#SHE WAS READY TO BURN TO DEATH TO SAVE VAN HELLO?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neo-culture-mafia · 5 years

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NCT Dream Reaction to Someone Disrespecting Their S/O

Hello my lil’ beans,

Haechan’s is under the NCT 127 and 2018 post. I posted that a while ago, and thank you to the amazing reader who reminded me I still needed to write this one. Thank you, again. You know who you are :)

Also...I got carried away with some of these...and you can tell which ones.

Love, ~J

HUANG RENJUN [2k words]

You were both in the getting ready phase for a mission. You were both in an escape room that Chenle had custom designed to simulate the mission room where you and your boyfriend would lead a group of students through their first mission. Taeyong entrusted you and Renjun and to this effectively: complete the mission, but also make this a learning experience for the students.

Everyone made it out of the simulation fine before the ‘bomb’ detonated. Now, you all got ready for the real thing--

127 and the rest of the Junior Forces Units were sitting in a van about 3 blocks away, ready to aid in back-up if needed. You and Renjun both lead the individual groups into the compound through two separate entrances. Your groups both met in the room where you needed to destroy the files and get files for Taeyong. Once Renjun closed the door, the alarm went off as expected and prepared for. The door locked and the windows were shut with metal sheets; as planned for. You tapped into Chenle. “Chenle, where are the files supposed to be?” You asked as Renjun guided the students to where to stand and protect his and your weak points. All students were hesitant but obeyed their head leader for the mission.

“They should be in the north-west corner, 5th filing cabinet from the left, 3rd row up, labeled under ‘November, Charlie, Mike’ -- American Military Coding.” Chenle read off and you ran to the cabinet. Renjun was right behind you. You broke the cabinet handle and ripped open the drawer.

You searched in the dark and found the correct one. Renjun lit the lighter and burned the folder. You let it drop to the floor and was about to close the cabinet. “Wait...these are all labeled ‘November, Charlie, Mike’.” You said taking a folder out. You flipped through it. These are the papers you needed and came for. “Put that out, it’s a trap. These are the papers we need.” You said grabbing the files as Renjun stepped on the flaming paper with his combat boot. “Mission Compromised.” You said to Mark’s earpiece. “Backup request?” He questioned. “Not necessary.” You mic’d.

The banging on the door made the students scream, even the men who wanted to be a part of the fixed units and bragged about their fearlessness. “We have to leave the files.” You and Renjun both mic’d into the units. “Backup Request. Raw’s are cracking.” (Raw - inexperienced person/people. Cracking - breaking composure/freaking out.) “Got it. Move raws to the inside corner. Stay on post till all clear.” Mark voiced over the com and you buzzed over. “Raws. North-west corner. Now.” You called and you began moving the students over to a more protected position.

You and Renjun posted near the door. It was locked from the outside, so you didn’t know why the other men weren’t walking in. Yet, the other’s weren’t trying to get in, they were trying to keep you in. The quietness brought fear and stillness within the room. You all heard the ticking from the air vents but were never prepared for what would happen next.

The sweet smell of what seemed was lilacs were carried in through the vents. Then turning into a garlicky, sweet, and spicy mix. You and Renjun realized what was happening. The other’s were gassing you all without an escape. Mustard gas: an evaporated mixture that doesn’t kill you quickly, but you wish it did. It is lethal if you don’t escape quick enough though; blisters form along exposed skin, and blisters form in the lungs and throat if breathed in too much.

“Code Red: FM. Code Black: Unseen. Code Brown: Colonel M. Code Grey: Black-out. Code Green Major: Obstructed from external.” You calmly mic’d to Chenle and Mark at same-time. Chenle answered back first. “Class of Red and Brown?” He asked. “High.” You said as you covered your stinging eyes. “Stand by.” He calmly received. “Everyone! Put on your bandana across your mouth. close your eyes and sit still.” Renjun yelled once he saw the kids start itching. Your hands and neck start stinging from the harsh fumes.

It was still silent behind the locked and probably barricaded door. You saw some of the students start to cry out of probable fear. “I don’t wanna die.” One of the younger boys said. “You’re not gonna die.” You reassured. “Back in. Taeyong and 127 are entering South wing. Junior Forces outside Nort-east wall. Prepare for detination in next 5 minutes.” Chenle answered. “Copy.” You calmly replied. “Mouthguard going on both heads.” Renjun mic’d, after seeing you clearing your throat and coughing. Renjun grabbed his bandana and tore it down the middle. He went behind you and tied one around your mouth and the other around his. One of the students grew restless. “Can you guys do something?! We’re basically sitting ducks!” he said moving around all too much. “Don’t move too much. The gas will eat your skin faster.” You blinked, your eyes beginning to become irritated.

Everyone except him became as stiff as a board. “Don’t tell me what to do.” He said pushing past the others so he came face to face with you. You stood there, not wanting to fight right now. “In position. Now.” Renjun coldly said, not looking at the boy. Your skin was itchy and on fire. “Now.” Renjun finally snapped his head toward the boy. Blisters were already forming on the younger boy’s face -- not listening to orders or not to move.

“No. She got us in this mess and she’s not getting us out. She’s being selfish.” The boy grabbed your shoulder, pushing you a little bit till your shoulder hit the concrete wall. “Don’t touch her.” Renjun said, not moving from his position and standing as stiff as a plank of wood. “Or what?” The boy asked, his skin popping a new blister by the second. “You won’t want to have survived this. I can promise you.” The wall next to you blew a hole the size of a single body. And of course, the same boy pushed others to get out first. You and Renjun calmly walked to the hole. Renjun walks out to where Mark, Jaemin, and Jeno stood with disinfectant fluid, clothed in thick work jackets and gas masks.

You held your finger up, motioning it in a circle, signaling you would be doing a walk-through to make sure no man was left behind. Jaemin saw and nodded. You slowly walked around as your skin was burning for fresh air and a release from the stinging. You walked with your head in one position and your body in a relaxed stance, careful not to move too quickly. Your body kicked a lump. You backed up and looked to see a body. It was of a girl in her first year. She came today to prove she was worth it...and you were going to make sure she lived to tell her story of being passed out in a mustard gas-filled room and surviving.

You quickly reacted, even though your brain told you not to do that, your heart said otherwise. You ripped your bandana off, immediately coughing up a red substance. Your head became dizzy as you tied it around the younger girls mouth, and scooped her into your arms. You walked through the rest making sure no one else was left behind. You ran quickly to the entrance where Jeno was all ready to take her from your arms. You passed her off and literally jumped onto the ground outside of the building. Your skin was in an automatic relief but still burned.

Renjun came over, picking you up by your arms, and guiding you over to the vans where some of the other students were sitting. Jaemin and Mark came over as Renjun took your shirt and ripped it off your body. Your skin needed to breathe and not be encased in the mustard dust filled cloth of a shirt. You were in your sports bra and the next thing to go was your pants and you were left in spandex shorts. Renjun had knotted your hair into a bun on the top of your head. He helped you stand and the two boys sprayed you with the disinfecting cold fluid. Then Jeno came over with the high wind and blew the dust from your hair and face. “Are you okay?” Renjun asked and you nodded. You coughed and your body recoiled onto the ground. You threw up at your own feet. Blood mixed with nasty remnants of yesterday littered the ground.

“She’s infected. We need to get Kun from China.” Renjun yelled to Chenle who was still in the van, directing the last of 127 and Jisung Unit through the foreign compound. “Already on the phone.” Chenle responded. “Where is the girl?” You asked Jeno, still too tired to get up, merely looking at him through hooded eyes. “She’s being taken care of. She’ll be okay.” Jeno said coming over and wiping your mouth and face of the blood you had just spilled.

“Her! It’s all her fault! She’s the traitor!” Someone yelled. You looked up, ready to see something worth seeing. Yet, you see the same snobby boy dragging Taeyong through the crowd of students. “She knew we would be in there, and she did nothing when the gas came in!” He said and everyone looked to you on the ground.

