#Insert that scene of Gerry laughing and then crying

[smolbeandrabbles]

Don’t Call Me Angel - Detective Meares x Reader (Needle)

GIF CREDIT: X 

All responsibility out the window here, I can’t claim any, it’s all Mendo Nation’s fault! No seriously they came up with it, I’m innocent I swear!

Author’s Note: “How did we get here!? Who brought us here!?” 

I stg, @mendelskrull​ and @crawlingmist​ started me on this damn man with digging up (and creating) gifs I didn’t even realise were a thing. And then I was like ‘you know I think I can probably get something out of him!’ and kinda dismissed that 500 words as all we were ever going to get.

Oh no. Then - rightfully so! - I did some campaigning for him on Twitter polls and now I’m here. 

I digress. I wrote more for Meares, and you’re welcome.

Disclaimer: This is not my idea/plot and is a joint effort of the Mendo Nation - who let me go ahead and write it / Needle naught to do with me / gifs & lyrics not mine

Premise: When Meares turns up at a crime scene and finds a second potential victim he’ll do anything to see the killer brought to justice, for her. If he can figure out who the killer is...

Words: 8277

Warnings: TW potential rape discussed / sexual connotations / sexual pre-amble / swearing / kidnap / I really tried to make that last scene as far from non-con as I possibly could but I still want to put a warning for it jic.

____

Don't call me angel when I'm a mess Don't call me angel when I get undressed You know I, I don't like that, boy I make my money, and I write the checks So say my name with a little respect All my girls successful, and you're just our guest Do I really need to say it? Do I need to say it again, yeah? You better stop the sweet talk And keep your pretty mouth shut Boy, don't call me angel, You ain't got me right Don't call me angel, You can't pay my price Ain't from no Heaven,Yeah, you heard me right Even though you know we fly, Don't call me angel You sizin' up my body, oh yeah Don't you know that I bite when the sun set?  So don't you try come around me Might work with her, but not me, oh yeah Don't you know that I bite when the sun set? Keep my name out your mouth I know what you about So keep my name out your mouth I appreciate the way you watch me, I can't lie I drop it down, I pick it up, I back it off the county line I fell from Heaven, now I'm living like a devil You can't get me off your mind I appreciate the way you want me, I can't lie I drop it low, I back it up, I know you wanna think you're mine Baby, I totally get it, you can't guess so You can't get me off your mind We in it together, but don't call me angel

---

Abandoned building in the middle of nowhere – that wasn’t so unusual, not for a crime scene anyway. This was the kind of place he half expected to be sent to. Not that he particularly wanted to go – another Detective had been on the case this morning, but apparently something a little more interesting had come up for them and so Meares was thrown the file. ‘So… where’s my crime scene?’ in fact, he wasn’t even sure he was in the right place by the fact there appeared to be no officers guarding the scene. Only the tape strung across the front of the building let him know that’s exactly where he wanted to be. Maybe they’d all just been lazy and decided to clock off for the evening? He ducked under the tape and flicked his torch on, which he still needed because the lights in the warehouse were so goddamn dim. But why had everyone left? The sheet was still over the body and to him that only signalled that the scene had yet to be fully processed. ‘Fucking bastards sending me out here…’  He huffed, ‘If they’ve all miked off drinking I swear to GO---D.’ He noticed how he was also alone out here and his partner, Detective Reddick, didn’t want to bother driving across town for it either. “Aw, nah, it’ll only take one of us. Report back..!” Cursing again, Meares approached the victim, he supposed he might have to start this alone. Bending over he grasped the corner of the white sheet delicately – having learned from previous crime scene interactions that sometimes he could be a little too flamboyant in his actions and there’d been a few ‘incidents’ – and stood to height as he pulled the fabric back from the body. Respect the victim - a little easier when he was alone… Meares guessed that sometimes he just liked being a show off and it was an unfortunate trait he couldn’t help. He jumped as he surveyed the body, just one glance over – his stumbled footsteps echoed around the warehouse, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Meares checked his papers, then the body, then the papers again, then the body… That was not a ‘white male, 20s, average build, deep lacerations, bruising and ligature marks’. This was a very naked (but very beautiful) woman; possibly around the same age bracket - but the body itself looked intact. “Okay. Who is out here pranking me now!?” Had someone switched files? Had someone told him the wrong location? No, no, how often did that happen? Everything else about his file was right, apart from the body. Meares tipped his head, tongue between his lips as he drew his eyes back up her. He rolled it with a small tsk sound, and then knew he was smirking. It was probably very inappropriate to think that a potential victim was hot, even when it was as confusing as to why this was the body in front of him. But her form dipped and curved in just the right places, her skin very nearly perfect… Meares wouldn’t have guessed she’d been dead too long, but also didn’t see any way that she could have died. He stepped carefully around her, her eyes may have been closed but she had an Angel face to match her body, Meares thought hard; ‘more importantly, why is she at my crime scene? And if she is here… where is the real body?’ He let his eyes linger on her for a little too long, and felt that guilty blush build up on his cheeks, travelling fairly swiftly to his neck… but the rush of blood travelled a little further than expected. NO. NO. C’mon, man… He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. But found himself suddenly sad that she was the victim; of course, every victim was difficult but as a detective he had to do his best to separate- “Is it her or her body, though? C’mon. You have nooo idea what she’s-” Meares paused, “Aw, great, I’ve finally cracked I’m talking to myself at a crime scene.” He stopped his walk, palm to his forehead for a minute, “Well, nothing like an expert opinion!” He looked her body over again. No, he was fairly certain there was no obvious sign of trauma. Nor anything to indicate any other type of foul play. And it still bothered him that the body was supposed to be male-! ‘It sure does feel like a set up…’ And of course, forensics had all cleared off. He took one more step towards her; maybe Meares just wasn’t thinking clearly enough. ‘Too distracted, obviously.’ But also maybe he just wasn’t looking closely enough. His eyes lingered on her face ‘Who are you? Why are you here? Who did this to you..? C’mon, darling, I need answers…’ Meares didn’t have a chance to think much more than that; her eyes snapped open. If he thought he’d jumped back before, his string of yelled expletives matched the pounding of his heart in his chest as his adrenaline spiked. Yeah, dead bodies did that, occasionally – but dead bodies did not then take dry choked breaths that then became something close to strangled sobs. That didn’t surprise Meares either; she’d practically been declared dead, she was in a middle-of-nowhere warehouse, naked, and a male detective was now standing over her and – by his own admittance – probably looking a little leery. When her eyes focused on him all he saw on her face was terror, she pulled her knees up, arms around her body to cover herself as she attempted to scramble away. Meares threw his hands up, immediately going for his badge, “Hey, hey! It’s okay! It’s okay! My name’s Detective Meares. It’s alright – I’m here to help… I promise… you’re alright now.” He wasn’t sure she trusted him, and her nails dug hard into her skin. Meares shrugged himself out of his jacket, levelling his voice off in hushed tones. “You gave me quite a scare there you know?!” He smiled as he held it out for her, “I’m here to investigate a body, although believe me I’m glad you’re not one… take it. It’s okay… We should probably get you outta here…” He watched her slip it on, buttoning the front up to look as modest as possible, but she still shivered. “You… got a name?” Her eyes raised back to his face, but suddenly she shook her head, “I don’t…” “Remember?” Her nod was certainly sad and he didn’t want her to panic and spiral, but anything he could get now would aid his case greatly, “Do you remember anything? Why you’re here, what happened? Anything about who did this? What about your clothes honey, do you know what you were wearing?” She continued to shake her head, and Meares certainly didn’t want to stress her out any more than he had to. “Okay, it’s okay, this happens. I’m sure it’ll come to you. It’s all going to be fine. But, I should really get you over to a hospital.” “I don’t-” “Honey it’s procedure, I don’t have much of a choice,” he held his hand out for her, “you’re safe with me. No one is going to hurt you.” She placed her hand in his delicately, and Meares felt like he was going on some kind of power trip, but not a bad kind of trip; she trusted him. He was going to protect her now, that was his duty. He pulled her up, trying to keep his eyes on her face. “Thank you.” “Hey, we’re not there yet, you can thank me later. Let’s make sure you’re all okay, right now. Come on, I’ll get you to the car and get you warmed up.” He didn’t touch her as he led her to it, opening the door; Meares would put the heat on for her, he’d pull up to the hospital and they could do tests and maybe he’d get some more evidence from her… And she’d remember too, once she was over the shock, he was sure. He slid his mobile out of his pocket, calling his partner as he jogged around to the driver’s side of the car, indicated that he should meet Meares at the hospital and they could figure it out from there. The detective paused, looking back at the building for just a moment as he opened the door… There was just once problem he couldn’t quite figure out here. “Where the fuck is my actual body, though?!”

