Karen climbed into the back.

“I asked her, but Ol’Pearson was there saying she had too much work to do. We’ll get her next time.” Tilly assured you. A twinge of disappointment flared in your chest, but you reluctantly followed the ladies into the cart and sat next to Karen. Arthur didn’t waste time to get a move on. You saw John being passed by the cart, on guard duty. You hadn’t gotten many chances to talk to him, but it was good to see him on his feet. Apparently, he had gotten attacked by wolves while you were unconscious, which was crazy. The whole camp was out of sight no more than a minute later. They really picked a good spot, huh? The cart makes small clunk and crunch noises when rolling over the dry soil path.

“So…James?” Karen smirked dubiously.

“Yes?” You rested your elbows on your knees, leaning forward. Which you soon realized was a mistake, because now Tilly and Mary-Beth are leaning in close and Karen is hovering just above.

“What’s it like in California?” They all actually seemed interested in what you had to say, making you feel both nervous and comforted.

“Well…It’s hot, most of the time. Uh…we get a lot of fires, and they can’t be dealt with fast enough. Earthquakes, those happen. But there’s beaches! Those can be fun on the right kind of day.”

“What kind of day is that?” Mary-Beth followed.

“Let’s see…” You thought for a moment on how to describe it. “It really just depends, I guess. Some days the beach is good for having some good fun. Messin’ around and all that. But if you go in the evening, it’s a lot less hectic and more serene. People like it for different reasons.” You lost your train of thought for a moment. Miguel liked the beach, particularly in the wake of twilight. The sounds always brought comfort for him, the lull of the sea. You were pretty sure he had mentioned at some point that his dad used to work down by the beach before he died. The sound of something snapping and the curse of a man brought you out of your haze.

Arthur slowed the cart and you noticed another person’s carriage or whatever was sitting still, and a white horse was running off to the other side of the road. You were quick to slide down the long seat and hop out the back. Your boots hit the dirt with a quick thud. Arthur had the cart in a near stop, his eyes following you as you moved yourself around to where the man was. For the brief second that you caught it, there was a conflict behind his eyes.

“Are you gonna help him, Arthur?” Karen verbally jostled. He seemed to chose a side, opting to follow you.

“Do you need any help, sir?” You questioned the older man who was tightening the straps on the horse still attached. He looked frustrated but thankfully relieved that you offered.

“Would you please go get my horse? He ran off over there.” He pointed out toward the base of a hill with some trees where the white horse you noticed before was shifting around frantically. Arthur surveyed the situation.

“Alright, I’ll go to the front, try to get ‘em to calm down. You ease your way over from the side and get his reins, lead ‘em over.” He scratched at his beard, which saw was shorter since you started paying attention. “Got it?”

“Got it.” He moved first, you going diagonally behind him. His steps were slow, methodical. It was always strange to see him act so gentle. Maybe you were just being nosey or over-analyzing him, but Arthur always seemed like he put on a tough guy persona. His demeanor went through shifts that you recognized easily, they were the same for you. The way his posture softened, his voice soothed, his eyes rounding down at the bottom. You’d only caught it a few times, and you wondered if anyone else ever paid enough attention to notice that. You could just be projecting, or acting way too creepy. Either way, it was just something you caught on to.

“Easy…” His voice mulled, accent rolling gently. “Easy there…” The horse was still fidgeting but at least it wasn’t running around anymore. “That’s it…” You inched closer to the animal staring down at Arthur with big, black eyes. The grass squished under your soles but was near silent to everyone else. Until you heard a small snap. You’d stepped on a twig. The attention of both sets of eyes was on you now. The horse shifted to its back hooves, letting out a fearful wail. You threw your hands up and froze.

“Woah there!” You exclaimed, knowing if you did this wrong you could easily get trampled. “Hiya…” You kept your voice delicate, which you weren’t exactly worried about in the moment. The horse breathed heavily and twitched through its snout. You lowered your posture, seeming less offensive. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be scared…” You inched a little closer to test the waters. Though the creature seemed to still be on edge, it appeared to be unphased by your new closeness. You kept going, until you felt the sharp breaths against your cheek. “You’re alright, buddy.” Your fingertips met the smooth fur of the horse’s neck, petting it reassuringly. It accepted your touch, and let Arthur take hold of its reins.

“You uh…” Arthur turns away from you, beginning to walk as you continue to sooth the horse. You were unable to gauge his expression. “You did really good with- with all that.” He let out a fake cough in the middle of that sentence. “You have experience with horses? I’ve seen you ride, not very well but still.”

“Eh, a little. Not very much.”

“Well, you got mighty lucky then, boy.” He remarked.

“Woooooo! Nice job you two!” You heard Tilly call, followed by the assured chants of the other two women. Arthur surrendered the leather straps to the older man.

“Thank ya, good sirs. You’ve done a good deed today.” The old man smiled approvingly.

“I just did it to impress the women, no thanks needed.” Sure, you did, Arthur.

“It was no trouble. Have safe travels, mister.” You waved him off as you changed your direction back to the cart, joining the ladies once more. Everyone waited until you all were out of earshot of the man and back on track to Valentine.

“That was real kind of you boys.” Mary-Beth grinned with a dreamy tone.

“See, Arthur? You got a heart! Unlike this old lizard.” Karen pointed up at Uncle.

“Lizards have hearts!” He remarked with offense.

“Honestly, if you three prob’ly hadn’t been there, I’da prob’ly robbed him.” Arthur corrected. All three of the women rolled their eyes.

“And I didn’t know you were so gentle, James. Not with the stories I’ve heard.” Mary-Beth was clearly trying to lead you in, and in that she had succeeded.

“What stories?”

“Micah talkin’ out of his ass. Normal stuff.” Karen reassured you.

“He’s got a brother out in California, says he’s heard of your little posse.” Tilly explains. “Says you were traded off to the O’Driscolls. Probably with us to try and get your friends back.”

“Pardon my French, but that’s horseshit.” You cut to the chase. It didn’t seem that any of them believed Micah’s lies, but they clearly wanted to hear your input. “Micah doesn’t know a damn thing about me, or my family. It’s literally not possible.” You felt yourself instinctually grip the mask bound to your hip. You took a deep breath through the nose. “I don’t know what his problem is with me. I haven’t done anything to him.” Tilly noticed the tenseness in your hand and appeared to make a mental note of it.

“Micah’s a bit like an infection. Likes to get under your skin and make ya sick.” Mary-Beth spoke knowingly.