Taeyong just cocked an eyebrow at you and the rest of the small group caring for your weak figure. “She's not a traitor. She was the first one who realized something was wrong and called it in.” A student piped up from the back. “She put us in a safe position and guided us on what to do.” Another one said. “But you didn’t listen and wen and pushed her.” Another boy said and everyone was now staring at the snob who tried to taint your name. “I recall that once the hole was blown, you went and escaped first. You pushed others back just so you could save your own ass.” Renjun said walking closer to the stupid kid. “When everyone else was out, she went back in to save one of your friends. And you have the nerve to sit here and call her selfish?” Renjun asked.

Taeyong sent death glares towards this student, as did everyone else. “...and what did I say when you put your hands on her?” Renjun questioned. “I don’t care. You won’t do shit. Taeyong is standing right here.” The student sassed. Tae looked to Renjun who’s face was practically the color of a tomato. “Chenle, let me help you in the van.” Tae said and ran to the other side of the space and into the van.

Once the door closed, the boy tried backing up and explaining himself as your boyfriend took steps towards him. Yet, the younger student hit a wall made by Jaemin’s and Jeno’s bodies. Mark held your arms comfortingly. “Here, let’s go back to base. You’re too injured to stay.” He said picking you up by the arms. He picked you up bridal style and started walking you to one of the vans to take you back to base. Yet, even through the tears of the gas, you saw Renjun lay a hard blow to the student’s face, getting on the ground and laying a bitch slap against the already stinging face of the student. He grabbed the hair of the boy, craning his neck to make him look at the cold eyes of anger he possessed.

“You mess with her, you mess with me. You call yourself a man? You don’t even have a general respect for no one except yourself. You are so lucky I don’t end your sorry ass right here. There are too many witnesses...see you later, asshole.” And with that, Renjun spat on the student and left to Mark and you.

(“Code Red: FM (Code Red - Fire, Flames, Fumes [FM]). Code Black: Unseen (Bomb). Code Brown: Colonel M. (Internal or External incident involving hazardous matericals[Colenol M - Mustard Gas]) Code Grey: Black-out (Loss of Utilities). Code Green Major: Obstructed from external (Facility Evacuation - Can’t escape because something is blocking escape from the outside).” Here are the codes for the scene where y/n was reading off codes.

LEE JENO [1k]

You didn’t like when he got violent. He was your big cuddly bear of a boyfriend, and you didn’t want anything to make you think otherwise. But, sometimes he just couldn’t help himself. He needed to get his anger out, but it was always away from your sight. Yet, once stepped too far...no one could stop his rage.

You were both sitting at a very important dinner. It was with Neo Culture and one of the other mafias in the surrounding area. Taeyong was trying to expand inventory (even though it was not needed). Yet, once you all showed up to the event, you all wanted to leave. This group was nothing but a joke. Running around with semi-automatics, women would be bossing around some of the Neo Culture men as if they were servants, some of the men on the opposing side would speak rudely to the women of Neo Culture...it was a mess.

Yet, once someone messed with you, the whole hierarchy within Neo Culture became pissed and protective.

You were dancing with Jeno in the dance floor. Taeyong had sent you and Jeno to dance while sending some of the other junior forces to dance with the ladies of the other group. Taeyong was trying to give the feeling of elegance and good manners. The music played as you and Jeno laughed and talked about random stuff while spinning around in circles.

Yet you abruptly stopped once feeling someone’s hand grope your rear-end. You could tell it wasn’t Jeno because since when did he have 3 hands...and why was the 3rd hand so scrawny, cold, small, and not nice to the touch? You turned around and was met with 2 men who were giving each other high-fives. “Damn, that thing jiggles.” He said and you scoffed. Jeno grabbed you and put you behind him. “Wanna say that again?” Jeno asked grabbing one of them by the collar. “No. Jeno, stop.” You said grabbing his wrist, but he wouldn’t budge as the 2 of them began yelling at each other and getting everybody’s attention.

“Jeno. Stop.” Jaemin and Renjun ran over. “Not the time or place for this.” Donghyuck said moving you away from the situation and possible violent altercation. “What happened?” Hyuck asked, leaning in so you can speak in his ear. “One of them grabbed my ass and Jeno flipped out.” You said and he nodded, an uneasy and mean face set in instantly. “They touched you?” He asked and you nodded.

He sighed and walked back over to help the other boys drag Jeno away.

_______________

You all sat, eating dinner in the silence of a ballroom filled by 1000+ people, and no one dared to speak. Jeno had cooled down and almost became 100% okay with the situation. Something smelled fishy though.

All of a sudden, the man who touched earlier was now foaming at the mouth and shaking uncontrollably on the floor. “Underboss down!” Someone yelled and people around him along with his boss swarmed around him to help. When everyone was out of earshot, you turned towards Jeno with a scowl. He had a devious smirk on his lips as he sipped his champagne. You swatted his upper arm as the other Junior Forces and Taeyong stifled a laugh.

“Seriously? All of you?” You asked and they all hid their smiles and giggled with the bubbly alcohol. “Seizure, he’s having a seizure!” Someone called. You saw Jaemin give Jeno a fist bump under the table. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Unbelievable.” You said getting up and walking off the high-rise of tables. “Especially you. You should be telling them no. Not encouraging it.” You looked to Taeyong before walking off.

You walked outside the venue to get a breath of fresh air. You were eventually met with a breathless Jeno who ran after you. “For a woman in heels, you sure cover a lot of distance in a short time.” He said and you rolled your eyes. “Listen, I’m sorry. But, I wasn’t just gonna let the dude get away with it.” He said tracing his fingers from your shoulder to your elbow.

You ignored him, looking at the shops around the venue. “Please. Forgive me?” He asked and you ignored him more. His lips met your bare shoulder as he pressed kisses along the length of your shoulder. Goosebumps were present but you didn’t want to give in so easily. “Please?~~” He asked, setting his head down on your shoulder.

You looked at him and he was using his eyes as a trap for you to forgive him. “...you need to work on your temper...” you said looking out into the road again. He groaned and threw his arms around you. “I said I was sorry. He touched you...and you’re mine. No one can touch you like that.” He said kissing your cheek.

You just looked at him. “Try again.” You said and he sighed. “Fine. I got jealous and became too overprotective. I let my temper get out of hand and let it go too far. I am sincerely sorry I put you in that position where you felt uncomfortable.” He said and you actually began to believe him. “Even though I always say it, I will actually try to work on my anger starting from tomorrow.” He said and you smiled. “That’s all I ask. You can get revenge and get angry...just not around me.” You said straightening out his blazer. “You scare me when you get angry.” You fix his hair.

“I’m sorry and I’ll work on it. I don’t want to scare you.” He said kissing your forehead. “I know.” You smiled. “But let’s go. We have to get back in there before the other ones notice we’re gone.” You said and you both walked in hand in hand.

You all ended up having to go through questioning that you all didn’t put something in the man’s drink. Jeno was first to be called out and you knew he was gonna explode with rage in the span of 5 seconds. You grabbed his thigh comfortingly under the table to calm down.

“Even though I would have every right to hurt him because he touched my girlfriend, which is mine and you don’t touch what is mine because I get very touchy and mea-” You shut up his babbling with a kick to his leg. “I mean...no...I did not put anything in the man’s drink.”

NA JAEMIN [2k]

He was a pretty chill guy, usually. He always held you close to him in fear of losing you to someone else. He wasn’t afraid to let you see his anger. He also wasn’t afraid to act out on anger. He deemed consequences were unstable and probably wouldn’t hurt him in any way.

You had come back from a long day of school. You had gotten in a fight and were trying to go to sleep and escape everyone and everything. You just wanted an escape at the moment.

You walked into the quiet apartment, holding your cheek and ribs as you quickly and quietly took off your shoes. You swiftly ran to the bedroom where you were going to shower and change -- taking the longest nap of your life afterward.