** You kept glancing across to the detective as he sped towards the hospital, and you did mean that – Meares was running every light and had his blue lights flashing. He looked on the verge of his 40’s, messy greying black hair and piercing blue eyes – though the true colour seemed fleeting as they changed with his emotions. And those were all over the place right now, that much was obvious. Although he appeared to be being the gentleman, sometimes he couldn’t help but look over at you – and his glances to your body weren’t very fleeting, either. In a normal situation you supposed you would be flattered, but right now you were having doubts you could trust him to be taking you where he said he was. ‘No… He’s a detective. He surely wouldn’t take advantage of that?’ or, maybe he would; how much did you know about Meares anyway? Maybe not a lot; but he was very easy to read on the surface so you didn’t think that figuring him out was going to be much of a challenge. Eventually you started seeing the Hospital signs and could breathe a real sigh of relief; okay… you could trust him. Upon pulling up you noticed several other police vehicles waiting around outside – all with their lights also flashing. You gasped and visibly shrank back in your seat; Meares turned to you. “Don’t worry, I called for backup, they’re good guys. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He opened his car door. “I’ll be very quick, okay, just wait here. We’ll get you checked up.” You reached for his hand before he had a chance to leave and held him there for a minute, Meares thought that you might be about to thank him, but that wasn’t what came out of your mouth: “Y/N.” “…What?” “…My name. You asked my name.” You found yourself taken aback by how gentle and sweet his smile was, “Y/N, you remembered… That’s good progress. Real good progress.” His large hand enveloped yours for a second, “Excellent! Now just, wait here, the hospital will help you out!” By the time Detective Meares exited the car and found his partner he was panicking again, “God damn, Meares-! What the hell is going on!” “You tell me! They send me to a crime scene where somebody is supposed to have been cut through, and I find a live woman there? What happened to all the investigators!? Anyway, that isn’t the point, she’s sitting in my car, I don’t know who she is – she’s barely remembered her first name – she doesn’t know how she got there and she’s half naked! And that’s only cuz she has my jacket! Who does that to a girl and leaves her in the middle of a crime scene!?” Reddick wiggled his eyebrows, “Naked ehhhhhh?!” Meares immediately hit him, “No! She’s a victim, quite possibly a witness once we get through to her!” Although his face burned, it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought the same thing. “…Well they knew someone would find her in a crime scene?” “Logical if it was accidental but then evidence has been moved, where’s the logic there, huh?” “Maybe forensics has the body.” “…Then why send me with the damn report like a body is there?” “Because they don’t like you, Meares?” “Fuck that. No wonder this department is a laughing stock…” He sighed angrily, “Look, if we have the body, great, but someone has tampered with that scene, and there’s either a secondary scene for her, or new forensic evidence at this one. Get down there with some people and figure it out.” His partner groaned, “Why me!?” “Because I’M staying with the victim for questioning, and hospital test results. I found her, her mind is clearly fragile, right now I am the familiar face-!” “Shouldn’t you be telling the department all this?” Meares glared at him, “Quit whining! Sure, I’ll do it. Can you please get down there – I really don’t want to leave her alone too long!” “Fine… fine, I’m going, but then get them to come straight out to me.” Reddick peered around his friend, “She’s a good-looking girl.” “Y-Yeah.” Meares also turned on the spot, you were looking at the hospital nervously, chewing your lip, “She is.” “And you’ve seen her naked.” There was a waiver of amusement in the other Detective’s voice, Meares turned back to him, snapping: “Will you get out of here!” ** Meares hung around in the hospital as long as he could before they forced him to leave to conduct their tests. Not before he took your hands and promised you he’d be back as soon as they let him. You did trust him, you knew that already – right now he seemed like the only person you could trust; and he’d brought you to a hospital and he trusted them to take care of you. You took a deep shaky breath as he let you go, but you knew everything was going to be okay. Once outside he called his superiors to tell them the news. That he’d found a secondary victim and that Reddick was back at the scene to retrieve any other evidence – luckily that was met positively and a forensics team was dispatched. Although Meares did mutter something about lack of communication under his breath. He had to voice his concern now: “There were no police or detectives on the scene – things have been moved, or must be missing. Someone got a second body in there between them packing up and me arriving. And conveniently no one was around to see anything!? And if I just missed them, then I’d say the killer was watching us, or the building. You have the body right-!?” “Yes. Meares, don’t you worry about that.” “Why send me with paper work?! This all seems fairly suspicious to me!” He was rambling and he knew that he probably shouldn’t have let that become more than just a thought, but Meares couldn’t help it. “You’re not shouting conspiracy, Meares?” “Are you giving me reason to?” There was silence for a moment, before a heavy sigh, “We’ll put you on the case team, see what you can get from our live victim.” “Thank you, Sir. They’re going to call me when the tests are finished.” With that they both hung up, but Meares couldn’t help but think that something was going on: after all, he wouldn’t exactly have called that answer straight. Much more like a bribe not to mention it. Someone isn’t saying something Meares… Watch your back… Was the only conclusion he could draw, dropping his mobile into his pocket he leant his head back against the waiting room wall and closed his eyes. He’d figure it out; that was his job. *** He was woken by a nurse, who led him into a back room. “Well, it’s all fairly conclusive Detective.” “I do like easy.” Meares grinned, but she didn’t find his joke attempt amusing, so he cleared his throat, “What happened to her?” “A fairly heavy dosage of sedative. Ketamine.” “She was drugged? That makes sense… isn’t that like a date rape drug?” “Correct. Although the rape kit has come back negative. And she didn’t ingest it, it was injected into her.” “Someone really knew what they were doing.” She nodded, “She’s not a regular user?” “No. No recent tracks or scars in her skin, she’s clean apart from this.” Meares nodded, mulling the information over, “You say fairly heavy… enough for the memory loss she’s experiencing? There’s also gotta be a reason why I didn’t realise she was alive, right? But Ketamine elevates heart rate?” “In small doses – but this wasn’t a small does, Detective. As for her memory, I wouldn’t say so but it could be a stress reaction, we don’t know what else happened to her tonight, or at any other point. It doesn’t have to be related to the drug.” “I guess I’ll only find out when her memory returns.” “Yes, but she’s doing very well, she’s certainly open to talking to you – in fact she asked for you.” “No doubt, do you think she’s ready for questions?” “Go easy on her, Detective.” “Oh, I promise.” Meares nodded, and he meant it, “Just one last thing. I found her at a crime scene, we had a body that had been almost completely lacerated. When I turn up on the scene her body is in the same place. Could… could it have killed her?” “Any sedative in a high amount could yes, but not the amount in her. Perhaps it is only to sedate the victims until the killer is ready to…” the nurse paused, not willing to spout conjecture, “I will say this, at least, she’s very, very lucky you found her Detective. Less she become just like your body.” “On that, I’m sure we can all agree.” When Meares reappeared in the room that you’d been set up in, your heart couldn’t help but give a flutter of excitement – he surely was a very attractive man, and kind too, although you weren’t sure if you could call him your knight in shining armour. A knight in one-hell-of-a-suit, maybe. Though you noticed his shirt was untucked and his tie a little more slacked than it had been previously. You were dressed in a hospital gown now, but you were still clutching his jacket. His scent was unfamiliar to you, but it was one you liked. Meares sat next to you, once again taking your hand in his; you thought your pulse might run wild and suddenly felt light headed – but you controlled it. “How are you feeling?” “Alright, considering what happened… And thanks to you, god knows what would have happened if-” He stilled you, “Hey, you don’t need to think about that. Sounds like you were on one hell of a trip!” the grin indicated he had just cracked a joke, although your laugh was more embarrassed than anything else, “I… suppose.” “I’m sorry-” His eyes left yours, “I have… never been too good with my comedic timing. I wanted to ask though, Y/N, if you’d be up for answering some questions of mine?” You weren’t sure how much help you’d be, but you certainly wanted to help him. “Of course, Meares, anything.” Anything. His heart almost skipped at that, heat rushing back to places it had no business being. Anything was a big word, and he could think of plenty of things he wanted that were certainly not appropriate to bring up right now! He took a slow breath, c’mon. Be professional! For once! “Well, hey, we have your name now at least. And I have a little data on you from the hospital – with your consent to use it, of course. So, I know your address, we can get you back home, maybe that’ll help too.” Yes, he had your name, and you certainly liked the way he said it. “Oh, of course, use whatever will help your case.” Meares nodded gently, “Well, let’s start simple, do you remember what you were wearing?” “Uhm. Yes.” Although you chewed your lip, blushing – and he caught the red. “It’s okay, it stays in this room.” “Just a short black dress, off shoulder, low cut. Maybe even very low cut. Small split up the side… I remember… I remember thinking that I had to wear my sexiest dress. That was very important.” He raised an eyebrow, “Hot date?” “I-I don’t think so.” Although maybe you’d count this… interview… “Shoes?” “Good heels, yes. But also black, nothing fancy. Uhm, some… obscure brand that you only find in stores like T.K.Maxx…” “So we’re looking for a dress and heels. That’s good, you’re doing great.” He squeezed your hand, “Anything else?” You shook your head, “No, I… I wasn’t wearing-” “Oh. Oh, no, that’s- That’s