“He’s hard to look at too.” Karen chortled. Arthur did his usual half laugh, half grunt.

“I’m surprised none y’all invited Molly with this kind of talk. Only person that hates that bastard more than me is prob’ly her.”

“Oh no, Miss O’Shea is far too high and mighty for the likes of us. She’s a society lady now.” You recognized the tone Karen held as contempt with a hint of mockery. The stench of a barn suddenly hit your nostrils.

“That’s sheep alright!” You cough from the sudden shock.

“You a city boy, James?” Uncle questions.

“Can’t really be much of city boy if I don’t live anywhere, huh?”

“Fair enough.”

The cart rounded the corner, exposing semi-busy streets. Everything was a little dirty, but not in a rundown sort of way. Women were wearing long dresses and skirts, most with their hair covered. And near the same could be said for the men except with pants, not skirts. The cart pulled down the main street and turned into a small clearing between what looked like a big stables and a small building still under construction. You sighed, rubbing your temples. Why does this shit gotta happen to me? The Great Depression has arrived early, I fucking guess. You pushed the knowledge you’d had for a while into the back of your mind and got out of the cart to help the girls down.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the general store and get some things. Arthur, James, you come with me.” Uncle instructed.

“We’re gonna see what trouble we can stir up. There’s bound to be some dumbasses around here. Just imagine we’re in Paris, girls.” Karen lead the women back down the street and you followed behind Arthur. You heard fragments of his conversation with Uncle. Something about Uncle being called the ‘one-shot kid’ back when he was younger and him being Arthur’s third favorite parasite. You were still reeling a bit, so you mostly zoned out. Focusing was always harder when you were having your tenth existential crisis this month. The trip was fairly quick. You only saw Arthur pick up some coffee grounds and a chocolate bar. I didn’t peg him for a sweet-tooth. Uncle got a bottle of something, that’s all you ended up noticing. You opted to just buy some food and had enough money to buy an extra pair of pants. You were tired of wearing the same pants every single day. Even if you were used to it, you happily took the chance to have a spare pair and finally be able to wash the other ones.

After that whole point of your trip was over, you sat beside Arthur on the bench outside, deciding not to drink anymore after tasting how strong the booze really were. At least one of you should be fully sober for this trip. Designated Driver for a real one. One Drink Y/N, they call me. You rested the side of your foot against your knee and leaned back against the wall, getting comfortable.

“Y’know what you outta get? A hat.” Arthur suggested.

“A hat? Why?”

“You look young when yer not wearin’ one. That’s why most people think yer a kid.”

“Really? That’s why? That’s really stupid.” Arthur shrugged his shoulders.

“Maybe so, but it’s true. We should pick you up one sometime soon.” I’m gonna look like an idiot. Arthur and Uncle shared another swig while you rhythmically tapped at the beak on your mask. The two men continued on with a conversation, mostly consisting of Arthur being annoyed, while you sat in silence. An eerie sensation crawled up the left side of your face. Glancing around, it didn’t take long to notice the cause. A black hat quickly retreating behind a wall. You turned your head to the right, pretending to search for something near the Hotel.

You felt it again.

You were being watched. They were either spying or trying to examine you. You tapped the side of Arthur’s knee with the back of your hand to get his attention.

“Hey Rabid Man, I’m gonna go take a look around. I’ll be right back.”

“Ya sound like you’re tryna ask for permission.” He raised a brow, eyes scrutinizing your face.

“Nah, just lettin’ you know. There’s a black hat I need to check out.” You over enunciated the phrase black hat. “Because it seems to be taking a heavy interest in me.” He seemed to at least partially catch your drift. You stood up with a walking step, longer strides than you’re used to. You saw a staircase on the side of the hotel when you first parked.

Passing by the butcher and cutting around his stand, you took a confident gallop up the stairs. You’re meant to be here, this is like second nature. The wood creaked softly beneath you before rounding the white and blue painted corner. Your sight grazed over the area you saw the hat duck away to. Prepare for trouble and make it double, I guess. You ducked down behind a crate and peeked out the side.

There were two men, one walking over to the other. What are you doing out here? Besides being creepy, I mean. The one who had been watching you was pointing back towards Arthur and Uncle, he seemed to be interested in the little group. He was blond under the hat, the other guy looked grey with a bald spot. You assumed they were discussing the men sitting at the bench by how hush-hush they acted. Not that you’d be able to hear them from this distance, you could just tell by their demeanor. You could smell the suspicion from a mile away.

For a moment you debated what you should do. If they were willing to spy, who’s to say they won’t try and follow your tracks? You and Arthur would get blamed for sure. If they’re O’Driscolls, then that’s only add acid to the rain. You didn’t need any more issues than you already had. They were definitely packing, they might try to start something if you provoke them. How do I go about this? You certainly weren’t gonna take the chance of them following, which meant you’d have to be careful. Intimidate, but be smart about it, make them paranoid, make them nervous to not let it escalate.

With that choice in your mind, you quietly trotted down the steps once more. Once on the ground again you locked eyes with Arthur. You gestured over to the direction of the men and held up the number 2 on your fingers. He nodded in recognition. You pointed to your eyes, then to where the men are, and finally pressing your pointer finger to your lips. Watch. Them. Quietly. You turned and walked away, going around the backside of the hotel.

The blond one was now leaning up against a tree with the almost bald one pacing around. You interlaced the hook of your thumb into the front beltloop of your pants, walking with a bold impression in your step. The nervous one noticed your approach first and kicked the shin of the nonchalant blond to get him to do the same. You decided to take a friendly disposition initially, letting a smile spread across your face. You stopped a few feet in front of them.

“Hiya there, fellas. I don’t suppose I could ask y’all a few questions?” You slipped into the accent you and Javier used in conversation.

“We ain’t got no answers for no Van der Linde meater!” The blond hacked and spit at the ground in your direction. What the hell is a meater? “Now scram like the pigeon-livered fool ya are.” You kept eye-contact with him the entire time, not budging.

“Now, I’m just tryna be civil here, boys. And let me tell ya, my civility is a privilege, not a right.” You took a step forward, now only a little more than a foot away from the agitated blond. “I ain’t gonna ask anymore, I’m tellin’.”

“Go to hell before I send ya there myself.” He drew a small revolver from his holster, the barrel pressed gingerly into your belly. You were unimpressed.

“Wow, you must really be an idiot-“

“What did you just say?” The other butted in.