Your clothes sat on the counter as you scrubbed your body gently. It was painful but needed. You let the water carry your tears down the drain and into the ocean or wherever the pipes took it to. The door opened and you could feel the cooler air contrast with the hot steam. “Hello, my beautiful princess.” Jaemin cheered as the door closed again.

It was almost like a ritual as one of you showered that the other would come and keep company. It wasn’t weird to you guys...it was comforting and wanted by both. You guys had some of the best conversations while your washed conditioner from your hair. “Hi Jae.” You tried to sing-song.

“You okay?” He asked as he opened a couple cabinets. “Yeah...just had soap in my eye.” You said as you gently washed the cuts along your cheeks and collarbones.

“Be careful princess~~” He whined and you laughed a little. “I will.” You called and he cut the small conversation off. “I’m just gonna shave so if I’m a little quieter, that’s why.” He said while yawni ng. “Okay just be careful. Don’t cut up your face.” You warned and he chuckled. “Of course, princess.” He agreed.

You hummed a little, rubbing soap into the cuts and noticing the bruises that have been left behind. You bit your lip; wanting the pain to stop for a moment but nothing was working or being answered by a higher being.

“How was school?” He asked and your breath caught in your throat. “It was...fun...I guess.” You questioned. “What’s up with you today?” He asked and you just gave him a small sound to make him continue speaking. “You usually talk my ear off about projects or the latest gossip.” He said and you just sighed. He was going to find out eventually...just do it now and he’ll be pissed but will calm down; too tired to do anything in the moment.

“Y/n...what’s up?” He asked and you peeked an eye out and saw he was finishing up shaving. “Just when you’re done go sit on the bed. We need to talk.” You said and he nodded. He finished a little faster than usual.

He exited the room but not before grabbing you a towel and handing it to you gently.

You got dressed slowly and prayed the bruises would magically zap away in the next 30 seconds...but as soon as you looked into the mirror before leaving -- they looked worse than before the shower. Your cuts were more prominent and you knew that he was going to flip his lid.

You went to the door and opened it a little. “Jaemin.” You called and you saw him sit attentively. “Yes?” He asked and put on a smile. “You have to promise.” You called and he chuckled. “Anything.” He called and shrugged. “Promise on everything and no matter what...you will not get mad.” You shuttered and he nodded, his award-winning smile only faltering a little.

“Of course...” He said. “Are you okay, princess?” He asked and you took a breath before opening the door slowly.

You stood in the doorway, the steam wrapping and hugging your skin perfectly. You watched as his face dropped and the look of fatigue and want of sleep disappear from his face. Anger was what it was replaced with.

“Who?” He asked standing up. You shuttered and backed up a little. “No. You promised you wouldn’t get mad.” You said and he became angrier. “Tell. Me. Who. Did. It.” He said and you shook your head no.

He came closer and grabbed you harshly. You winced at the suddenness and he realized how tight he was actually gripping. He let you go and grabbed your face gently.

“Baby...who did this to you?” He asked and the tears started building up faster. You shook your head, grabbing his wrists gently. “No. You’re gonna get angry.” You said and you saw his eyes turn black.

“Who.” Was all he asked. “It was my fault-” You cried a little. “Who.” “No. I’m okay. It doesn’t even hurt.” You shook your head, trying to calm him down.

“Baby. It’s okay. I’m not mad.” He shook his head, soothingly rubbing the tears from your cheeks. He grabbed your face comfortingly, laying kisses all over. “Can you just please tell me how it happened?” He asked as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I said something about this couple that had been- they had been bothering me and my friends.” You said, hiccuping between your sentences. “And...and the dude got super pissed.” You shook your head, trying to play it off like it was nothing.

“My friends tried running off to get help after he pushed Nayoung. He pushed her again and I stood in the middle. Then-” You hiccuped once again. “Then he slapped me and his friends showed up.” You said and Jaemin was still comforting you but inside was working a highly devised plan on how to make this guy’s murder look like an accident. He broke the hug to look at you again.