okay… Dress, heels. We’re hoping your items are at a secondary crime scene. So, any detail is good. Do you remember anything, about where you were?” “…Some crowded part of town. I know, that doesn’t help any but…” “Well, do you have any idea what time? We have plenty of ways of figuring out where – sounds like you’re heading for a night out.” “Yeah, uh, 9:30, maybe closer to 10?” You scrunched your face, “That’s habitual. I don’t think I was meeting someone…” “Well, there’s security footage in the busy parts of town as you can imagine, so, I’ll get a team working on that.” “Thank you.” You took his other hand, and instinct laced your fingers with his, “Meares, I… I don’t know what I would have done if-” “I said don’t think on it. You’re safe. Keep moving forward, okay? Well, okay, maybe any information you do remember would still be good!” You giggled, then gathered his jacket and held it out for him, “And for this, especially.” “Oh!” He looked a little bashful for a second, “It’s not anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.” “But it was you.” There was another silence of understanding as you looked into each other’s eyes; his really did change just like weather. “No…” His tone was quiet, and he pushed it back at you, “Keep it. It looks good on ya.” “Y-You think?” “Mhm.” That small smirk was playful, and made more than just your stomach flutter. Oh… “Well, I guess I should thank you once more, detective.” “Don’t mention it… Just keep talking, maybe that’ll trigger something.” He had the right idea, but for the investigation it proved rather fruitless. Eventually he stopped you, just because you were getting so worked up about it not being useful. But he did learn a little bit about your life, even the most random of details helped Meares build up a picture of you, and that could really help him figure out the ‘why you’. It wasn’t necessarily the same person that had done this to you as had killed the first victim, but if it was there could be a connection somewhere. Perhaps a crime of opportunity, but that was down to Meares and his detective skills to figure out. Some details that you could remember were patchier than others, and as you struggled with the want to give him more information you became less forthcoming with anything you thought was unusable. Meares had taken notes and finally pocketed his notebook. “Y/N, I promise you, everything you’ve told me is important. It helps us build a profile of the person we need to catch too. Maybe there’ll be similarities between you and our victim. Trust me, in an investigation like this no detail is useless or too insignificant. Everything counts. And you’re brave for going through this with me.” He stood, leaning forward he kissed your forehead and you gasped, making him think that once again he’d screwed up professionally. Though Meares was hardly sure he was thinking professionally at the moment; you were a nice girl. Someone he’d actually want to hang out with… that wasn’t just your body talking to him, although that was a somewhat delightful image still burned into his head. He would do anything to bring the person who had done this to justice, he vowed that to himself. “Stay in the hospital tonight, just make sure you’re okay and I’ll come back in the morning, alright?” You nodded, “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, Meares.” Today, by the looks of his watch, but it was still dark. Not tomorrow until you’ve been to bed-! was a rule he liked living by. “Goodnight, Y/N. Try to get some rest.” You smiled, watching him leave, and wishing he didn’t have to go: “Goodnight Detective, you too.” *** Meares did turn up at the hospital the next day for you, and seen as they were good with discharging you, he offered to drive you home. At first you thought that would be fine but, under Meares’ gaze in his car, this time your heart kept running away with your thoughts. He really was gorgeous, and now you were seeing him in natural lighting those blue eyes were even more stunning. Even when you stole glances at him and traced that side profile… Should you be thinking this way about him? Meares was supposed to be investigating what had happened to you, after all. You doubted he’d be able to have a relationship with you; not when the investigation was open. He’d noticed these shy little glances of yours and could barely hold that smirk back, you must have been checking him out. Meares was fine with that of course – and this morning you’d walked out of hospital with his jacket on, and he wasn’t reserved about admiring you in it, especially now sitting in his car again. He knew your address but he was certainly taking the scenic route, Meares’ drive was leisurely at most. Once he did pull up at your home, you were both clearly disappointed. You hesitated, staring up at your front door. Thinking he should probably be being the gentleman right now, Meares rounded the vehicle to open the car door for you – but you just kept staring forward. “I don’t want to go.” Your voice was timid, but he still caught it. “What? Why? You’re home.” “I don’t feel safe here. Not alone.” You shook your head, seemingly shrinking back into your seat, “I can get people posted, or watching the house, if you’re not comfortable.” You shook your head again, “What if whoever did this is watching the house-!? What if they’re waiting for me to be alone, Detective?!” Meares opened his mouth to try to calm you down, but this time his joke faltered. He couldn’t forgive himself if something happened before he arranged for someone to watch out for you. “Y/N… I don’t know what else I can really do with you.” Your big eyes looked up to his, pleading, “Can’t I stay with you? For a little? Until I feel safe again.” He almost did a double take, and hoped he looked level and not like he was about to punch the air – a little like what was happening in his head – “…I don’t know if my supe’s are gonna like that. But I can sure ask. They might pull me off the case to do it. But your safety should be paramount, and you’re a key witness. It’s just-” You knew exactly what he was getting at but tilted your head, “Just what, detective?” Meares for once opted not to run his mouth, and swallowed thickly eyes flicking down your body again – he hoped inconspicuously – “…It’s nothing. Don’t worry. I’ll call them. I have a spare room, don’t you want to collect some things first… though?” So, Meares found himself dropping you at his house. Although he didn’t see how this was helpful for you, considering he still had to leave you alone and work on the case at the precinct. He guessed no one was going to think of finding you here. And, obviously, he was secretly elated… Even though Meares guessed he was about to get heavily reprimanded for this. And he was laid into quite hard, despite his – fairly calm – explanation as to why. Oh yes, of course he wanted to raise his voice, yell about it to be heard – but he didn’t think that would help him in keeping you at his. Upon offering to hand the case to someone else in exchange for making sure you were truly safe, his superior immediately scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve done the hard work.” “I don’t want to compromise anything!” “You should have thought about that before you agreed to let her stay.” “So pull me off, like I said. You have my write up… She’s scared, she doesn’t remember things, I found her… I just think giving her some familiarity and comfort right now is a good idea.” “Familiarity? In a house she’s never seen before?” “You… know what I mean.” “Just, be sensible, Meares.” “Yes Sir.” “You do know how to do that, don’t you?” Meares made the mistake of laughing, and it wasn’t met well, before he turned serious: “Y-Yes. Of course.” The case itself brought about good progress very quickly, with all your files back from the hospital and his own notes – coupled with what they knew about the victim, and witness interviews begun, the team were beginning to shape a picture of events. Fingerprints and DNA helped narrow the list of people who would have been around the warehouse recently, and soon interviewing witnesses became interviewing suspects. Your dress and shoes had been found well within a mile radius from the warehouse, and whilst sweeping the areas around, needles – one containing Ketamine – were also recovered with the DNA of both you and the victim. General consensus was the killer had tampered with the crime scene. That raised questions of its own; why, and how had they been able to? Meares believed that’d lead to some internal investigation – and he was still mindful to be cautious around others in the department - but right now catching this person was paramount. *** Your relationship continued to grow. Although Meares was very careful with what he told you. You understood why, this was his job on the line after all. But of course he kept you updated on your own case; he was determined to catch the person who did this. It was good to see how joyous he became the more information he gathered, and how Meares would always announce ‘we’re close!’ if you asked for an update. You weren’t sure exactly how true that was, considering he’d been saying that for weeks, but you couldn’t help but be happy that he was happy. Detective Meares made you feel safe, safer than you had been for a long time. And as you started to remember little pieces that would help him, Meares got excited to grab his little recorder to make sure he had everything right. You continued to get closer, and you were sure by now you’d outstayed your welcome at his place and you should be heading back home – but neither of you raised the subject of you leaving, and he never asked if you were safe enough to go home, even though it was obvious by your attitude and body language that you were. It started slow – to build to something more than the victim and the detective who had saved your life (probably), you were sitting on the couch together watching TV. Not even a movie, just news reports, but you leaned into him, head on his shoulder. For a moment Meares tensed – not in an uncomfortable, ‘I don’t want this’ way, but in a ‘is this really happening?!’ way. Meares didn’t dare breathe for a minute, and yet as if to prove how much you meant it, you cuddled into him a little more, soaking up his bodily warmth. Meares’ smirk was a little too smug, but you were smiling too, and your cheeks began to hurt as his arm snaked around your shoulders and he pulled you a little closer. Meares knew he probably shouldn’t be doing this. But, fuck it, when had he ever really listened to rules and procedure? You were beautiful, no, you were gorgeous. Wasn’t it the first thing he’d noticed about you anyway? He pulled your body into his, hand settling on your waist; and you didn’t complain. Maybe Meares was right, maybe you wanted him as bad too. Was that a good thing? Well, he knew he would certainly choose to believe it was.