“I said he’s an idiot. Not only is he dumb enough to try and watch me, but it also seems he’s so stupid that he’s try ‘nd point a weapon at me with the Sheriff’s office just around the corner.” You lowered your voice. “Your escape rides are a lil far to be actin’ like you own the place, aren’t they?” They gave each other a worried glance after hearing you say that. “I just wanna know what gives you the nerve to be spyin’ on someone like me.”

“This here is O’Driscoll territory, boy.” The Friar Tuck looking one verbally spit.

“Well, excuse me, I don’t see your permits of established territory. Now I’m not sure you noticed this or not, but I got eyes everywhere. You see, friend, I’ve got a certain way with words, and got enough skill to get people to do as I ask. Try anything funny and I won’t hesitate.” You push the offending arm that held the gun away, he gave no resistance. “I’ll give you a word of advice, keep you eyes to yourself.” You reached up, plucking the hat off his head by the brim. “And don’t wear hats. You ain’t big enough for ‘em.” You took a few steps back, masking the cautionary nature of them with cockiness. “I’ll see you two around.” You put the black hat on the crown of your head and waved them off.

You could already hear both men huff from frustration as you left. You decided to cut into the alley between the hotel and another building.

“That was quite possibly the best outcome you coulda got.” The sound of his accent surprised you. Arthur was leaning his shoulder against a blue beam but was about a foot taller due to him standing on the hotel’s platform. “I’m actually a little impressed. Never seen an O’Driscoll give up so easily.” He tipped his hat. “Especially not when you’ve so thoroughly disrespected ‘em.”

“Well, you did say I oughta get a hat, yeah?” Your throat was glad to be rid of the way too below your octave voice you’d taken on.

“I did indeed. It ain’t quite right, but it’ll do for now. Except for the fact yer wearin’ it all wrong.” Arthur dropped down to one knee, which was even more surprising than when he spoke up out of nowhere. It was unclear to you if it was just all the contemplating you’d done of him previously or what, but his eyes looked more unguarded than you were used to. Clear and questioning, they were honest. You could feel the ghost of his hand take the top of the hat and move it forward so that the sweatband met the top of your forehead.  “Much better.” He made what almost sounded like a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thanks…” Your voice came out softer than you meant for it to.

“Yer welcome. Now, let’s go check on Uncle. That old fool mighta drunk himself to death by now, here’s hopin’.” He stood to his feet and cracked his neck.

“Don’t be so hard on him, Arthur. He used to be the ‘one-shot kid’. Have a little more faith in him.” Your joke made him groan.

“Now you sound like Dutch.” You could practically hear his thoughts go ‘ew’. Together you walked back over to find a passed-out Uncle.

“Huh…Bill told me Javier and Charles are still here, you wanna go find them?”

“Eh, no, let’s just wait for the ladies. They’re usually pretty smart, but you can never be too careful.” You both took a seat on the shop’s wooden steps since Uncle was now sprawled on the bench.

“You’re very protective. You know that?” You asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It’s not a bad thing either. Just something I’ve noticed. You care a lot.”

“It’s not-“

“You’re not gonna fool me, Arthur Morgan. I’ve gotten pretty good at reading people over the years. I personally think it’s a good thing.”

“Really?” You expected his inflection to allude annoyance, but it was rather sincere.

“Yeah. I’ve been around you guys for a while now and let me tell you, the macho gets old. That’s why I appreciate the calmer and more caring outlook you have. It means you’re reliable.” He went silent after your last comment. This made you think you may have overstepped and made him uncomfortable. You forced out a laugh to try and lighten the mood. “Sorry about that, I talk without thinking sometime-“

“I never thought about it like that before.” What? “You know you’re real strange, West.”

“That’s what I’ve been told.” This time the chuckle at the end was legitimate. “I’m used to it though.”

“Y’know, everyone’s real interested to hear more about you. Ya don’t say much about yourself, and when you do its all vague. You scared of somethin’?” You weren’t sure why his question shocked you initially, they said the same thing earlier.

“I don’t think scared is the right word.”

“Then what is?” There was a newfound dulcet way in his speaking. You pondered that question for a moment. You weren’t trying to get killed just because someone was nice to you.

“You all have been so kind to me, and I’m sure it’s frustrating to not know practically anything about me, but for safety’s sake, until proven otherwise, it’s best that I don’t say.”

“You got someone after you or somethin’? ‘Cause if you do, we really need to know what to look out for.”

“It’s complicated. The less you know the better. Besides, I’m too far gone and far too different for that to matter.”

“You really know how to be cryptic, don’t ya?” He scratched at his beard.

“I’ve been told that as well, yes.”

“In any case, you can trust us. I know they don’t seem like it, but most of them boys, and almost all the ladies, they’re real good listeners.”

“See what I mean? You care an awful lot. It’s actually really impres-“

“Arthur! James!” And elated voice called out. You looked to the right and saw Mary-Beth making small and quick steps toward you. Arthur picked a pebble off the ground and snapped it at Uncle, hitting him in the stomach with a light ‘pap’ sound and efficiently waking him from his alcoholic slumber. He let out a sudden yelp, and Arthur pretended he wasn’t the one who threw a small rock at him.

“By god, what are ya shoutin’ for, old man?”

“Something just hit me!” He squealed.

“Damn birds, amiright?” His words slurred through his accent. You didn’t respond to him.

“Hey Mary-Beth. What have you been up to?” You greeted her with a smile.

“That’s actually what I was comin’ over to tell y’all about! I found this big, fancy house and snuck in, pretendin’ to be a servant girl. It usually works.” She gestured with her hands. “Anyway, I heard some talk about the lady’s sister goin’ on a trip to some getaway vacation. A train full of rich bigwigs cruisin’ along the empty countryside at night to get to Saint Denis! To avoid the tides and all.”

“I don’t know about that, Mary-Beth. Seems a little risky.” Arthur was hesitant.

“Oh, come on, Arthur! There’s bound to be enough money on that train to keep us movin’, yeah?”

“I guess…Say, where’s Tilly and Karen at?”  

“Oh uh, Karen picked up some drunk fella to try and rob, took ‘em to the hotel.”

“Why?!” You joined in.

“Seemed easy…She has been gone for a while, though. Oh! There’s Tilly right there!” You followed her line of sight and saw Tilly get pulled into the alleyway you came out of earlier. You couldn’t hear much from where you were, but she was clearly getting yelled at by a man you didn’t recognize. “That don’t look good.”

Help Tilly or Help Karen?

Return here after choice is made

“Yeah, he only punched me. He got it worse, trust me.” She smirked.

“Uncle, can you take the girls back to camp. I think that’s been enough adventure for one day.