“Wait...is it the dude on the soccer team?” He asked and you stupidly nodded. “Wait! No it’s not...Jaemin!” you started crying more and Jaemin just chuckled at your worriedness. “Baby. Stop crying, it’s okay.” He said and held you again as you cried. “Please don’t do anything.” You pleaded. “Awe baby.” He cooed as he held you...you knew it was too late.

~~~~~~~

You sat at home eating breakfast 2 days later. Your schoolbag right next to you, and you mindlessly scrolled through your phone. The news was on in the background as some of your friends ate their own breakfast around you.

Thanks to the apartment not being on base, you could always have friends over. Jaemin never wanted to seclude you from having guests to the home. Speaking of the devil, he walked in and removed his shoes. “Hello, ladies.” He waved to them and they gawked at him per usual. “Good morning, princess.” He kissed your cheek. “Hello, Jae. Jeno’s not with you?” You asked and he shook his head. “At tr-” He began but he realized the other girls staring at him. “At a meeting. The boss wants the progress report...you know how he is.” He rolled his eyes and walked over to the fridge. He pulled out the water and poured himself a glass.

“Is that a new tattoo, Jaemin?” One of your friends pointed out. Jaemin cocked an eyebrow and looked down to his arm where your birth flower laid in newer ink. “Oh...yeah.” He chuckled and finished the rest of the water. You got up and put your dish in the sink. “It’s y/n’s birth flower. And then I got her birthday on my ribs.” Jaemin motioned to his ribs. “I wanna see!” they all said at once and you turned to them quickly. “No.” Was all you said and they all whined.

Jaemin laughed and pulled you back so your back was to his chest. His arm was across your collar bones so he held you close. The girls blabbed drama and stuff while you had your little moment. “Don’t get so jealous, princess.” Jaemin chuckled quietly. “I’m not jealous.” You defended. “...they were just being thirsty...” you shrugged and he laughed a little.

“Well I’m going to go shower then go back and teach my class then I’ll come to pick you up from school and we can go-” “We’re late!” Nayoung screamed. You looked toward the clock and you were 10 minutes late.

“Oh no!” You said and ducked out of Jaemin’s embrace. You ran around, throwing your shoes on and getting your hoodie on. Jaemin held your backpack and lunch in his hands. You passed him and grabbed it. “Forgetting something?” he asked and you walked back to peck his cheek.

“Thank you!” You called. “Have a good day, love you princess.” He called.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked into the teaching hall where Jaemin was on break right now. You were fuming and just...hurt.

“SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY SOCCER STAR FOUND BURNED AND DEAD IN DITCH. APPARENT SUICIDE.” Was all you heard all day. Yet you knew it wasn’t a damn suicide. It was Jaemin.

You walked in and directly to the break room. Some of the students gawked at you in your uniform as you angrily stormed past. You hit the teacher break room and literally kicked the door in.

You got everyone’s attention as Jaemin’s eyes ballooned at the sight of angry you. “Told ya.” Jeno said as he took his seat at his own desk. “Nope. I know you helped too!” You pointed to Jeno and he guiltily looked down. “And you. And you. And you.” You pointed to Renjun, Haechan, and Chenle. Jisung was still clueless about everything and you could tell the poor child didn’t want to be mixed in with the troubled ones.

All the guilty ones sighed once they realized they were figured out. You marched towards Jaemin who sat in his desk chair, a devilish smirk plastered on his lips. His glasses pulled down to the tip of his nose.

“Jaemin.” You acted innocent. “Yes, princess?” He played along. You leaned against his desk. “Would you mind having a discussion with me about today’s front page headline?” You chuckled.

“I’m actually kind of busy-” “You wouldn’t mind? Great!” You laughed as you pulled the newspaper from under your arm. He leaned back in his chair and threw his feet up on the desk. Everyone in the office tuned into the spectacle happening before their very eyes.

“Seoul National University Star Goalie Found Mangled and Burnt in Roadside Ditch In Apparent Suicide,” you concluded and he shrugged. “you wouldn’t a clue on what I’m talking about would you?” You asked and he shook his head no while having the same smirk on his face.

“Not a clue.” He sweetly said and you just nodded. “So when I tell you people are giving me shit at school saying I’m the reason for his death...how do you think that makes me feel?” You asked putting the paper on his desk.

He looked guilty. “The girls told me to delete their numbers and not talk to them.” You continued and you saw the weight in his shoulders drop. “The soccer team told me not to show up at school unless I want another beating.” You said and he looked completely gutted.

“So I want to thank you. But not only you but everyone else that helped.” You looked around at the other guilty boys. “And I want to thank you for making school a death wish for me. Because I can’t even go get withdraw papers anymore.” You shrugged, starting to get misty-eyed.

“You should have told him to calm down and not have encouraged him. Because I know your guys’ relationship and I know damn well that you told him it was a good idea.” Jeno looked down at his class’ homework in guilt and shame.

“So once again. Thank you, everyone.” You said getting up and walking out of the door where students were crowded. “Get the fuck back to class.” You bellowed and they all scattered like mice.

ZHONG CHENLE [2.6k]

He didn’t care if they were your parents -- he didn’t like anyone coming close to you without their intentions. You were his precious baby-like girlfriend who always needed his help...in his eyes. You were always spoiled by him and his love...and his overprotectiveness.

So, when you guys went out for a cute little date and had an unexpected visitor on the way out -- he bugged out and lost his composure.

“Lele...over here.” You called and grabbed his hand; dragging him over to the highest ride you could see. “Calm down, y/n.” He laughed and pulled so you were basically going nowhere. He pulled you closer and threw his arm around your shoulders. “I wanna go before the lines get too long.” You said and he understood. You both walked over to the line and stood still. Well, he did...you bounced up and down in anticipation.

“Calm down, bunny.” He said holding his hands on your shoulders to make you stop bouncing. “Okay okay fine.” You started babbling and he listened but his eyes drifted a little. His eyebrows furrowed a little as he suddenly brought you closer and held you there. “Oh...okay?” You said as you accepted the sudden affection. The dude who was once staring at your body now looked away; Chenle’s strong stare proving to be too much for the foreign feeling boy.

“Everything okay?” You asked and you heard him hum. He turned you around and you both began walking in the line again; his arm holding you close to his side.

“Le...calm down.” You said and laid a hand on his torso to get his attention. “Huh?” He asked as if he had missed something. “Angry. You look angry.” You said sadly, not wanting his jealousy to get the best of him today. “Oh...I’m not angry. Don’t worry, baby.” He said changing his face and pinching your cheek lightly.

“NEXT!” ~~~~~~~~~~~ “Ooooo! Cotton candy!” You screeched, seeing the huge balls of fluff being wound and wound like little clouds of hopes and dreams. It sent you over the edge one you saw the assortment of sprinkles being placed on top. “Pink or blue?” Chenle suddenly popped up next to you. “Oh...you don’t have to buy.” You said fishing into your backpack to pull out your wallet.

“Thank you, come again.” The worker said. Your bag was taken from you and replaced with a huge blue cloud of sugar and sparkly sprinkles. Chenle started walking away with your bag now in his hands. “Chenle!” You said as you caught up to him.

“Oh...hello...glad you could join me.” As he quickly booped your nose. “Why did you pay? I could’ve paid.” You whined as you ate a small bite of the sweet treat. “Because. I took you out on a date. You take me out -- you can pay.” He declared while putting his arm around your waist, where it usually stayed while walking.

“Fine. Deal.” You nodded, stuffing more candy in your mouth. “Oh my, you’re so adorable.” He kissed your cheek and took some candy from the paper cone. He put the candy in his mouth and then stopped. You also stopped to see what he was staring at. “Y/N?!” A boy called from the other side of the small quad.

“Minhyuk?!” You called, walking over to the boy with arms wide open. You both hugged and the anger in Chenle’s body rose to his ears. He deemed the boy a non-threat, but still, all he could see was red.

He walked over to you both, arms crossed and jaw clenched. His face was ever so slightly positioned downwards so his eyes seemed more frightening to the foreign feeling boy.

“Chenle this is Minhyuk. An old childhood friend.” You introduced, subconsciously holding onto Minhyuk’s arm. Minhyuk’s hand came out to Chenle. Chenle looked at it as if it was a contaminated specimen.

He hesitantly shook your friend’s hand and hated every second of it. Chenle looked at your hand still stuck to your friend’s arm. You quickly caught on and took your hand off. You returned to the side of your boyfriend and kept a hand in his back pocket. “Nice to meet you, Chenle.” Minhyuk smiled but Chenle only put on a fake smile as he gripped the other boy’s hand tightly.

You only noticed how much the pain was forcing its way through a smile when you saw the veins in Chenle’s arm pop out and run under the band of his watch. “Nice to meet you too...I guess.” Chenle murmured the last part.

“Let. Go.” You said quietly and Chenle releases the boy’s hand obediently. Minhyuk stuffed both of his hands in his sweater pocket as you could see him rubbing his hand in pain.