 Pretty soon that dynamic changed, and cuddling on the couch turned into making out on the couch. It didn’t take much persuasion; he’d been staring at you like that ever since he’d first met you and you were certainly hot on him too. As you both leaned closer Meares tilted his head, smirking “Whatcha thinking about Angel Face?” And how you almost returned his smirk as you looked deep into those ever-changing blue eyes, “Kissing you.” Angel Face - That was his nick-name for you, even if he wouldn’t admit how he came to that conclusion, and it just stuck. You soon found out that if you ran your fingers through his hair Meares would groan into the kiss - and it was no wonder that he always liked his hair being messed up. Clearly it was even better for him when you did it. Professionalism be damned, the detective was not about to resist you. And he’d offered to be off the case, fair and square, he didn’t see how they could blame him now. Especially when you looked like that.

Being with him was just so easy; old enough to know better, young enough to still be playful - but he could bounce back from any fuck ups, a little headstrong and rough around the edges… No one was ever perfect though. A good man, even if he spent his time making inappropriate comments or jokes - just as often in content as in his timing. But all of that just made you love him more, that attractive face of his (not to mention his voice) was the best bonus. It only made you wonder what was under his clothes… after all, he already knew what was under yours. And you were fairly certain that was an image burned into his head.

This meant Meares had a particular way of staring at you; you wouldn’t call it predatory, but it had that kind of effect on you. Your pulse ran and your eyes widened and sometimes you struggled to breathe against the weight of his stare; drawing his eyes slowly up and down your body, tilting himself to get better views of you. The way his lips parted and he ran his fingertips over them, or sometimes his tongue before he smirked. Of course he wondered when he’d get to see you naked again. You weren’t sure if that made you more or less scared of it being an eventuality. Sometimes you shied away from him completely. Sometimes you had the confidence but found yourself unable to speak it.

Today was not either of those. Today the stars aligned all from a seemingly innocent sentence. If Meares hadn’t wondered aloud if you were ready to return back to your own house then you probably wouldn’t have had the opportunity to take his hand and turn him back to you. You found the words to be honest: “I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to be alone. Or without you. Again.” For the first time Meares saw something in you that he hadn’t before. Whilst the sentence had been said in all innocence there was a wildness in your eyes. An untameable force that somehow you were holding back. You very nearly stole his breath with that look alone. He kissed you hard and fast; slipping out of his own jacket before reaching out to pull your hips to his.

When he broke away from you, the look on your face was of slight wonder. Yet that wildness was still there - and the trembling he felt under his fingertips was not because you were nervous and scared. It was because of what you were holding back: this didn’t match the personality that you’d been showing off to him; shy and sweet and delicate. Meares wondered which was real, this or the girl he thought you were just pretending to be. Cupping your face in his large hands his next kiss was delicate, lips barely touching yours. “Don’t hold back now Angel Face.”

He found himself yanked back to you almost angrily by his tie, the look in your eyes not hiding now. Oh, you didn’t intend to.

 ***

 He was falling for you. And hard. Meares didn’t want to call it love yet, but he thought it could be. He wasn’t sure he was simply in lust with you - but he’d keep that option on the table. You were always lingering in the back of his mind, and now he knew what your sex was like you weren’t just an image of a naked body, but a whole experience. And every so often you’d use this to your advantage, and send him pictures that made him smirk and text eagerly back: ‘Bad girls get put in handcuffs, you know?’

 Of course, all this had to happen right around the time of the major case break through. And not a breakthrough Meares particularly wanted. One day he was called down to the forensics room, and was faced with a mix of items of both yours and the first victims. They had been through everything again, and again, and again and nothing. Meares hoped that today was the day they’d finally find something that would help. “Detective, we will have to simply call it.” “We can’t give up on them! The killer is still out there!” “There’s nothing more we can do. Nothing - if we go on evidence alone now, logically there’s conclusions that must be drawn.” Meares sighed and placed his hands flat on the table, stretching his body back behind him; “Give it to me again.” “There’s NO other DNA in that warehouse, on her clothes, nothing.” “No other person?” “None.” “No evidence that anyone else was involved?” Meares wanted there to be another angle, something beyond what he felt – with dread – that this was all building to. “No. And we have tested and retested everything.” As you well know, this seemed to say. “…What about our first body?” “Well, here’s the interesting thing.” “What?” And why hadn’t this ‘interesting thing’ been raised!? Meares knew he sounded more annoyed than he did elated at this potential breakthrough. “Same sedative.” “So what, they were coming back for her?” That didn’t make things any better. He certainly was glad he’d found you if that was the conclusion. There was awkward hesitation, before the technician cleared his throat: “…Prints on the syringe are hers.” Meares raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding: “They… forced her to do it to… herself?” “Meares…” The look was pointed, “You know what the evidence is saying.”

Meares set his tablet up on the kitchen side, staring at it hard, before taking a stylus and trying to connect all the dots virtually. He’d been trying to do this in the office all day - and he almost had it but there were blanks that he was drawing that he still didn’t understand. They could easily have forced you into it, he doubted they’d forced you to inject someone else. But he suspected they could have had you self-inject. That’s what Meares wanted, but that wasn’t what the evidence was saying. That was never what the evidence was saying.

He had to be sure, and he’d found the security tapes of the warehouse opposite: terrible quality of course, and grainy. They’d already been dismissed by the team as being insufficient to gather anything from. But if you looked hard enough, if you knew what you were looking for, you’d find it. And he unfortunately did. This figure that he was seeing was you. It had to be you - it wasn’t like he could see your face, but he was living with you. He knew your body, he knew the way walked, the attitude you put into steps. This wasn’t that shy act either, this was careful and calculating. The person he knew, sure, but there was a horrendous chill that ran up his spine. Like he was watching some kind of horror movie. No one else went in or out of the warehouse after you. Then you came back out - he fast forwarded all the police investigators turning up - but you returned later… then nothing, until he showed up. And Meares knew the rest.

 “Oh. SHIT.” His head bent forward and he rested it on the cold side. It’s you. It had to be you. Meares couldn’t help but admit his heart was a little broken, that he felt a little nervous and sick. Where were you? Were you here? A killer in his house; someone he trusted, he had feelings for, that he’d told about his life. Was everything you’d told him about yourself a lie? You didn’t remember anything, because there was nothing to remember. You’d killed someone, drugged yourself to make yourself look like a victim… watched the warehouse while the police did their work… but why? The why had him so confused. And it was a question he couldn’t answer. Meares wouldn’t put you in handcuffs until he had the whole story.

 But he heard the sound behind him all too late, and as he straightened to react you grabbed him. Meares didn’t really have time to struggle, you’d been watching him - and bless his heart he was struggling. With the truth - but he didn’t know the whole truth just yet. You placed your hand over his mouth to stop him from crying out and sunk that needle in; no hesitation in injecting the heavy sedative into his veins. “Figured it out yet… Detective?”

 ***

 Meares took a little longer to come around from the sedative than you’d have liked. No doubt it was the same one that you had used on yourself and your victim. Damn did he feel like an idiot. And drowsy. And have one hell of a pounding headache.

Didn’t take very many of his detective skills to figure out he was tied to a chair, hands bound too. He thought back to that first description; bruising and ligature marks. Looking around it seemed a little like he’d been put back in another warehouse. Though this one looked a little cleaner than the one he’d been investigating. Eventually his eyes fell on the figure approaching him; and Meares glared.

“You?!? It was you all along?!?” He sounded much more hurt than he wanted to, “Why would you do that?!?” You stopped a few feet from him, hands in your pockets, head tipped as you surveyed his body. It was slightly gratuitous, but he could hardly complain about it after what he’d been doing to yours. Meares supposed that he should be thankful he wasn’t naked. Then again...

You took a breath, and once again answered too honestly. “For you.” Meares squinted, disbelieving: “What the fuck!?” That made no sense. “Are you kidding!?” You shook your head, “Detective Meares I’ve been watching you for a very, very long time. And is it any wonder, just look at you.” You paused, biting your lip seductively. He hated to admit it was almost working, “...What better way to finally meet you? And the fact that you were the first man on the scene for me. Couldn’t have worked out better.” He swallowed, backing up as far as the chair and restraints would allow: “There’s better ways to get my attention.” “Oh, but it did... didn’t it. Get your attention.” You took a step back, but your eyes didn’t leave his, “Or I did.”

Meares face was illuminated fairly well by the dim lighting, and his cheeks flushed. Yes - but he’d only admit that in his head right now. Of course you’d caught his attention. Look at you. You were gorgeous.  ‘She’s a fucking killer though, Meares, c’mon!’ Although he wasn’t really listening to that reasoning anymore as his eyes flicked up and down your body once more. He found himself struggling against the restraints. You smirked, “I wouldn’t do that, they’re your handcuffs.” Meares did the unexpected and smirked back, with a raised eyebrow, “Little kinky?” You gave him a look of amusement, but disappeared for a moment into the gloom. That made him panic a little and strain against the cuffs and binds again. No luck.

When you returned you placed a stool in front of his chair and sat opposite him, twisting the keys to his cuffs around your finger. “You want out?” Meares stared at the keys for a long while, before looking back to your face, then the keys, and then your face once more. When that gorgeous blue returned to the keys, Meares took a deep breath; he wouldn’t lie, he was in two minds here. ‘What’s she gonna do if I say yes, actually this is weirdly turning me on. If it weren’t for the context I’d actually quite like her to be in charge if we’re gonna fuck?...’ His eyes returned slowly to your face but you recognised that swallow; you knew exactly where Meares’ mind was at and what you were doing to him. That man was craving you, even now. “What are you gonna do to me? You gonna kill me now?” “Nothing you won’t like.”