“I saw Bill ride in earlier, should we get him too?” Tilly asked.

“I’ll check on him here in a bit.” Everyone agreed to going back and things seemed pretty chill. Then some random guy on a horse slows down next to the group.

“I…I saw you in Blackwater!” What?

“No, no you didn’t. Let’s talk about this here-“

“I’m getting out of here!” What the fuck is going on? His horse made a quick turn in the opposite direction.

“Shit! Uncle, get the girls out of here!” Arthur hopped onto the back of a ginger horse and chased after the mystery man. Someone in the distance yelled,

“Hey! That’s my horse!” but didn’t go after them or anything. You stood in complete bewilderment for a moment.

“What are ya doin’, son? We have to go!” Uncle snapped you back into reality.

“No, you all get out of here. I’m gonna make sure Arthur doesn’t get into any trouble.” You waved them off and jogged off to figure out where they might’ve gone.

[holycalum]

vex c.h. 

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, swearing, drugs refs, but it’s actaully not bad at all

summary: the one where calum’s the most™ annoying but it’s cus he’s in looooove (is tht enough??)

a/n: HI yeah i know i haven’t posted in years because um (: i’ve been the most busy ever. i have so many things i wanna post i have like million half written things and ideas i just don’t have the energy to finish or start i know its bad i miss writing. anyways i hope ya like it i know i suck at writing the good ending parts where the stuff happens but i’m trying. send me requests pls it might take a while but ill defo get to them! love yall the most!