“Well...I have to get back to my friends. But, I’ll see you around yeah?” He smiled at you, and only you. You nodded, totally oblivious to what was about to happen next. “Of course! We should make plans sometime.” You smiled but Chenle grasped your hand. “Of course, y/n.” Minhyuk smiled at you. He began walking away as you turned towards your temperamental boyfriend.

“Lele...you should be nice more,” you said as you picked at the sugary treat once more, “you scare me when you get like that.” You said munching down. Yet, you didn’t see how Minhyuk looked back and gave an evil glare to Chenle.

They already knew eachother...and you both had very limited time to get out of this park before there would be a shoot out.

“I’m sorry. My stomach hurts so I’m a little moody.” Chenle gripped your hand and started to drag you along. “Lele. Stop pulling.” You whined, trying to stop him.

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up, so I wanna go home.” He said stopping and looking at the overhead signs pointing towards the closest exit. “Then hurl in the bathroom and we can just take it easy for the rest of the day.” You tried compromising, but he was not having it at all.

“No, I feel more comfortable going home.” He pulled you down a crowded section. “Uuughghg I told you not to eat lunch then go on the ‘Stomach Shaker’!” You groaned, feeling ‘right’ at the moment.

“I’m sorry, babe. You did tell me.” He confessed, but he felt perfectly fine -- guilty, about ending the day so early -- but other than that, he was fine.

“Well, at least we got to have some alone time.” You said finally walking fast enough so you were beside him. You jumped a little and kissed his cheek. His cheeks turned rosy as he slowed down a little bit and came to the exit finally.

He put you in front of him a little, making sure he could see you and see anything coming. You walked, taking bouncy steps and Chenle had fun watching you. You would make games as you walked, only walking on the parking lines on the ground. “Wait. My shoelace.” You said, handing him your cotton candy and crouching down.

You took your time tying your shoe and holding a small conversation with him in the meantime. Chenle looked over and around you. He spotted someone, in a parked and run-down car watching both of you. “Babe. You done?” He asked and you made a sound of approval, standing up.

As soon as he felt your presence and your hand on his arm, he saw the man put a walky-talky to his mouth. “Babe, run.” He said shoving the keys in your hands.

You didn’t question and ran as fast as you could to his car. You leaped past some backing-out cars and past some people walking back to their own car.

“She’s running.” You heard what you thought was a normal mom say. You looked back and saw her talking into her watch.

You then stopped once you saw there were men who were already hiding around the car.

You tried running back towards Chenle, but arms grasped onto your body. “Get off!” You yelled, trying to remember everything you learned in the defense classes you were forced to take. You looked back at the attacker for it to be Minhyuk. “Minhyuk?” You breathed in disappointment.

He scooped you up under your arms and started running towards a van. You were left in a no-choice situation: You had to survive.

You brought your head forward and back quickly. Ringing in your head bounced against your skull as he dropped you. “Y/N!” You heard Chenle yell as he ran from where you tied your shoe. His gun out and ready to be used. “Get up!” He yelled but it was all gibberish to you. Your head was hazy and still ringing.

You tried to decipher the words he yelled but only came up with unreasonable sentences.

Some normal civilians yelled and ran away from the not so normal situation. You felt another set of person’s hands drag you a little bit; the rough gravel tearing up some skin in the process.

Pop

You squeezed your eyes shut and remembered what Chenle told you about being caught in the middle of a shoot-out

You both sat at dinner in the living room. Jisung was out with his friends and you both had the night alone. You both ordered food and sat on different sides of the coffee table, food laid across space between you.

“So what about you having questions?” Chenle asked as he took a bite of food.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just wanna know what you do more.” You confessed and he nodded, mouth full of food.

“Have you ever been shot?” You abruptly asked and he choked on his noodles. You grabbed a drink and handed it to him. He waved it off as it was okay.

“Sorry. I crossed the line, didn’t I?” You asked and he laughed a little once he chewed and consumed his food successfully. “No, it’s totally fine.” He waved it off again. “Honestly, no...but I’ve been involved in shoot-outs.” He said as if it was no big deal.

“Oooo, tell me what happened.” You shifted and laid your head in your hand. “Can’t, honey. Classified still.” He said as he took another bite as you were let down.

You nodded as you understood.

“Can I join your work?”...and he choked again. He helped himself this time and looked at you. “That’s cute...but no.” He said coldly.

“My job as a boyfriend is to protect you, not put you even closer to danger.” He sighed, taking a bite of some sweet and spicy chicken. “Well...then give me some advice...something you learned from experience.” You asked and he thought for a moment.

“...In a shoot out...If you’re defenseless...don’t go towards anyone. Not the other guys, or your guys...” He said and you tilted your head. “...go towards a small place and cram yourself under or against it and have your back towards the action...” He continued. “Because in the heat of it all, you see red and your closest brother won’t recognize you even if you have your name tattooed on your forehead...wait it out, and wait for them to find you...”

You snapped your eyes open and rolled towards the parked car to your left. Shots popped through the air and you could see Chenle’s shoes under the car. He was crouched down and reloading.

You crammed yourself so far under that car, and you laid there in the tiniest ball you could form. You heard bodies hit the ground and bullets hit surrounding cars. You counted the bullets once they hit the glass above you. You were caught in the direct middle of it, and you realized it once you saw Chenle’s feet and Minhyuk’s feet move closer to the car you were under.

You prayed to anyone of anything that you would fall asleep to one of Chenle’s goodnight texts and not fall asleep forever in the back of an ambulance.

“Where is she anyway?” Minhyuk asked and your eyes widened. “Doesn’t matter.” Chenle said from his side of the car. “Yes it does. I’ve had a crush on her since we were young.” He confessed and you actually cringed.

Not lying to yourself, he was cute and sweet...and you loved him like a brother...but he wasn’t your type -- he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed at some points.

“I’ve imagined everything I would say to her.” Minhyuk fantasized, not even 2 feet away from you; crouched down on his respective side of the car. The van was long gone by now and it was just the 2 boys.

“I would shut my mouth if I was you right now, honestly.” Chenle said and you could tell he was getting angrier by each word Minhyuk spoke.

“How much she means to me...how much I want to love her endlessly...”

“You are talking about the wrong girl, buddy. She’s happiest with me...not you.” Chenle confirmed all the words you told him before; the words you would say during dates, during special occasions, and secretive nights of slipping away from the base.

“You don’t love her right. I can tell. You’re too controlling, she doesn’t like tha-”

“She’s scared of being in control. She’s scared of power.” Chenle said nonchalantly as he wiped the side of his gun with his shirt.

“I bet she likes all the power.” Minhyuk tried correcting the person who knew you best. You still shook under the car and could see very little under the car.

“She really doesn’t.” Chenle fought back and forth; something he didn’t like doing besides with friends.

“You talk about her like you really know her--but you don’t. I do. And how dare you act so cool with her.” Chenle finally blabbed his emotions. “And you have the nerve to stab her in the back like this? You seriously picked her up to get her into a van when you were her supposed friend?!” Chenle was getting heated at this moment.

“She would’ve been fine, dude. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Minhyuk said sarcastically. “No. Because you hurt her. She probably trusted you and you totally fucked it up.” Chenle said and it was silent for a moment.

“She’s probably really good at a lot of things,” Minhyuk said in a dreamy voice. “Yes, and you’ll never get to experience any of it, you sick freak.” Then there was a weight on the car.

You were smushed for a quick second before a ringing shot was heard and you saw Minhyuk’s gun hit the ground. His body hit the ground soon after and the pool of red liquid began forming. Chenle’s feet padded back over to his first side of the car.

He got on the ground and was laying down so he could see you.

“Are you okay?” He tried giving a warm smile.

You shook your head ‘no’ and he pouted for a moment before a car screeched to a halt right in front of your hideout.

“The guys are here.” He said softly, putting his hand out gently to grab yours. You held his hand because you truly did trust him. “Just when you get up, I’m gonna close your eyes and help you to the car.” He said and you nodded.

You shimmied yourself out and stood up and before standing fully, his hands were already over your eyes. You felt another pair of hands hold yours and guide you. Yet, when first touched, you retracted back into Chenle.

“It’s just Jeno.” Lele reassured you and you felt the hands again.

In a matter of no time, you were in the back of the van with Jaemin driving, Jeno in the shooter seat, Jisung in the back, tracking and on the phone with Taeyong and Mark.

Chenle held you close, your back to his chest as you sat between his legs. Your head still hurt from the first hit but you were going to be okay.

“It’s going to be okay.” Chenle reassured once again, holding you close and resting his head on your shoulder.

“You’re gonna be okay.” He said kissing your cheek lovingly.