A shiver of excitement ran his spine and he cursed himself, the widening of your smirk meant you’d seen it, and the way his pupils dilated. “I want answers.” “I don’t think you do. You want means and motive. I saw opportunity and your jurisdiction.” “You drugged yourself, stripped naked and… no maybe that was for me.” You enjoyed the way that blush rose on his face again. “Yes, Although I wasn’t really meant to inject quite so much sedative. I’m sure your labs will figure I have enough immunity to have got back to the crime scene after stripping off before it kicked in. And yes, of course for you.” You tilted your head, arms folded for a second, “I didn’t meant to go that hard; and it did affect my memory momentarily.” “You’ve… also obstructed the course of justice.” “There was no attack for me to remember.” “And the guy you… lacerated?” You shrugged, “Just some guy.” “...You- he was a random vic?” “Not entirely, but I’m sure you know by now he won’t be missed.” “You can’t just… do things like that.” Meares’ look was hard, his tone disgusted. “No, but I did.” “You’re psycho-!” “Little emotional there, detective.” He scoffed, “You expect me not to be?!” His eyes narrowed and for a moment hurt genuinely flickered across his face: “I can’t believe I fell for you, can’t believe I slept with you. Holy shit what have I got myself into-!?” “I just told you…” Your voice softened, and you leant forward, hands on his knees you pushed his legs apart. That shade of red on his face got deeper as his eyes widened: “So what, we’re gonna hate fuck now?” Your head tipped and you said it almost sweetly, “Not exactly.”

For a moment you left your stool and sat between his feet, arms up over his left thigh you leant against leg, eyes almost pure and innocent. “Oh. FUCK!” He had to voice something in realisation, after all. “Baby…” You ran your fingers up his inner thigh and loved the way he tensed under you, “Just let me take care of you.” “Y-Y/N…” His breathing hitched, should he want this? Shouldn’t he watch this? This was certainly going to fuck up his case. If it wasn’t already fucked. “You’re so god damn sexy when you’re frustrated…” Your voice purred and his body threatened to shudder once more. Meares felt himself getting hot, and that feeling was very quickly travelling down his body. “Geez, will ya just do it?!” His voice a mixture of anguish and yearning. There was underlying lust there too you were certain to capitalise on. You were certain you’d probably let him go; you didn’t want to have to kill him… What he would do to you, you weren’t sure. But you knew the implications of his relationship with you to the case. Well, he had warned them.

 You smiled gently, eager to please, pulling the stool forward with your foot you sat back on it, leaning up to kiss him. “Do you want out of the cuffs?” He thought about his hands in your hair, about the control that would give him. “Mhm…” His voice wavered with what he was trying to hold back, you reached behind him and unlatched them, “Don’t worry, Detective, I trust you…” “I don’t know if I trust you,” then he smirked, “Angel Face.” You tsked him, giving him one last slow kiss, before your hands travelled to his belt, “I probably should have told you not to call me Angel… but that might have given it all away…” “Oh yeah…” Meares groaned at the sound of his zip coming undone and you sank back onto the stool properly. “That woulda done it…” You leant back on his knees, smile playful, “Just relax, Meares. Enjoy yourself.” “I’m not sure I’m gonna call it that right now.” You ran your tongue across your lips to wet them, “We’ll see, Detective… I’m sure you’ll find a way to appreciate this.” “Well…” He breathed deep again as you forced his legs a little wider, bringing his hands around, just itching to tangle in your hair, “Won’t say I won’t love the view…”

---

Cheers guys, I owe ya!  🤣

[iceeckos12]

ouch oof i am sad

remember the scene that @pitviperofdoom was talking about in this post? well this was something she mentioned in the discord server and because i am always a sucker for a good angst, i wrote an entire Thing for it. content warnings under the cut

basically: assistant archivist au where gerry did die. mentions of past character death

Jon’s quiet as Julia explains how to pull Gerard Keay from the page. This is not unusual in and of itself. Jon is not the type of person to fill spaces with endless chatter, or to make small talk for the sake of it. Martin and Jon’s friendship has been characterized by long, comfortable silences and the conversation they make between each one.

This is different, though. Martin can’t tell if it’s because of his connection with the Beholding that he knows, or if he’s just gotten better at reading Jon, but this is - wrong. The last conversation that they had, if you could call it a conversation at all, was Jon quietly asking if they could stop by Pittsburgh to visit the hospital where Gerard Keay died. Since then, he’s been mostly lost in thought.

Martin knows that Jon and Gerard worked together with Gertrude. He’s inferred that they were friends, because Martin has learned to read the quiet grief that crosses Jon’s face whenever Gerard is mentioned. Now he’s wondering if they were closer than he realized.

He doesn’t dare ask though, not in front of Julia. And he’s not even sure that Jon would tell him if he did ask. So he sets aside his worry, turns to the Hunter, and says, “Thank you, Julia.”

Her smile is full of teeth. “Give the door a knock when you’re done.”

Martin watches her go, unwilling to take his eyes off of her for more than a moment. When the door finally clicks shut, he lets out a quiet sigh of relief and looks down to find Jon holding the book in his hands, staring at it, perfectly still.

“...Jon?”

Jon jumps and looks up, his lips pressed into a thin, bitten line, his eyes slightly wild.

Martin knows how to handle Jon when he’s scared, when he’s cruel. He knows how to handle Jon when he’s simmering with anger, when he’s exhausted and frayed about the edges. This is completely new, and he shifts at the unwelcome, familiar feeling of uncertainty. “Do you...want me to do it?”

Jon immediately shakes his head, so quick it looks painful. “No. No, I should…” he takes a deep breath, scrubs his hand through his hair. He takes a few quick steps forward, then turns around, the book pressed to his stomach. “I’ll do it.”

Martin opens his mouth to question the wisdom of that idea, but then Jon is flipping open the book to the last page. He clears his throat once, twice, and then, “His consciousness faded in and out like the tide.”

Jon’s voice breaks on the last word, and he stops.

“...Jon?”

Martin watches the gentle bob of Jon’s throat as he swallows. Then he shakes his head and says in a voice much stronger and clearer than before, “His consciousness faded in and out like the tide. He tried to refuse their drugs…”

He continues talking, his voice rising and falling with every word, like he’s reading just another statement. He slows as he reaches the last few sentences.

“...And his only thought was to cry out for the one he loved. He could feel small, familiar hands gripping his, the soft rise and fall of a voice, hushed like a prayer. The name fell from his lips, but he couldn’t be sure whether or not he had been heard. He hoped that he had been heard. And so Gerard Keay ended.”

Gerard Keay stands in the center of the room. He’s wearing all black, which Martin had expected. Black trench coat, black trousers, black boots, eyes made sharp with makeup. He looks like he just raided the shelves of a Hot Topic, only he makes it work.

Gerard’s gaze flickers from Martin to Jon, and for a moment there is no recognition, no comprehension. He opens his mouth - and then he stills, his eyebrows coming together in vague confusion. His jaw slackens, and his eyes widen, and his expression is cracked open like an egg, revealing the vulnerable yolk beneath.

Jon makes a sound. Martin could not characterize that sound even if he wanted to. It sounds like - like all of Jon’s insides have been scooped out of him, like he’s surrounded by air but he can’t get a breath, like - grief. It sounds like pure, mortal grief.

Just like that, Martin understands.

“Jon,” Gerard Keay says.

And then Jon bursts into tears.

“Gerry,” Jon gasps, but when he reaches out his hand goes right through Gerry’s sleeve. “Gerry, I - “

“Jon,” Gerry steps in close, his hands framing Jon’s face, staring at him the way a drowning man stares at a life raft.

“I’m sorry,” Jon manages. “Gerry I’m so - I promise, I didn’t know, I - “

“It’s okay,” Gerry reaches for Jon’s hair reflexively, but freezes when his fingertips disappear into Jon’s forehead. His expression crumples. “It’s fine, I know. I know. Jon, Jon - ”

And then they’re both crying, tears dripping down. Jon’s face is buried in his hands, and he’s weeping, keening, and Gerry keeps reaching for him, but there’s no way to connect, no way to touch. There’s no relief. It’s just shared grief, endless and pervasive and shattering.

Martin turns away and frantically scrubs his hands across his face. Oh, God. He feels so guilty, but he doesn’t want to be here right now. There is a Shakespearean tragedy playing out before his eyes, the kind that’s brimming with heartache and things left unsaid, and he is powerless against it.

Finally, mercifully, the sound of crying dies away into exhausted silence, except for thick, heavy breathing. Martin keeps his back to them, wanting to give them some semblance of privacy for a conversation that they obviously need to have.

“...so where is she?”

Jon huffs out a quiet laugh, lacking humor, edged with hurt. “Dead. Shot to the chest.”

“Figures.” A meaningful pause. “So are you...”

“Oh, no. No, it’s...oh. Martin?”