“can you please shut the fuck up and stop chewing ice for like, five seconds?” “first of all, i have an iron deficiency, calum.” you sneer, “you know i’m sensitive about it.” “you know i don’t care about your blood iron content, right (y/n)?” calum glares at you, angrily sipping his drink. “maybe you’re pregnant.” you almost scream, “stop don’t say that,” you pat your stomach, “i don’t want to be pregnant.” “cal, it’s your turn to bowl,” ashton says, flopping down next to calum on the couch opposite you. “i don’t wanna fuckin’ bowl,” calum grumbles, crossing his arms and sinking back into the couch. ashton scrunches his eyebrows, “cal, it was your idea-“ “(y/n) should take my turn, maybe it’ll help her unborn child be a champion bowler.” he mused, making ashton do a double take. “honestly,” ashton squeaks, “i don’t wanna know, (y/n), are you pregnant?” “thought you didn’t wanna know?” you joked, placing two hands on your stomach. “no, i’m not, calum’s just being a bitch.” “m’ not.” he counters, “it’s just your pregnant lady hormones are rubbing off on me, i’m surprised we’re all not crying.” ashton just sits up slowly, backing away from the couch. “it’s just, fuck you calum.” you roll your eyes, leaning back into the couch. you turn your body away from calum, focusing your attention on the scoreboard. “you’re doing really badly.” “can’t show up your bowling prodigy child,” calum hardly misses a beat, as annoying as he was being, he was on fire tonight. “wonder who the dad is.” you pull at your hair, “oh my fucking god,” you want to throw a bowling ball at his head, “it’s like you want me to be pregnant, you’re insinuating i’m getting dicked down enough to be pregnant.” “big word, gotta set a good example for the baby...” calum trails off, trying not to laugh at his constant pestering. “are you?” “wouldn’t be your business if i was, or if i wasn’t.” “then who am i to believe you’re not pregnant,” calum shrugs, finishing his drink. calum’s neck looked like prime real-estate for your fists, you had never been so annoyed with him in your time knowing him. for a while you two were actually friends, but as of lately, he seemed to seize any opportunity to push your buttons. michael slid into the spot next to you, “yanno, boys are usually mean to girls when they like them.” he whispers in your ear, “doesn’t that promote an unhealthy association or something?” you roll your eyes, burning holes into the side of calum’s head. “i’m sure someone who likes you wouldn’t claim you’re pregnant every chance they got.” “calum’s not just someone,” michael sing-songed, “i honestly don’t know what sticks up his ass.” “apparently it’s not a stick, it’s my fake baby.” you crossed your arms, still glaring at calum. “ashton,” you piped up, gripping the back of the drivers seat. “can we please stop at mcdonald’s, i have to pee.” “no.” calum answered for ashton, “i recall asking ashton,” you snapped your head towards him, “but go off i guess.” “yeah.” ashton said quietly, switching lanes to get off at the next exit. “no,” calum grabbed the steering wheel, “you peed like 20 minutes ago.” “jesus fucking ch-calum please,” ashton threw his hand off the wheel, “don’t kill us please.” “wouldn’t wanna kill the baby,” calum grinned at you, sarcasm leaking from his dimples. jesus, you think, here we fucking go. “since when are you the dictator of my bladder?” you asked, face red. “peeing a lot is a sign of pregnancy, you know?” calum said, ignoring your question. “so, you’re an ob-gyn now too?” “i’ve taken up many practices since you conceived your baby,” calum insisted, eyes glued to his phone. you desperately wanted calum to turn his head towards you, to give you his full attention. this half assed argument wasn’t cutting it. “i’m honestly so uncomfortable, we’re almost at McDonald's.” ashton announces, “i am not fucking pregnant!” you shout, slinking into the back seat, “why do i even hang out with you?” “hey, (y/n), how you feeling?” luke asks, face grainy on your phone screen. “like ass,” you croak, you’d been throwing up all morning. you thought you were on the come up, and tested the waters with a piece of toast, but you were unsuccessful. “-is that (y/n)?” you hear calum ask, and your stomach lurches, you didn’t need to deal with him right now. “yeah-she’s sick,” “with what?” “i dunno, she’s throwing up-“ suddenly the phone screen shakes and calum’s face takes up the whole thing. his face holds an evil smile and you’re far too familiar with his jokes and you know what you’re in for. “you’re having morning sickness, (y/n).” he says matter-of-factly. you feel the last of your toast threatening to inch up your throat. “it’s cus’ you’re pregnant.” you empty your stomach into the toilet, “fuck you, calum.” you manage in between deep breaths. “i have food poising.” “if that’s what we’re calling pregnancy these days.” “i’m hanging up.” you throw your phone across the tile of your bathroom, leaning your head against the cool toilet bowl. you felt so gross, and calum’s comments were not helping in the slightest. you felt like crying really, he was being such a jerk to you, for no reason. a few fever naps later, you’re woken up by a knock at your front door. you drag yourself to the door, opening it to find a bag from the drug store, with a note reading ‘pregnancy kit!’ you immediately toss the pregnancy tests to the side, digging out the gatorade. you call calum, “thanks for the gatorade, but i don’t need the tests, wanna give them to your groupies?” you say as soon as he picks up. “ah,” he breathes, “of course, how could i be so silly, you don’t need to test something you’re already sure of.” “fuck off.” “i don’t need them,” he continues, “that’s not me anymore.” “ok, bye calum.” you throw your phone back onto your couch, dropping the bag next to you. if he wasn’t such an asshole, you’d think him going out of his way to bring you things would be sweet, but you’re sure it’s just an extra step he took to tease you. if he were anyone else you might smile and blush at the thought, but thinking of calum’s devilish smile while picking things out only made your skin crawl with heat. “(y/n)...” calum pushes the drink out of your hands, “you can’t drink while pregnant.” you nearly break the bottle over his skull, “are you like deprived of sex or something? is that why you’re so edgy?” “i just care about the well being of your baby,” he rests a hand on your stomach, “seeing that it-speaking if we should find out the gender soon. seeing that its father is absent.” you flick his hand off of you and ignore the way your heart speeds up when he touches you. “let’s find you someone, that sound good?” you ask, dropping his calloused hand from your grip, and scanning the bar for anyone that may peak calum’s interest. if you were being honest, the conflict between you and calum, that you dread, lit something within you. whether it was a match under your ass that kept you on your toes, or something warmer in the pit of your stomach, you found yourself red in the face and tingly every time you went back and forth with each other. calum was pissing you off and he knew it, he had wiggled his way under your skin, and you didn’t know how you felt about it. you spot a blonde girl across the room, and you set out to approach her. “no one that’ll take away from my ob-gyn practice,” he shouts as you walk away, stomping loudly. it almost hurts how ok he was with it. you return only a few minutes later, finding it very easy to convince a random chick to talk to someone in a band. “calum,” you stand in front of him, and he glares down at your smaller frame. “this is ally-allison-um, this is allison.” you introduce her, and she giggled loudly. “oh my god,” he drops his jaw, “you reincarnated michael jackson? for me? you’re too sweet, (y/n).” something inside you relaxes at his dislike for the stranger. “what?” allison cocks her head to the side, looking calum up and down. you catch yourself thinking, me too girl. “never mind,” you mutter, “allison said she likes music, you like that too!” “yeah, i go to a lot of raves.” she assures us, “have you guys ever done molly?” “no.” calum is short, “well, i have a few in my bag-“ “nice,” he responds, “we can do a couple,” “yeah for sure,” his eyes are in slits as soon as he looks at you, you shrink under his gaze. “let’s do molly, in some bar, with ally.” “allison.” she corrects, and calum already has your bicep in his hand, dragging you in the opposite direction of allison. your brain is split between wanting to punch him for being so rough, and letting him drag you along. you go with the latter. “we’ll be right back, ally, just need to converse with my colleague.” calum has no intention of ever speaking to her again, anyone named allison, he decides. soon, you’re standing outside the bar, shooting daggers out of your eyes at calum. if looks could kill, he would’ve been dead hours ago, and you’d be beating the dead horse. your feelings were all jumbled up, in a hot, flaming, pile of trash. “it’s cold,” you complain, rubbing your bare arms. “ok well, i can’t control the weather.” he snapped, making your stomach drop, he was being so mean. “what the hell is your problem?” “i don’t need you to meddle in my love life, (y/n).” he uttered, pulling out a cigarette from his back pocket. you snatch it away from him, and he’s left empty-handed. “not good for you,” you explain, “i’m not the pregnant one...” “no one is pregnant!” you shout, throwing the unlit cigarette on the ground. “sounds like something a pregnant lady would say,” calum hasn’t missed an opportunity yet. “i literally need you to stop,” you beg, shaking his shoulders. he lets out a quiet ‘woah’ but doesn’t do anything to stop you from violently shaking him around. “i don’t know what your problem is, but like, you’ve been at this since before i tried helping you out, so what gives?” calum only shrugs in response, eyes drifting to the people flowing out of the bar. his mind sails elsewhere, wondering if the guys would wonder where you two went, if they knew how he felt, if they cared at all. “cal, there’s gotta be like, someone in there for you, if you want a wingman-“ you babble, trying to push the idea of you and calum far, far, far, out of your brain. if he could just make out with someone, you could never think about him like that again, and then you could really get pregnant, and live a calum-free life. “there’s no one in there for me.” he says coldly, turning his shoulders away from you, making your arms drop down to your sides. you can feel him