PARK JISUNG [2.9k]

No one ever thought you two were going to last. It was always seen as ‘puppy love’, and soon to fall apart. Yet, you both agreed that you guys didn’t want anyone but each other. You both were young, not even out of school yet -- but both didn’t want to go through the societal routine of trying to find a partner when you were both more than happy off with one another.

You guys had your childish spit-spats...every couple did. But, once someone messed with you the wrong way; he would drop everything and make sure that person never crossed the line again. It once happened with Chenle, and now Chenle never forgets to greet you with a smile and a warm welcome.

Jisung was always babied by his members, so having a s/o, he got the chance to baby someone else. That includes: making sure you were always comfortable, safe, fed, nurtured, and welcomed.

You were both in tier 1 at the on the base academy and were the tops of your classes respectively. Jisung had been with the original members first so he always had this high level of respect given to him. You, on the other hand, always had to prove yourself. You didn’t mind, but it was annoying at some points.

You were walking with some younger tier trainees on the way to the cafeteria. You were giving some pointers on how to pass some of Jeno’s tests. He was an amazing friend...but a ruthless teacher. “But like...he drones on forever.” One of the girls said. You laughed light-heartedly at her statement. “He does that so you don’t miss anything.” You defended his unfun class lectures. “Working with chemicals is hard. A truth serum could turn into a deadly poison, easily. He just wants all of you working with chemicals SAFELY.” You said and they nodded, finally understanding.

“And if you really don’t want to listen to him that day, bring up cats...he can’t resist talking about his own.” You said and they laughed. Yet, a huge smack was heard throughout the courtyard. A wet substance was leaking through the back of your training shirt. It was a lukewarm liquid that still made you shiver as it slid down the crevice of your back.

You turned around slowly and saw the culprit: Oh Minki...number 2 in your class. He laughed with his small group of friends. The missing head of the mop laid at your feet, while the pool of brown, smelly, and dirty water sat at their own.

No one dared to make a sound at the huge ordeal. You would’ve walked off and let it go if he hadn’t started talking. “Awe. Is crybaby gonna cry?” He asked, moving his hands and wiping imaginary tears. “Gonna go get your big bad boyfriend?” He asked and you shook your head ‘no’. He was on a mission today, and you weren’t gonna call him because some asshole threw a wet, stinky, dirty mop head at you.

“I don’t find a reason to call on anyone when I could easily take you on myself.” You spoke and everyone ‘ooo’d’. “You can’t, though.” He said and you both began walking heavily towards each other.

“No! Stop!” The younger students said, not wanting two people who could easily kill each other going head to head. You both met in the middle and he laid a fist. You turned and grabbed his arm with your hand and twisted it up so he fell on his back.

He kicked your knee out from under you and you fell on your hip. You both wrestled for a moment on the ground until he pinned you down for a quick moment. “Get off of her!” Some other students yelled; not allowed to break it up without a mentor around. He pinned your arms next to your head and you started kneeing his lower back. “Stop! Get off!” More kids yelled, not wanting this to go any further. “Help me.” He called to his friends once he realized you were going to damage his back if you kept kicking.

“Move!” His friend yelled, getting closer. Minki rolled off of you and you couldn’t do anything.

You had no time to move out of the way, as the only thing that protected you was your arms in front of your face.

The whole mop bucket was emptied onto you. You coughed as some chemically tasting water got into your nose and mouth. The water seemed never-ending as the heavy bucket was then dumped onto your stomach. Little particles of what looked like toilet paper floated near you and you wanted to throw up. You needed to. You swallowed chemical water.

“Hey! You!” Someone bellowed at the top of the quad. A small bridge linking some of the academic buildings together was used as look-out over the quad for security purposes.

Taeyong stood there along with the whole of Neo Culture; still dressed in mission uniforms.

Taeyong looked right into Minki’s soul with the anger of a million devil’s. Jisung’s eyes were unreadable as you met his eyes next.

You were sitting up, weight on your elbows as you were still dripping wet and smelly. “Shit. Run.” Minki said and all of his friends took off. Taeyong turned towards Jaemin, Jeno, and Mark who then ran off the bridge and probably towards the student dorms.

You were stood up by some of the male students who wanted to help from the beginning, but couldn’t. They were some of Jisung’s friends you have come to meet, but not remember their names. “Miss. y/l/n. You have to purge. You have chemicals in your system.” One of them said and you hazily nodded. They dragged you over to the grassy section.

“Go into the cafeteria!” Taeyong shouted and all the other students hurried along. “

Jisung was quietly and annoyingly begging to be released from the position so he could go help you. “Please. Please. Please.” He kept saying discreetly from next to Taeyong. “You wouldn’t let me get the dude-” “Yeah because you would’ve killed him.” Taeyong fought back and Jisung sighed heavily. “Wait till everyone goes into the cafeteria, then go help her,” Taeyong said and Jisung just wanted everyone to poof...in the cafeteria already.

They were supporting your upper body. Your lower half laid on the grass, and they held up your upper body under the arms, leaving your head facing straight down to the blades of grass. You started getting light-headed, eyes feeling like were going to pop out, and chest feeling heavy.

“Hyun-Ah! Get some water and towels!” One of the boys yelled from above you. You were trying to support your body but their arms kept you up. “Y/n. We need to take your shirt off, is that alright?” One of them politely asked and you nodded. You heard snipping and the warm air hits your back. Medical student.

“She’s experiencing chlorine contact irritant dermatitis.” The boy whispered, taking out a pad of paper and a pen. “Chlorines compounds wouldn’t make a rash that severe.” Chemicals student.

“On the contrary. Mixed with other cleaner chemicals, chlorine mutates.” The first guy said again. “Jisung is gonna be pissed.” Another boy said and you could hear him chuckle.

“Not the time, dude.” The Chemicals student said and footsteps were heard coming closer. “Here are your towels and water. What are you doing?! Tie her hair up!” A girl said coming closer and taking your hair. She tied it in a knot with an elastic and left again.

You heard constant and fast coming steps. “You need to purge now or you’re going to have complications.” The medical student said and you only groaned lightly. “Do you need help?-” He asked and you nodded.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.” Jisung said as he slid on the grass in front of you. “She needs help purging. Her pulse keeps fluctuating.” The Medical student said and your nose began dripping blood onto the grass. All this? From swallowing a couple mouthfuls of water? “Okay, come on, y/n. It’s okay.” Jisung said grabbing your face gently.

His panic was hidden with smoothness and calmness. Yet, his heart rate was reaching a new high and he was already getting a headache from everything happening at once.

“Alright. She needs to purge now or she’s gonna need her stomach pumped.” The Chemical student said. Everything was still hazy as your throat and neck were on fire, figuratively of course.

Jisung’s hand came under your chin, lifting your head up a little. He stuck his thumb in your mouth to pry it open. He took his fingers and shoved them as far as they could reach. You gagged and released all the foul-smelling chemicals that were entrapped in your stomach. Jisung held the strands of hair that escaped and rubbed your back for support. “It’s okay.” He would say and once you were done, you just hung there for a moment. “Honey, where is your shirt?” He asked and you shrugged. “We had to make sure there were rashes forming to make sure the chemicals made it to her stomach before she purged.” The medical students said and Jisung nodded.

Jisung was still dressed in his mission uniform but it was dirty with dust and stains. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, as the hot sun beat down on both of you. “Here, you guys take my uniform back and I’ll take her...?” Jisung trailed off. “Medical center. Teacher Jeno can come in and determine if any more is in her system.” The Chemical student said. “Then I can come over later and make sure her levels are stable and we can possibly get Teacher Kun on the phone to make sure he doesn’t need to come up?” The Medical student said and Jisung nodded, “Xiao-Jun is here to gather some documents, so I’ll ask him to look over her before he leaves.” Jisung said as he began taking off his layers.

He first took off his utility vest, then his jacket, then his first bulletproof vest. He handed it to the Chemical student and removed his shirt for a moment, taking his undervest off, throwing it to the boy, and putting the shirt back on his body.

He grabbed you under your arms and pulled you up. He put you on him so you were basically koala-hugging him. He wrapped your legs around his waist and you laid on his shoulder.

He began walking towards the medical building with you in his arms. “I’m cold.” You complained and he laughed a little. “I know. We’re almost to the building. Then I can get you some blankets.” He concluded.

He walked into the air-conditioned building and you automatically groaned at the coolness. “Backroom. Xiao Jun is already in there.” Renjun said as he was walking out with a cup of tea in hand.