Martin sniffs hard and drags his hands over his cheeks before turning around, forcing a smile on his face. Jon and Gerry are standing as close to each other as they can without touching, twin tracks of silver tears on their cheeks.  “Hi, sorry. Just...wanted to give you two a bit of privacy. Martin Blackwood, Head Archivist.”

Gerry dips his chin in acknowledgement, before turning his confused gaze back to Jon. “I thought…?”

“He knows,” Jon says quickly. “I’m...well. It’s complicated. Gertrude hid a lot more from us than we knew.” There’s still a raw hurt in Jon’s voice when he says that, mixed with a lingering sort of nostalgia.

Gerry grimaces. “Did she know about…”

Martin doesn’t realize what he’s asking about until he gestures toward his head, a helpless, reluctant sort of gesture.

“I - maybe?” Jon shakes his head, for the first time turning out of Gerry’s orbit, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’d like to think not, but...it doesn’t matter now. She’s gone. We’ll never know.”

There is a moment of silence. Martin bites his lip, then forces himself to stop when he realizes that he’s already chewed it bloody. It’s hard to watch Jon draw back into himself, put the pain where it can only hurt himself.

“Hey,” Gerry reaches for Jon’s chin, frowns when his hand sinks into the skin. He shakes his head and walks around so he can insert himself into Jon’s field of vision. “Stop. I can feel you blaming yourself, okay? Just...stop. It’s not your fault.”

“...but I should’ve -”

“I am not letting you use this as another stick you beat yourself with,” Gerry interrupts firmly. “You read my page, didn’t you? I didn’t die alone. I’m sorry that you had to go through that, but you don’t understand how much I -”

He breaks off. Jon’s breath rattles dangerously again.

“I always thought that I was going to die alone,” Gerry finishes.

There’s another moment of silence. Jon puts his head in his hands again, and Martin aches at the way Gerry’s face crumples with the desire to reach out, to comfort. They’re in the same room, but there’s a yawning, uncrossable distance between them.

Then Jon lowers his hands. There’s a spark in his eyes that Martin recognizes: the scarce moments before an inferno, before manic determination sets Jon’s whole being ablaze. “Gerry, I’m getting you out of here. I can - you and me, we can figure it out. We can -”

“No.”

Jon pauses. The spark jolts, catches on the cool wave of his confusion. “...what?”

“I’m dead, Jon,” Gerry reaches out for Jon again, then stops. Lets his arm fall to his side, clenches his fists. “I can’t live like this.”

Breathless hurt snatches across Jon’s face. “No, Gerry. I can’t - not when I’ve just found you, I -”

“It hurts, Jon,” Gerry interrupts, and he does not seem like the type to beg, but his voice dips at the end with a desperate plea. “It...it hurts, all the time, and...I just want to rest. Please, just let me rest.”

Jon swallows once. Twice, and his face crumples with sympathy, with empathy, with that awful exhaustion that they’ve all been wearing since what feels like forever. After a moment, he nods.

Gerry lets out a low, quiet sigh of relief, tension draining from his broad shoulders. He smiles faintly, ghosting his knuckles against Jon’s cheek. Jon leans into the touch even though he must not be able to feel it, his eyes fluttering shut, mouth drawn.

“I wish you were here,” Jon whispers.

“Yeah,” Gerry steps back, hiding his expression behind his long curtain of black hair. “Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence. A rearranging of expressions, a folding of hurt and pain back where it can no longer be seen. Jon is once again himself, his expression distant, and Gerry is wry and so very, very dead.

Gerry turns to Martin and smiles. “I wish we had met under better circumstances, Martin.”

Martin swallows, trying to unearth his voice. “Yeah. Me too.”

Then Gerry turns back to Jon. “You know what to do.”

Jon nods again, sharp and short. “I...I dismiss you.”

Gerry closes his eyes, and the whole room sighs as he dissipates into nothing.

Jon stands alone in the middle of the room, spine so straight there may as well be an iron rod put up the back of it. Martin doesn’t even know what the hell he is supposed to say. There is nothing he can do to make this better. How the hell is he supposed to make this better?

The moment passes. Jon’s shoulders slump, and when he turns back to Martin, his eyes are empty.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he says monotonously.

Martin cannot do this. Martin cannot just stand there while Jon apologizes and looks at him like that, and -

“Don’t apologize,” he steps forward. “Can I hug you? Please?”

Jon thinks about that for a moment. When he eventually nods, Martin crosses the short distance between them and folds Jon into his arms, trying to ease the sharpness of the pain he surely must be feeling. He can’t make it better, but he can make sure that Jon knows that he isn’t alone. He can do this.

Jon doesn’t move for a moment, his face pressed into Martin’s shoulder, his arms loose at his sides. But just when Martin is about to pull away, he slowly reaches up, curls his hands in the fabric of Martin’s shirt. Lowers his head so he is half-buried in Martin’s embrace. He was already small, but he tries to make himself smaller, like he’s trying to hide himself in the folds of Martin’s pullover.

Eventually, he lets go. Eventually he steps back, letting his bangs hide his eyes, and goes to pick up the book. Martin watches his painful, slow movements, as though he’s filled with bruises from the inside out. He’s so distracted that Jon’s voice almost makes him jump.

“You should…you should do it.”

Martin shakes himself. “Sorry?”

“Burn his page,” Jon elaborates, holding the book out to Martin.

Martin gapes at him, stunned, because - “Um. No? Jon, why -”

“I can’t be the only person who’s ever done right by him.”

Oh. Well, when he puts it like that.

Martin swallows and takes the book gingerly, like he’s holding something precious. He flips to the last page and carefully tears it out, ignoring the way Jon’s breath catches at the soft ripping sound. Then he folds the page and puts it into his pocket, trying not to let on how nervous he is about having this precious page on his person. Trying not to let on how nervous Jon’s complete and utter trust makes him.

He is painfully aware of how many times that trust has been broken.

“Are you ready?” Martin asks.

Jon finally looks away from Martin’s pocket. “Yes. Let’s go.”

[supercasey]

TMA PMV Idea “The Dreamland Archives”

Fuck it, TMA ended so now I’m gonna post my draft sheet for a PMV I desperately wish to make, but don’t have the skills to do so. If anyone wants to use it, go ahead, but I’d like to at least know about it beforehand because I am INVESTED in this idea. (Spoilers for seasons 1-4)

(Credits/intro plays before the vocals begin)

Song: Dreamland by Glass Animals

All characters belong to Rusty Quill

*Insert list of PMV participants*

Supertheodore presents: The Dreamland Archives

Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [Camera is focused on the door to the archives, which opens by itself after the word “backstreets”] Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist [Camera shows the archives empty, and then filled with all of Jon's assistants after the word “dreamland” (including OG!Sasha, though her and Tim appear to be ghosts), all of them appearing happy and hard at work] Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [A photograph of Jon with all of the S1 assistants + Elias, everyone smiling; after the word “backstreets” it’s the S3 crew, everyone appearing upset/angry, save for Jon, who’s crying and covering his face with his hands, and Elias, who’s still smiling and has his hands on both of Jon’s shoulders] Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist [Jon is on his knees as he looks through a filing cabinet, clearly frustrated; after the word “dreamland” a ghost of Gertrude appears behind him, her arms crossed as she stands behind him, appearing disappointed]

That first friend you had, that worst thing you said [Martin is bringing a very tired Jon, who has his head in his hands, a cup of tea; Jon looks up and snaps at him after the word “had”, causing Martin to startle] That perfect moment, that last tear you shed [Tim, Martin, and even Jon are laughing at a joke that Sasha said, all three of them surrounding her desk; after the word “moment” Sasha is gone, and the others are left crying/upset] All you've done in bed, all on Memorex [Martin is alone in the archive’s storage room bed, wide awake and holding a corkscrew for dear life; after the word “bed” it cuts to Tim, who is angrily throwing a tape recorder against the nearest wall] All 'round-'round your head, all 'round-'round your head [Camera pans down from a single light-bulb to focus on Jon, who's silently crying in his office chair and surrounded by tape recorders splattered with blood (all in the shape of eyes, all staring at him)]

Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [Jon is traveling the tunnels alone as he uses a flashlight to light his way; after the word “backstreets” it's a similar shot, but now he's running for his life from Not!Sasha] Slippin’ through dreamland like a tourist [Jon is sitting in front of Jurgen Leitner as Jurgen explains what’s really going on to him; after the word “dreamland” Jurgen is bloodied up and dead, with Jon looking horrified, a bloody pipe rests on the table between them] Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [Martin and Tim run into Michael in the tunnels; after the word “backstreets” they find themselves in the realm of the Spiral] Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist [Martin and Tim are both shocked upon finding Jurgen Leitner's body; Tim becomes angry while Martin becomes worried after the word “dreamland”]