closing off. you roll your eyes, “how are you supposed to know that,” you soften your tone, you didn’t really know how to talk to calum like this. “cus’ i just do,” he’s slowly inching away from you now, trying to increase the space, trying to decrease the connection. “why should you care?” he turned his difficult feelings into coldness. “you’re my friend, i think, if you’re allowed to be so involved in my uterus, i should be allowed to try and get you some!” you fume, stepping closer to him. “i’m trying to be nice while you continue to be so mean.” “why try?” “i-“ you didn’t know, “i don’t know.” “well,” he barks, “if i’m being so mean and you can’t stand it, why do you hang out with me?” “why are you so mean?” you ask, both of your voices raising. “i don’t know.” he mocks you, “you have to know!” you were being far too dramatic for where you were, but you were so blinded by rage you found it difficult to care. “if you’re allowed to not know why you put up with me, i’m allowed to not know why i’m mean to you.” he turns to walk away from you, you grab the sleeve of his jacket, blood pumping rapidly. “don’t walk away from me, calum, that’s rude as shit.” “i am rude as shit.” “you’re not!” you cry, people walking out of the bar into the cool air taking a second glance at your exchange. “you’re not rude and that’s why i’m confused as to why you’re being rude to me, you weren’t like this before.” “before you started going out on dates and shit and getting pregnant,” he grumbled, shoulders slumping into himself. you gaped, “how does that have to do with why you’re being mean.” “m’ not mean.” his voice got quieter, head now lowered. if he couldn’t just box you out he could always try retreating into himself. “you just said you were,” you matched his volume. “m’ not,” he repeated, “n’ there’s no one in there for me.” “you’re all over the place,” you’re head is spinning, and you can’t connect the dots between anything calum’s saying. “cus’ the only person for me is standing outside the fuckin’ bar.” “have i ever told you, you have such a way with words,” you were trying to be so cool, because you doubted that the middle-aged businessman standing near the entrance was the one for calum, but he was making it really hard. “you’ll never guess what i do for a living.” he jokes back, but his chuckle ends too short to be real. “ok, so, why do you think i’m pregnant? like i’m still lost.” “can we please not talk about it,” he begs, finally looking at you. your stomach flips at his eye contact, and as wobbly as your knees are, you’re unmoving. you couldn’t “that’s not fair to me, cal.” “just not here then, please.” the sound of your front door closing was the first thing to break the agonizing silence between the two of you. “so...” you lean over your kitchen counter. calum rubs his face, and groans. “it’s stupid,” his words are altered by his cheeks being smooshed against his hands. a blush creeps up the back of calum’s neck and onto his face. he wasn’t getting out of this one. “yeah,” you agree, “it is stupid, but why?” there’s a long stretch of silence, “cus i like you,” finally cuts through the thick air surrounding you two. “m’ still a little drunk.” you spit out the sip of water you had just taken. “sorry,” you sputter, wiping your mouth. sure he had implied something of the sort outside the bar, but hearing him say it was sending you elsewhere. “i um,” “you don’t have to say anything back, but you wanted to know, so i told you.” he shrinks into himself, “no, cal, i just wanna know why you thought that was how you should’ve gone about it.” you weren’t saying you didn’t feel the same, but you also weren’t saying you’d let him off so easy. “i’m sorry, if it really bothered you.” he says instead, spinning himself back and forth on the bar stool. he was looking everywhere but you. “it’s not that, it was just-“ “weird?” “yeah.” “i know id be weird anyways, so i figures being mean weird would rule out yanno, me feeling things.” he explains, playing with the cuff of his jacket. “oh,” you whisper, studying how his eyebrows scrunch when he can’t button his sleeve. “you can’t just try and cancel out your feelings...like pemdas.” his eyes flicker towards you, “wrong, i did try, it just didn’t work.” “so you still like me?” you ask, “do all pregnant people ask this many questions?” he says under his breath, and you let yourself laugh because it’s kinda funny. calum smiles sheepishly as he continues looking down at his sleeves. “just me i guess,” you decide to play along. “yeah, i do.” “cool.” “that’s all i get?” he sits up straight, gripping the edge of the counter. “it’s cool!” you defend, giggles escaping your lips. “yeah well, what’s cool about it?” he tests the waters, maybe you were interested, maybe it wasn’t so crazy to think maybe you’d like him too. even just a little bit. he leans back against the chair. “i think it’s cool...” you trail off, biting your lip, “that someone so cool likes me.” “you think i’m cool?” calum’s tone is teasing, but you can tell he’s flustered by the way his usually low voice raises a bit and the blush painting his tanned cheeks. “mhm.” you nod slightly, the little bit of alcohol in your system making it hard to hold off. calum’s stature was especially enduring right now, his soft, sleepy eyes and messy hair, your heart swelled at the sight. “cool.” he said simply, eyes crinkling. you only let out another quiet ‘mhm’ in response, taking another sip of water. “so, is that it?” “is what it?” “is that all we say, and now i just have to stare at you until you kick me out?” he questions, face dropping. surely, he thought, you were only playing him. “bold of you to assume you’d even wanna stare at my face that long.” you counter, raising an eyebrow. he thinks for a moment, “bold of you to assume i wouldn’t.” “bold of you to assume...” it was getting really hard to go back and forth with calum now, his cocky smile getting under your skin instead of on your nerves for once. “bold of you to assume i’d kick you out,” “oh?” he grinned, leaning over the counter, mirroring my position. he widens his eyes at you, “better get used to it then.” “are you flirting with me, calum?” “bold of you to assume i’m not setting you up for the best pregnant joke of all time.” you roll your eyes at him, starting to move away. he grabs your hand suddenly, pulling you back over the counter. “i was only kidding, (y/n).” “figured,” you squeak out, trying not to faulted. you swallow hard, “but why do you need to be so close to me?” you were certain if anything was obvious is was the prominent blush splayed across your cheeks. you’d be surprised if he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks. “like seein’ you blush,” you were right, “sure, i could see it from down the street, but this is a better view.” “doubt it.” you bite your lip, “agree to disagree?” “turning down an argument?” you question, “i’m sure another opportunity will present itself.” he whispers, “you know i’d stay here, but it’s a really uncomfortable position.” you speak, after a moment of silence. “and i hate being in jeans. are you spending the night?” “what does that have to do with being in jeans?” he stays leaned over the counter after you stand straight again, and start walking towards your room. “i don’t have any clothes for you, i’d feel bad if i was comfortable and you weren’t.” “not something you’d ever cared about before, doll.” he spins around to face you, relaxed against the stool. suddenly your whole body feels hot. you gulp, “i guess you’re right,” you come back later, clad in pajama shorts and a long sleeved shirt. calum’s lounging on your couch now, feet kicked up on the coffee table. “glad you’ve made yourself comfortable.” “you weren’t going to,” he speaks, eyes not breaking away from his phone. you sit down next to him, legs folded underneath yourself. he glances over at you, a smile smile evident on his lips. it felt odd, not being genuinely angry at calum for more than an hour. “listen,” he speaks, “you don’t have to kick me out, i can leave on my own.” he looks down at his hands, twisting his rings. “you can if you want,” you say softly, covering your yawn with you hand. you hoped he didn’t want to leave, cause you’d be ok if he sat on your couch forever. “do you want me to?” he meets your eyes, you shrug, inspecting your nail polish, “don’t care,” “i mean, it’d be kinda weird if i stayed cus i like you and you don’t-“ “i like you calum,” you cut him off, darting your eyes back down to your nails. “oh,” he shook his head a bit, a grin creeping its way onto his face. “glad that’s out of the way,” you say, still not looking at calum. if you looked at him it’d be real and you’d given into him, who was bullying you for a fake pregnancy only hours before. it was stupid if you put it that way. but if you thought about it another way, it was never really that deep. “then, i guess i’ll stay?” he says carefully, nudging your thigh, eyebrows raised in anticipation. “cool.” you nod, making eye contact for a split second before turning back away. you could combust then and there. “you’d like that?” he teases, inching closer to you. you swear you feel your heart stutter. “if i stayed?” “mhm.” you laser your focus on your chipping polish instead of his body heat in attempt to calm yourself down. but you’re the furthest thing from calm. “ok,” he huffs, leaning back and throwing an arm around your shoulders. you stiffen under his touch, your entire body on fire. as of the last couple of months you’d been hot out of anger, not by whatever this was. calum’s gaze was fixed on you, his eyes fond despite his cocky manner. “you gonna relax, sweetheart?” the nickname dripped like honey from his lips. “you gonna kiss me to get it over with already?” you spit suddenly, wanting to end the awkwardness. you were sick of the jitters now, and all you wanted was calum. yet, you slap a hand over your mouth. he let out a laugh, “can’t with you so far away from me.” you roll your eyes, and lift yourself to turn yourself toward him. “much better,” he grins, moving a hand up to cup your face. fuck that, you think, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pressing your lips together. you feel the tension leave your body, as calum’s lips work against yours. it feels like heaven, his plump lips against yours, hands gripping whatever they can. calum pulls away, forehead leaning against yours, panting quietly. you take in his look, eyes closed, blissed out, beautiful. “bet your baby daddy couldn’t do that?” he jokes, smiling. “shut up.”