Renjun followed both of you to the back room where Jisung sat you down on a bed. You curled into yourself. “I’m cold.” You said again and as if on cue, a blanket was thrown on you. “Jeno said to drink this. It will help with dissolving and stopping the chemicals.” Renjun took your hands and put a hot cup of what smelled and looked like tea in your hands.

You shakily took some into your mouth and it soothed the burning there. You drank mouthfuls and became sleepy. “She’s gonna fall asleep in a little bit, and you can stay here to look over her or you can go wash up and change and I can stay here,” Renjun said and I automatically wanted to take a nap.

“Will you be okay if I go wash up really quick?” Jisung asked, his hand lingering on your cheek for a moment. You nodded, the warmth of his hand feeling amazing. He chuckled, kissing your forehead and walking out; his work boots clinking with every step.

“Alright, time for a nap, y/n.” Renjun said softly, standing up and taking the almost empty cup away from you. “Do you want a sweatshirt? Jisung left it here a couple of days ago while working the late shift?” He asked softly. You nodded softly. Renjun padded out of the room to the reception area and came back moments later.

He helped you put it on, and ley down. He laid a blanket over you and stood next to you for a moment. “If you need me, hit this button. I’m gonna be out there doing some work.” He said and you nodded. He walked out softly and you heard him sit down in the chair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisung knocked on the door softly. The door swung open and a gasp was heard. Jisung’s fist automatically connected with the first face he recognized in the group: Minki.

Minki tried closing the door after pushing Jisung backward into the hall. Jisung faltered as his back hit the wall on the opposite of the door. Some other students peered out of their respective dorms with curious eyes. “Help! He’s crazy!” Everyone heard Minki scream from inside his dorm along with his friends who acted so tough before. Jisung could hear the chain lock be put into place, but it had no use.

“Don’t try to run now. Face me like a man.” Jisung said and at the last word, his foot went through the flimsy door. He continued kicking till there was a big enough space to crawl through without ripping him to shreds.

Jisung only saw red with cloudiness as he gripped the first dude's shirt.

He body slammed him into the table and the guy gargled before his eyes shut.

The other boys of the dorm tried throwing stuff at Jisung to distract him and keep him away. The next guy Jisung caught tried throwing punches on his face. Jisung threw the guy into the was roughly and a satisfying crack was sounded through the walls. Minki tried running into the kitchen to grab a knife...as if that would possibly stop Jisung.

Students crowded around the door to look into the messed up dorm.

Jisung threw his hand up as Minki wielded a steak knife around like he was set for life.

Then as everything was going downhill...a shout broke the murmuring of students. “Park. Ji. Sung.” Mark screamed from the break-in the door. “Come unlock this door right now.” Mark called and he finally saw Minki with a knife pointed towards Jisung. “OH MINKI!” Mark yelled even louder, coming into the actual dorm himself.

He walked over, disarming the stupid boy. Minki ran behind Mark but Jisung was going to get to him eventually. He couldn’t run forever.

“Get out from behind me.” Mark said venomously. Minki cowered. “But he’s gonna hurt me.” He said pointing at Jisung. “He’s crazy.” Minki concluded. “No. You’re crazy for touching what was his. What he cares about.” Mark said walking back to the unconscious boys in the living room.

“M-mark.” Minki tried saying as Jisung stalked closer, looking at him as if he was a prey. “It’s Mr. Lee to you.” Mark corrected the boy, taking the pulse of the injured.

“Listen...we can talk this out.” Minki said as he put his hands out towards Jisung. Jisung smacked his hands away and grabbed Minki’s throat. Jisung slid the by over the counter, clearing everything off that was once on it.

Minki clawed at Jisung’s hands, gasping for breath. Jisung got close and made his promise very clear. “I’m not gonna kill you...I’m not even gonna hurt you.” He said and Minki’s eyes got wide as he started struggling more.

“I am going to make your life a living hell.” Jisung said and Minki stopped moving. “You messed with someone you shouldn’t have even touched. Now you have to go through me.” Jisung spat and Minki nodded.

“I don’t want you to come close to her at all; because I promise on my grave: I can make your death a slow and agonizing one that will have you wanting me to kill you right now.” Jisung vowed. “Now, I’m gonna leave. And I don’t want to see your ass come close to me or any of my friends; especially y/n, again.” Jisung said and Minki nodded quickly. Jisung let him go, standing up straight again. He spat at Minki before leaving.

“See you in class. Bitch.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been 2 weeks since the incident and Jisung hasn’t left your side during classes.

You both walked towards the cafeteria with your group of friends. Jisung was distracted by Minki and his friends watching both of you from their side of the quad.

Jisung threw his arm around you and pulled you close. He winked to Minki who looked away and towards his friends.

“You okay?” You asked Jisung who looked down at you and smiled. “Couldn’t be better, honey.” He kissed your cheek. “Ew.” Your friends said and you laughed as Jisung attacked you with kisses to annoy them. “Get a room.” One of his friends said. “Not allowed to do that, yet.” Donghyuck shouted as he walked past with a group of other teachers.

“Aye, hyung don’t be jealous!” Jisung yelled and Hyuck just looked back at all of you. “Oh shit, run.” You said and you all ran into the cafeteria to avoid a lecture.

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Twenty Seven

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex, mentions of miscarriage, hanging.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Blood and Snow

They crossed the Upper Montana River the same way Ada and Arthur had, Abigail’s words ringing in their ears.

John’s the loudest.

He’d just got her back, and now she was going to leave him again.

But he couldn’t not go. He knew in his heart he couldn’t have ever said no to Sadie and stopping Micah Bell. It bolstered him that Ada and Arthur were going, too. Yet it was only a little; they had just as much to lose as him.

And just as much as he couldn’t say no, they hadn’t been able to either.

One of them should have been yelling at the other, telling them this was a stupid, horrible plan, what the hell were they doing and that they should just turn back, but that not unfounded responsibility had fallen to Abigail.

‘Once again,’ she had said.

But he was just so angry, so fucking angry at Micah for forcing them into this position. To his core Micah was a bad man and they all knew he wouldn’t just leave them be if he got wind of their new, happy lives.

This had to be done.

He glanced over at Arthur and Ada as they passed the burned down Native Residential School, watched as they shared a small, reassuring smile with one another, like they were the only people on the road.

“We’ll be okay,” Arthur murmured, so quietly.

“I know,” Ada answered, the breath she inhaled steeling.

Sadie led their small group, Charles beside her and John, Arthur and Ada behind. They moved quietly, no one really knowing or having anything to say. Their mission hung heavy over their heads, yet it reassured Arthur somewhat that this didn’t feel like the kind of revenge mission he’d feared it would be; blood-thirsty, cold, calculated.

‘Revenge is a fool’s game’, he’d said so, so many times to Dutch during their time together, yet he’d not had much to fight for then.

And here, now, they were a group of tired parents and people, looking to secure a future they had fought so hard for. Revenge wasn’t the word that came to mind when he looked at all of them. Yet who knew how each of them would react when they came face to face with Micah Bell?

He caught the slight squaring of Ada’s shoulders as they turned onto another path and at first he thought it was just the gradual dropping in temperature, but as he heard the noise of a small town, realisation dawned on him.

As they’d packed their bags, he’d told her where Sadie’s route was going to take them through, and she’d just nodded and raised her eyebrows slightly, a faint smile on her lips.

“Well, seems I can’t avoid it any longer.”

Strawberry looked much as it had when he’d last been there, when he’d first met her. Part of him felt he owed so much to this place and to fate for bringing him here, yet it sat in the back of his mind as he glanced at her, keeping his head down, wanting to catch her eye and reassure her again, but her own gaze was darting from cabin to stable as they entered from the south path, the mud beneath them damp.

Ada hadn’t been back to her once home since the night she’d met Arthur. She’d wondered about it, over the years, what it would look like and if it had changed and... it had and it hadn’t. No new buildings had been built, there had never been any space to, but some had definitely been cleaned up, painted and sold to new inhabitants. People bustled about, no more and no less than there had been on the morning walks she used to take. She adjusted the brim of her hat, pulling it down slightly, though she would have been surprised if people had recognised her or even remembered her. They’d read in the papers over the years that Mayor Nicholas Timmins had been re-elected, some claiming through unsavoury means, and that he was still fighting to turn the town into a get-away destination for city folks.

By the looks of things, he hadn’t exactly succeeded. Maybe one or two people had come down from a city, but it wasn’t exactly bustling like he’d always told her he wanted it to be.

I wonder how he is.

She didn’t know what she’d do if she ran into him again, though some bored columnists were currently claiming his health was declining, his failed venture finally starting to take a toll. Maybe he, too, wouldn’t recognise her.