You've had too much of the digital love [Jon is sitting on the floor of Georgie's apartment, one hand holding a tape recorder, the other holding his head; after the word “much” the Admiral crawls into his lap, making Jon smile slightly] You want everything live, you want things you can touch [Jon is sitting across from Jude Perry at a cafe, looking nervous while she gives him a mischievous grin; after the word “live” it cuts to Jon free falling through the sky with Mike Crew, Mike seemingly unbothered by the whole thing while Jon looks terrified] Make it feel like a movie you saw in your youth [Shows the scene of Jon, at 8 years old, following his childhood bully to Mr. Spider’s house; the door opens and several spiders legs come out and take the bully after the word “movie”, leaving Jon terrified and covering his mouth to keep back a scream] Make it feel like that song that just unopened you [Camera is focused on Jon tied up and gagged in a chair as Nikola Orsinov brags into his tape recorder about having kidnapped him, her back turned to him the entire time; however, Michael and his door appear beside Jon after the word “song”, Jon looking very surprised/scared to see him] You were ten years old, holdin' hands in the classroom [Tim is helping Jon limp through the tunnels under the institute, the two of them looking pretty beat up; their holds tighten on each other after the word “old”, with Jon pressing his face into Tim’s shirt. Even though they’re scared, they still have each other’s backs] He had a gun on the first day of high school [Tim has his back to the camera and is facing a burning circus, triumphantly holding the detonation switch over his head; after the word “the” he presses it, causing the circus to explode, with Tim being lost to the explosion after the word “of”]  ((This line and the one before it are the reasons why this stupid idea exists)) You want something bizarre, old conceptual cars [Helen is standing in the doorway of the Spiral, grinning at the camera; after the word "bizarre” Peter Lukas is standing at the frontmost part of the Tundra, smoking a pipe with one hand while the other is in his coat pocket] You want girls dressed in drag, you want boys with guitars [Melanie slashes at the camera with a knife, her eyes glowing red; after the word “drag” we see Gerry as ghost levitating in the air and lying on his back, his arms behind his head and a content smile on his face while Jon’s panicking right next to him (and wearing a tacky “I <3 NY” t-shirt ‘cus I said so)]

Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [Jon is lying in a hospital bed during his coma, fast asleep, with Elias sitting in a chair beside him, reading a statement aloud; Elias lays a hand on Jon’s forehead after the word “backstreets”] Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist [Oliver comes to visit Jon at the hospital, and is leaned over Jon (from Jon’s POV for the camera angle); after the word “dreamland” it cuts to him having his back to Jon, hands up in surrender as he faces a suspicious Georgie] Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [Jon looks incredibly stressed in a shot of the archives, looking around for Martin; after the word “backstreets” Martin shows up in a cloud of fog behind him, visibly sad] Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist [Jon is crawling through the Buried, looking for Daisy, who he finds as a disheveled mess after the word “dreamland”]

You see Kodachrome, you see pink and gold [Melanie is laughing while sitting on Jon’s desk facing Basira after recording a statement; after the word “Kodachrome” it’s the same scene, but her and Jon are standing up, and she’s hugging Jon before she’s about to go and blind herself] You see Mulholland glow, you see in airplane mode [Jon and Daisy are sprawled out together on the floor of the archives, listening to the Archers and laughing; after the word “glow” it’s Basira and Daisy kneeling in the same spot, Basira trying to hold onto Daisy and keep her from giving into the Hunt as she begins to change into a werewolf] All 'round-'round your head, all 'round-'round your head [Jon and Basira are interrogating Manuela about the location of the dark sun; after the first use of the word “head” it cuts to Jon seeing the dark sun with his own eyes, tears running down his face as he smiles at it] All 'round-'round your head, all 'round-'round your head [Martin and Peter are navigating the tunnels together, Martin looking frustrated while Peter smiles; after the first use of the word “head” it cuts to Martin discovering the body of Jonah Magnus, his expression one of terror]

You float in the pool where the soundtrack is canned [Jon is searching the Lonely for Martin, calling out for him through the fog; after the word “pool” a smug looking Peter appears behind him, causing Jon to jolt in surprise] You go ask your questions like, “What makes a man?” [Jon confronts Peter, screaming at him from a few feet away; after the word “like” his eyes begin to glow green, and several glowing green eyes surround him and Peter, with Peter bending forward and clutching his head in pain] Oh, it's 2020, so it's time to change that [Jon is facing Martin in the Lonely, pleading with him face to face with his hands on his cheeks; after the word “2020” Martin’s eyes light up as he finally breaks free of the Lonely’s influence] So you go make an album and call it Dreamland [Jon and Martin are seen hugging each other for dear life; after the word “album” the scene cuts to them walking out of the Lonely together, hand in hand with their backs to the camera; the camera zooms in on their hands holding onto each other at the word “Dreamland”]

((I’m open to a few changes, but I will die before I let go of the Tim & Jon scene, which lives in my brain rent free))

[wild-aloof-rebel]

y’all asked for a recap of the austin up close and personal shows, so i’m gonna do my best to give that to you. it was pretty similar to the other shows (which already are similar to things you can find in other interviews) so there isn’t a ton of new info here, but here it is anyway. under a cut because it’s gonna be long (and my immense apologies to people on mobile for whom we all know this won’t actually include a cut):

the show begins with the recap clip package from before s5 aired. i was a little sad to see they hadn’t updated it to include any new stuff, but it’s understandable i guess. even though i’d seen it before, did i start crying as soon as it started playing anyway? absolutely. was it amazing to be in a room full of people cheering for david and patrick’s first kiss? fuck yes.

dan and eugene come out on stage first for some father and son shenanigans. eugene jokes that dan is a big longhorns fan, to which dan replies that he doesn’t know what that is. they laugh at both shows about various sections of empty seats, even though the theater is supposed to be sold out. eugene jokes that he came up with the idea for the show while dan makes Dan Faces at him. dan says that they’ve been drinking frosé at the hotel all afternoon. eugene talks briefly about how proud he is of dan, and during one of the two shows you can basically see dan trying to shrink back into his leather jacket and hide--it’s so fucking cute how badly he takes compliments. (also, inserted side note that dan looks incredible, as usual, and i have to commend his commitment to his aesthetic for wearing a leather jacket in 80+ degree weather). and then they introduce the cast--noah, emily, annie, and finally catherine, who for good and obvious reasons gets a standing ovation at both shows.

the discussion starts with eugene and catherine talking about filming waiting for guffman because it was filmed in lockhart, texas, which is part of the austin metro area. they talk about eating a lot of barbecue during filming, and catherine says that that restaurant had a huge mural of like, bloody butchers on the wall, which was of course horribly unappetizing. from there they move into talking about all the couples they’ve played. dan asks if they have a favorite aside from johnny and moira, and they both agree it’s gerry and cookie from best in show. during one show, eugene tells the story of how he and christopher guest came up with the two left feet gag, and catherine jokes that moira’s backstory is similar to cookie’s, in that she has a trail of ex-lovers who consider their time with her to be the best sex of their lives. then they sing “god loves a terrier”

next they move into audition stories from annie, emily, and noah. annie talks about the bad spot she was in before the audition (during which emily cracked up, as is tradition for telling this story)--house burned down, $500 in the bank, blown her first screen test, and considering changing careers--how she read and tested for both alexis and stevie, and how it took 2 1/2 weeks for dan to call her back after her screen test, during which time she of course came to the conclusion she didn’t get either part. and dan when he called, of course was... well, dan, and left her hanging for as long as possible before asking finally asking if she wanted to play his sister. (he defends himself by saying punk’d was popular at the time, and he thought it would be funny.) emily talks about her similarly bad spot before her audition--divorce, no jobs, $800 in the bank--and the rumor that she took her top off during it. dan jumps in to clarify that in reality, she had a great audition and instead of saying thanks and leaving the room at the end, she sat down on the sofa, pulled the collar of her sweatshirt up over her head, and began rocking back and forth saying “that was awful, that was so bad, oh god...” dan also points out that her taking her top off would have done absolutely nothing for him, lmao, which then leads to noah joking that the first thing he did in his audition was take his top off. (I LOVE THEM) dan says noah was “underprepared” for his audition, to which noah argues that he prepared a lot--learned his lines, thought a lot about the character, etc.--but he didn’t watch any of the show, for which dan apparently still holds a grudge against him. he says dan also gives him shit for not having seen paddington 2, and dan reveals the ultimate travesty that noah has also not seen pretty woman.

for the next segment, each actor talks about their character. eugene talks about playing the straight man for once and how that differs from all the other roles he’s played. emily, during the second show, feels the need to clarify what he means by “straight man” since there are other connotations to that phrase, lol. 

there’s a brief moira clip package, and catherine talks about the origins of moira’s voice/pronunciation/vocabulary, dropping into the voice to refer to it as “mementos of her world travels” that she “bestows as a gift on the less travelled and less educated [which has about sixteen syllables in it]” as “an amuse bouche of what it’s like to walk in her givenchy shoes.” she also jokes during the second show that it’s a good thing dan didn’t make her audition to play moira because if she had come in with that voice/inflection, they would have thought she was having a stroke. dan asks her if she has a favorite wig--she doesn’t because it would be like asking her to choose her favorite “bébé”--but she does talk about how much fun it is to wear them in ways they weren’t intended, including as a hat, a look she refers to as her “director’s beret.”