[singingaboutwishingx]

Sneezing and Screaming and Cries, Oh My (Jacques Snicket x Olivia Caliban fic)

Monday, 3:57 p.m.

After two days in the hospital, Olivia and Jacques were home— with a new addition. Delilah Jane Snicket-Caliban had been born on Saturday, a healthy, beautiful baby. 

Kit and Jacquelyn rushed to them as soon as they walked through the door, taking suitcases and gift bags off their hands. The Baudelaire and Quagmires called out greetings but stayed where they were as not to crowd Jacques and Olivia. 

Olivia gently sat down on the couch, still holding Delilah. Jacques sat on one side and Kit sat on the other, cooing at the baby. Jacquelyn perched herself on the arm of the sofa next to Kit.  

“You can come see her now, kids,” Olivia said, smiling softly. The children walked around to the back of the couch, looking at Delilah for the second time ever. 

“She’s beautiful,” Duncan said quietly. 

“She looks very healthy,” Klaus added. 

“Delilah Jane came home today/‘We love her so’ is all we can say,” Isadora ad-libbed. 

“Iz, that’s adorable! And very true,” Kit replied. She turned back to Jacques and Olivia. “You two are probably exhausted. You should get some rest while we take care of Delilah for a bit.” 

“Kit, is this just an excuse for you to hold my baby for an hour?” 

“Absolutely.” The two women grinned at each other. “But seriously, giving birth is hard stuff. Go take a nap, Liv.”

Olivia sighed and acquiesced, handing Delilah to Kit. She and Jacques practically dragged themselves up the stairs towards their bedroom. 

“Wow, they really did need that.” Quigley was surprised; they’d seemed fine until then. 

They all just stared at Delilah for a while, taking the absolutely perfect bundle in Kit’s arms. Her big gray eyes blinked back at them until she eventually fell asleep.

“Jacquelyn, you wanna hold her?” 

“Come here, little one,” she whispered as Kit transferred the baby to her. Jacquelyn was absolutely enraptured by the sleeping infant in her arms, as was everyone else. 

  The rest of the day was quiet, interrupted occasionally by Delilah waking up and screaming. Olivia woke up when she screamed and fed her every two hours (she followed parenting books like the Bible), only to go right back to sleep. It was fairly uneventful, that first day, but the peace was much appreciated by everyone. 

••••••••••••••••••••

Tuesday, 3:32 a.m.

Jacques woke up to a crying Delilah and groaned, Olivia  beginning to stir next to him. 

“When was the last time you fed her?” he asked. 

She glanced at the clock. “Half an hour ago, so I know she’s not hungry.” Her voice was thick with sleep, and she yawned. 

“Go back to sleep, love. I’ll get her.” 

“Bless you, Jacques Snicket.” She rolled back over.

Jacques padded over to Delilah’s crib, where she lay screaming at the top of her tiny little lungs. He checked her diaper, and upon finding nothing, gently picked her up, bouncing lightly from side to side. The screaming didn’t let up, so Jacques began to sing a lullaby. 

“Arrorró mi niño                         Arroró mi sól                            Arrorró pedazo                           De mi corazón

Este lindo niño se quiere dormir cierra los ojitos y los vuelve a abrir.

Arrorró mi niño, arrorró mi sol, duérmase pedazo, de mi corazón.” 

Delilah had become silent, stared at him, and fallen asleep again during the span of the song. Jacques laid her down, returning to bed. Olivia was still somewhat conscious. 

“Where did you learn that?” she asked, sounding both groggy and inmpressed. 

“I went to Peru for a mission, and the people I stayed with had a baby. The mother sang this to him all the time. The song just kind of stayed with me.” 

“It was wonderful. Thank you.”

They fell back asleep, holding hands. 

••••••••••••••••••••

Wednesday, 12:24 p.m.

Delilah had been sneezing all morning, and Olivia was worried. She had been obsessively flipping through her parenting books in between feedings.  

“There’s nothing here about sneezing! What if she’s really sick?” 

“Well,” said Kit, looking at the bassinet from where she was doing their dishes (she’d been doing little things like that all week, and Jacques and Olivia could not have been more grateful), “maybe we should just use that nose sucker thing. That should clear out any snot she’s producing. And sometimes I think they just sneeze to clear out any dust or anything. Lemony sneezed a ton as a baby, and he turned out fine.”

“Let’s try that, then.” Olivia grabbed the nasal sucker and braced herself for the inevitable screaming. 

Olivia used it, Delilah wailed, and Kit just stood, looking concerned because she wasn’t really sure how to help. She eventually decided on just returning to the pile of silverware she’d been working through. 

Delilah calmed after a moment and just blinked at Olivia. 

“I think she’s stopped,” Olivia whispered. 

“Why are you whispering?” Kit whispered back. 

“I don’t want to jinx it.”

Delilah sneezed. 

••••••••••••••••••••

Thursday, 7:50 a.m.

“Alright kids, time to head out!” Olivia called. She picked up Delilah and walked out the door, followed by the Baudelaires.

Jacques was already outside, waiting to take them to school. Olivia kissed everyone and sent them off, waving. 

She walked back inside. “It’s just you and me today, baby girl,” she cooed. “We’re gonna have fun! Auntie Kit and Auntie Jacquelyn are coming over, and we’ll have tea.” 

Olivia got herself and Delilah ready. She was boiling the water for tea when Kit and Jacquelyn came in. 

“Hello!” Kit sang. “How are my two favorite girls?” 

“Kit, your wife is standing right there,” Olivia laughed.

“My bad, babe,” Kit apologized, kissing Jacquelyn on the cheek. 

“No hard feelings, Delilah’s probably my favorite person in any room.” Jacquelyn smiled back at Kit and placed the basket of muffins they’d brought on the table. 

“Tea’s coming out,” Olivia said, carrying a teapot to the table. “It hasn’t fully steeped yet, so we can sit down and talk for a minute.”

They sat down. “So how has it been going with Delilah?” Jacquelyn asked. “Any firsts?”

Olivia chuckled. “Well, we had our first spit-up on Tuesday; that was about as pleasant as you’d imagine. And I saw her smile in her sleep for the first time, although I think it was just gas.” 

Jacquelyn shrugged. “Take what you can get, I guess.”

The conversation eventually drifted away from Delilah and are you two thinking of having any more babies? (they weren’t), and before they knew it, it was noon. Kit glanced at the clock. 

“Jac, we have to leave soon. I have to work at one, and I think Poe might fire you if you keep missing.” 

“Oh, he won’t. He’s too dull. I just tell him that he’s authorized my leave and after a confused minute he shrugs and takes it for granted.”

“Alright, then. But we really should be going. Keep the muffins, Olivia. You guys need them more than we do.” They rose and began to clear off the table.

“Are you sure? You’ve been helping an awful lot this week; I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” 

“Olivia, you are my sister-in-law. This is my first blood niece. I’m helping whether you like it or not.” 

“If you say so, Kit. Thank you. I love you girls,” she said, pulling the both of them into a hug. 

“We love you too, honey,” Kit said.

“Bye, Olivia. Bye, Delilah!” Jacquelyn called as they walked out the door.

Olivia closed the door and walked back over to the bassinet. Delilah was sound asleep, her little face no longer screwed up, but relaxed and peaceful. Olivia just stood and watched her baby for a while, trying to comprehend the fact that she had made this perfect girl. 

“Delilah, Delilah, Delilah. I love you, little girl.”

••••••••••••••••••••

Friday, 4:45 p.m. 

Jacques and Olivia were snuggling on the couch with Delilah (by order of Kit and Jacquelyn, who had brought the Quagmires over when they came to clean and do dishes) when Violet came into the room, siblings and Quagmires in tow.

“Jacques? Olivia?” she asked. 

“Yes, Violet?” Olivia prompted. 

“Well, we wanted to give you two some, I’m sure, much-needed alone time, so Sunny and Jacquelyn made dinner for you. There’s some leftover breast milk from when you went to the store the other day, so we won’t interrupt you unless something’s wrong.”

Olivia almost cried— these children had all been through so much, and yet they were the most generous people she knew (although it may have been from residual pregnancy hormones).

“Thank you. We would love to.” Jacques’s words were brief, but his eyes truly showed his gratitude. His heart overflowed with emotion for very much the same reason as Olivia’s. 

The children led them to the dining room, where the table was set and laden with dishes of food. Candles have the room a soft glow, and Kit and Jacquelyn were waiting inside. 

“Welcome,” Jacquelyn began, “to a romantic evening. There will be no screaming babies— in the room, at least— and no distractions. You two can enjoy yourselves without having to think about anything but each other. If you’d kindly hand Kit your child, we will exit and you may begin your meal.”

Olivia transferred Delilah to Kit’s arms, and everyone else left. 

“Well, my dear,” Jacques said, pulling out a chair for her, “shall we eat?”

Olivia delicately sat down. “Thank you. We shall.”

They ate, talking about everything  but the children. 

Meanwhile, everyone else watched over Delilah, who slept most of the time. She almost seemed to understand that the screaming should be minimal, seeing as she only cried out twice.

Jacques and Olivia ended up back out with the rest of them after a few hours (they couldn’t bear to be away from the kids for too long). They played board games, laughing and talking all the while.

It was a good evening, Olivia thought as she climbed into bed. I really do have the best family in the world. 

••••••••••••••••••••

Saturday, 1:36 a.m.

Olivia couldn’t sleep.

She was quite confused as to why, considering her severe lack of sleep throughout the past few days. 

Maybe I need to have Jacques sing me that lullaby he’s been singing, she thought.

She laid in bed for a while, trying everything she could think of to fall asleep. After a while, Delilah began to cry, which relieved Olivia greatly. It finally gave her a reason to be awake. 

She slipped out of bed, checking the clock to make sure it wasn’t feeding time. She changed Delilah’s diaper, and the tiny girl still continued to cry. She felt her forehead for a temperature. She seemed a little warm, so Olivia gently unwrapped her blankets. She still cried. 

Olivia decided to sing a lullaby.

“Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, Go to sleepy little baby. When you wake, you shall have, All the pretty little horses.”

She sang simply and quietly, her voice sweet and melodic. Jacques had woken up by then, and gotten up. He got up and wrapped an arm around Olivia. He wove in a beautiful harmony, his voice hushed as well. 

Blacks and bays, dapples and greys, Go to sleepy you little baby,

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, Go to sleepy little baby. Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, Go to sleepy little baby, When you wake, you shall have, All the pretty little horses.”

Delilah quieted, and her parents ended the song. They both leaned down and kissed her forehead before Olivia gently placed her back in her crib. 

Olivia finally yawned, leading Jacques back to bed. From there, she was able to fall asleep. She slept at last, holding her husband in her arms and her daughter in her mind. 

•••••••••••••••••••• 

Sunday, 6:49 p.m.

Jacques was fixing dinner (or rather, heating up the casserole that Sally had brought over), and the children were taking turns holding Delilah. Everything was okay: no serious issues, no injuries, and a surprisingly low amount of crying. 

The phone rang, so Olivia got up to answer it. “Snicket-Caliban residence, this is Olivia speaking.” 

“Hi, hon.” Kit’s warm voice put a smile on Olivia’s face. “How are you guys? Do you need me or Jacquelyn to come over?” 

She looked adoringly at her four wonderful children. “No, everything’s fine. It’s perfect, really.” 

The smile in Kit’s voice was evident. “I’m glad, Olivia. Truly. But seriously, let us know if you need anything.” 

“Don’t worry. I’ll call you the second we’re in over our heads. Goodbye, Kit.”

“Goodbye, Olivia.”

Olivia hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen, wrapping her arms around Jacques and laying her head on his back. 

“I love our little family,” she murmured. 

“I love them, too. And I love you.”

“I love you, too.” They smiled at each other, at peace with the world. 

  Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long! I got out of school yesterday, and I had tons of tests before that so I wasn’t able to work on this as much. Also, when I was looking at lullabies for Tuesday and Saturday, I found this French one about a guy going to his meighbor’s house in the middle of the night and asking for a pen and idk I just thought it was funny. The lullabies I ended up using are “Arrorró Mi Niño” and “All the Pretty Little Horses.”

Requested by Anon