annie talks about the influences of the kardashians, lindsay lohan, and the olsen twins on alexis’s speech and mannerisms. she talks about her vocal fry and how it’s essentially such a “lazy fucking way” of talking, as well as the origin of the alexis hands and how it came from the way they all hold their handbags. (her thought process: what if there was no handbag? and what if i turned my hand over? and what if i added another hand?) she also mentions that someone recently contacted her on instagram very concerned for her health because apparently her wrists being like that could be a symptom of some terrible disease. (she clarified that she doesn’t have any of the other symptoms lol). dan says it looks more like she was in a horrific accident, broke both wrists, and just decided not to get them fixed. annie insists that it’s actually very relaxing and that we should all try it before we fall asleep at night, lol. then there’s a whole conversation about the popularity of “ew david” and all the places it’s popped up--lapel pins, doormats, needlepoint, license plates--and annie says someone pointed out on twitter recently that she only actually says it twice in the show. [that’s actually wrong, she says it three times plus an “ew, no, david,” but the point still stands that she says it far less than people think she does.] dan jokes about how he didn’t realize when they wrote that line that people would someday be yelling “ew” at him when he walks by on the street.

emily talks about her similarities to stevie, starting with how they dress, and how much she loves just getting to sit behind the desk playing sudoku and solitaire all day. she says sometimes directors will be like, what if stevie was dusting in this scene? “why?!” maybe she wants to make coffee. “not that coffee!” and so emily stays happy and comfy behind the desk all the time, calling it the best job she’s ever had, and eugene confirms that hanging out behind the desk is indeed pretty nice.

dan asks noah about what it’s like to play basically the only sane person on the show. he talks about how interacting with the roses is a bit like watching a tv show or a family of aliens--it’s entertaining and you’re always waiting for what reference is gonna pop up next to what celebrity they did what with. he says that the day david walked into ray’s, for patrick it was like “discovering a unicorn.” he also mentions that one of his all-time favorite lines from the show is “it’s a general store, but it’s also a very specific store.”

they cover some fan creations, including the taxidermied rats that dan talked about on james corden, a couple of dogs dressed up like the roses, a planter with eugene’s face drawn on it, a little crocheted david and patrick, and a romance novel cover-style manip of david and stevie “behind the scenes” of the turkey shoot.

they talk a bit about cabaret, which is the only part of s5 that really gets discussed anywhere. noah and emily talk about how difficult the dancing was for the “money” scene (dan jokes that it was particularly difficult for emily since it didn’t consist of sitting behind a desk), how they both watched the video of the professionals doing it and thought it looked easy but that it was not. they talk about dan sending them for vitamin drips, and noah demonstrates a bit of the dance that they had particular trouble getting and that led to the choreographer trying to get emily even to just walk rather than doing the move and she still struggled. (here’s a brief video of that bit.) annie also joins in the discussion to talk about “willkommen” and how the choreographer was always so upset that they weren’t nailing the moves the way he wanted them to (her kick toward the end of the routine gets a special mention there), and they would just use the excuse of “well my character wouldn’t be a great dancer” to cover up for the fact that they couldn’t really do it lol. dan laughs about the fact that he wrote himself out of alla that mess.

dan asks noah to talk about his version of “the best.” noah says he knew how much the song meant to dan (they joke in one show about how dan is the kind of person who would hear the original in a club somewhere and beg everyone around him like “okay, but actually listen to the lyrics...”) and how difficult it was to figure out how to take something that’s so poppy and far from his usual style and transform it into something that would work for him. he talks about how dan finally texted him to ask if he could hear it, and he played it in his bedroom 17 or 18 times before finally sending dan one run of it and then didn’t hear anything back for like 4 hours. he jokes that at that point he basically is assuming he’s been fired. and dan jumps in to say that in reality he’d just been sobbing alone in the dark after listening to it and that you shouldn’t just spring that song on someone when they’re sitting at home alone marathoning downton abbey. noah says that what he thinks makes the scene particularly great on the show, however, is dan’s performance as david reacting to the song. dan then talks about the moment when moira reaches out to touch david’s arm and how that wasn’t scripted but was such a beautiful and important moment of support from a parent for their queer child. eugene then jokes that the scene would have been even more poignant if johnny had been included in it, and they argue over why he couldn’t have been there (he was back at the motel with stevie. eugene: “he could have slipped out for ten minutes.”)

dan asks everyone about their most memorable day on set. emily (along with contributions from noah and annie) talks in both shows about filming the cabaret scenes and how it was so great because it was the last day of shooting for s5 and they were in an actual theater with a whole audience to watch them and so it felt like a real, actual theater performance. they were rehearsing it up until the last possible minute, and they only got three takes at it.

in both shows, they talk about the junebugs from the filming of “surprise party” and dan a) not initially knowing what a junebug actually was and b) having a fear of flying bugs. (per dan, “so does nicole kidman. sue us both.”) they talk about all the takes that were ruined because there were so many flying around and how eventually one flew down dan’s shirt and he freaked out, which leads to eugene doing a reenactment of dan freaking out, complete with “fuck this fucking shit!” (the actual version of which you can of course watch in the s1 bloopers) eugene says he wanted to get t-shirts made that said fuck this fucking shit.

in the first show, eugene brings up the golf scene with johnny and roland and talks about the director yelling at them because they couldn’t stop laughing, take after take (which you can watch in the s3 bloopers). he jokes about how it ultimately didn’t even matter because “it’s my show.”

in the second show, catherine brings up the scene of moira and david trying to sell the allez vous products to everyone and how she couldn’t stop laughing because dan looked “insane” with all his tanner and his [intentionally] bad acting (again, s1 bloopers are your friend).

after all that, they play the multi-season blooper reel (which is great because i do always enjoy watching dan say “i never said i was bright, guys, just really fucking pretty” lmao). during both shows, annie and emily sit on the floor to watch it, which is super cute.

then there’s the audience vs cast trivia game. annie picks five audience members to come on stage and compete against the cast. i don’t remember all the questions dan asked, but between the two shows there was at least what’s alexis’s middle name? what does alexis call the mennonites who they get the peanut butter things from on the way to heather’s farm? what was the gift that patrick gave david on their first date? who was the person moira decided to perform a show about for asbestos fest (and a bonus point for the actual name of the show)? what does twyla put in glasses of champagne? what was moira’s character’s name on sunrise bay? and my personal favorite since i got the acknowledgement from dan for knowing the answer, what was the name of alexis and david’s nanny when they were kids? emily hands out t-shirts to the five audience members who played, and the prize for the audience “winning” is of course noah playing “simply the best” and he jokes beforehand that he’s been working on an acoustic arrangement of “a little bit alexis,” which noah, please, actually do the thing. (here’s a tiny video of him performing.)

the show ends with just a few quick words of thanks from dan. in the first show, he mentions that they’re filming the “sixth and final season,” which uhhhhhhhh does not get the warmest of reactions, which is probably why he doesn’t really mention it in the second show.

aside from the discussion of cabaret, there was very little discussion of s5. i think they’re basically still running the script from the shows they were doing at the start of the season, so i guess that makes sense, but it would have been nice to see a little more talk about it. in one of the shows, dan does briefly bring up annie having done both the song and the choreography for “a little bit alexis” herself, and he says they have more footage of her dancing and that maybe they might release some of it as a treat. and then he kind of realizes what he said and goes, “well i guess now that i said it we actually are gonna have to do it...” so maybe we have that to look forward to?

also since there was no discussion of the engagement in the first show, i submitted a few questions for the second show to try to get them to talk about it (some questions more direct than others), and dan did somehow manage to pick one of mine to read, which was asking noah what it was like having dan carry him up a mountain repeatedly. (i know we’ve heard him talk about it already in some of the bts videos, but like i said, some questions were more direct than others, and that was my indirect way of being like, binch let’s talk about what happened on that mountain lolol.) i actually missed the first several seconds of noah’s response because i was too busy dying about dan reading my question (if someone else who was there wants to fill me in, please do, lmao), but i think he made a joke about dan actually carrying him allllll the way up the mountain, and then more seriously he did specifically say that it was impressive for dan to do it take after take because “i’m not a light man.” he also talked about how they got up there and started filming them looking out at the scenery, and that turkey vulture just swooped so nicely right into the shot and circled back out again and how auspicious that seemed. (there you go, @jcams88, confirmation just for you, straight from noah’s mouth, that that they did not edit in the turkey vulture flying around back there.) unfortunately there was no further discussion of the proposal from there, but hey it’s at least a bit more s5 talk than we would have had if i hadn’t asked lol. all the thanks to dan for picking my question and at least giving us this much.

one other random thing that happens throughout the show and made me laugh a lot is that when annie or noah talks about something dan has said to them, they say it in their best impersonation of dan’s voice, and after they’re done, dan’s immediate response is, “okay, first of all, i don’t sound like that,” in the exact same tone of voice they were impersonating. as a running gag, it was solidly funny every single time. i love them all SO much.