Her gaze landed on the post office as they crossed the bridge over the thundering river, it must have rained recently, and she cleared her throat.

“Can we stop for a moment? I just need to post some letters.”

They all looked to her, and she half expected it to be with an expression of ‘Now? Really?’ but they all, quietly, seemed to understand. Sadie nodded and they remained mounted by the hitching posts as she slid down from the saddle. The air was certainly colder here, she’d almost forgotten how cold Strawberry could get, and she took the opportunity to pull Abigail’s coat on. Abigail was slighter than she was but it just about fit, and she withdrew the three letters from her saddlebag.

Catching Arthur’s eye, they smiled faintly at one another again and she licked her lips as she moved to the stairs.

The post office hadn’t changed one bit. A man she didn’t recognise was behind the counter but everything was just as she remembered, and the familiarity somehow made this heart-breaking act a little less terrifying.

“Hello, ma’am, how may I help you?” the man smiled, leaning against the counter.

At some point in the last few years, she’d gone from ‘miss’ to ‘ma’am’,

“Good morning, I’d like to send these letters, please.” Her heart was beating a little faster as she lay them on the worn, wooden counter. Yet she just told herself what she’d told Arthur; if they lived, their daughter, her brother and his wife would never have to read these, and if they didn’t, she liked to think they would bring some comfort.

She told herself that over and over again as the man marked each envelope. She suddenly could hear her own breathing in her ears, the man’s voice far away as he talked about the weather, and her eyes were now fixed on the envelopes. They were an off-white, the same colour as the pages she’d written on, the only ones she could find in Jack’s room. She’d meant to tell him that she’d taken them, that she would pay for new ones, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to. That would have just led to why she’d taken them and she hadn’t wanted to speak it out loud to anyone but Arthur.

She wished she could have said the gravity of the situation had descended upon her as she’d written them, or now as she was sending them, but... the moment Sadie had said the words it had all come crashing down. She hadn’t cried, and she didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.

It had been a long time since she had been numb, and she used to hate it, but now it brought with it a certain element of protection.

As she paid him, she cleared her throat, a certain lightness within her now.

One of the thoughts that had come to her as she’d watched Millie sleep the first night after her birth was that she’d kill for her, and here she was, fulfilling her promise.

“Anythin’ else I can help you with, ma’am?”

She smiled, shaking her head as she tucked her coin purse back into her pocket. “No, thank you.”

“All right, have a nice day, ma’am!”

Her smile lingering, she turned away from him, feeling quite relieved. Now, she could focus, and—

The door swung open, a small bell tinkling with it.

“Good morning, Hershel!” Nicholas Timmins boomed, a great beam on his features.

“Good morning, sir!”

Mayor Timmins’s beam remained fixed in place as his gaze went to the woman stood in the centre of the post office, a warm greeting ready for her, when he paused.

Ada held his gaze as he looked at her, that great smile not moving. She felt nothing, no fear, no anticipation, no unease.

Her uncle was silent for only two seconds.

“Good morning, ma’am! Have a lovely day!” Inclining his head, he then strode past her to the counter.

As he struck up a conversation with Hershel, Ada moved to the door, the tinkling bell signalling her exit.

Stepping out onto the porch, she inhaled the cold, fresh air. She didn’t have time to dwell on what had just happened, though, as Sadie, Charles and John were nowhere to be seen. Arthur, having dismounted and now also wearing the coat John had given him, was leaning against the railing of the stairs, looking up the path towards the hotel. At the sound of the bell, he looked to her and raised his eyebrows, a corner of his mouth lifting.

“So...” he began as she moved down the stairs, his arms folded, “... Saw your uncle go in.”

"And you didn’t think to yell?”

“Nah, thought he might like a little surprise.”

She snorted faintly as she stepped down onto the mud, arching an eyebrow. “I don’t think it was. He looked right through me. Think he thought he recognised me from somewhere but couldn’t place where.”

“Suppose it’s for the best,” he answered, his arms dropping.

They both knew she wasn’t fazed, in fact she was rather relieved. The only mention of her disappearance from this town had been in the newspaper Arthur had shown her all those years ago at Shady Belle. There hadn’t been a peep since she’d seen him at the party. Glancing at the horses with empty saddles, she raised her eyebrows.

“Where are they?”

“Gone after one of Sadie’s leads, that’s why we’re here. One of Micah’s boys is wanted for murderin’ a woman and he’s been seen drinkin’ here. She says he’ll confirm if Micah’s really at Mount Hagen and what the hide-out looks like.”

Ada followed beside him as they moved up the path, a slight incline to it, frowning. “Wait, so, Micah might not even be there?”

“Nah, she said his camp’s definitely there, just wants to confirm he ain’t off on some kind of raid. It’s quite a spot he’s got, apparently, remote and harsh. Bounty hunters ain’t exactly fond of traipsing through snow and the cold to get to ‘im and, well, he’s literally got the high ground.”

“You’re filling me with such confidence.”

He snorted, hands on his belt. “We’ve been through worse.”

Well, she couldn’t argue with that. She was just about to say so when a commotion and raised voices drew their attention to the saloon up ahead. The doors had burst open and a man was racing across the mud towards a set of stairs that led up to a couple of wooden buildings, and John was chasing after him, yelling.

“C’mon, Cleet, you can’t get away!”

“Cleet?” Ada gasped, recalling the, as Arthur had once described him, rat-faced man who had been with Micah in those fateful last days.

“C’mon, I’ll go with John, you head ‘im off,” Arthur hissed before running after them.

She ran up the path, hearing the men shout, John’s coming loudest over them with, “Stop that man! He’s wanted for murder!”

They sounded like they were rounding the general store so she ran for the hotel, hoping to cut Cleet off there. He was fast, though, sprinting past her, her finger tips brushing against his coat as she reached out for him. She heard John and Arthur behind her as they followed him up towards the east path, and then, suddenly in her peripheral vision, Sadie was there, and Ada felt herself instantly slowing, pre-empting what was to come.

Sadie barrelled into the man, knocking him into the mud and drawing a loud grunt from him. Charles came down the path the wily man had been heading, while John, Ada and Arthur panted lightly, clearing their throats.

Lord, when was the last time they’d had to run after anyone faster than their children?

Sadie was standing over Cleet, and barely let him catch his breath before she was driving her fist into his muddied face.

“Hello, Cleet, remember us?”

He was too busy groaning to respond. She straightened as they approached, glancing up at them.

“Who wants to take a turn?”

That made him find his voice.

“Hey, hey, hey, we’re all buddies, ain’t we?” he laughed desperately, holding a hand up to shield himself.

Arthur snorted at the man while John stepped forward, his gloved fingers curling into fists. “Sure, Sadie. With pleasure...”

Cleet’s eyes were on his fists, but it was John’s boot that struck out, hitting him in the chin and sending him backwards. Before he could even lift his head, John was grabbing him by the front of his coat, hauling half his body up off the ground.

“Where’s Micah, huh, Cleet? He up in the Grizzlies?”

Charles and Sadie stood to the side as John punched him, making eye contact with anyone who stopped to stare until they quickly averted their gaze and hurried away. Arthur and Ada stood side by side, quiet, watching as John dropped him back down.

“Micah? I ain’t seen him— Wait, wait!”

John was already punching him again, hissing out through gritted teeth, “Where is he?!”

“Stop, stop, stop, stop...” Cleet pleaded, holding his hand out again as blood poured from his mouth. “I don’t know... I ain’t seen him, we fell out.”

“We know he’s there, Cleet, you just gotta tell us!”

“I don’t know!”

Before John could strike him again, Sadie tutted, side-eyeing him. “You know what, I’m bored of this. Let’s hang the bastard.”

Ada’s eyes darted to her as she paused.

John nodded, reaching out for him. “Good idea.”

Gripping him by the back of the collar, he started to drag Cleet through the mud, following Sadie towards the gallows.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! Hang on a minute! Damn you!” Cleet was now shouting, trying to grab at John’s arm.

Charles, Ada and Arthur went, too, silent, but not with unease.

The Strawberry gallows hadn’t changed either. A high platform with two sets of stairs leading up to it, it was rather awkwardly situated near the jail and one of the paths that led in and out of the town. Not that many people gathered for hangings, at least not when Ada had lived here, but it seemed as if it had been erected here just because there was space. Three wooden beams were lashed together, and a noose hung from it.

“I told you, I don’t know!”

“C’mon, John, up here,” Sadie called over Cleet’s yelling as she climbed the stairs, sounding bored.

Half lifting him, John threw him onto the stairs and withdrew his gun, aiming it at him. “Move!”

Cleet did as he was told, scrambling backwards up them as he continued to plead, “Now, hold on! Hang on! Just wait a minute!”

He was so focused on John and his gun that he started in surprise when, as he reached the top of the stairs, Sadie grabbed him, pulled him up and shoved him towards the centre of the platform. Ada, Arthur and Charles hadn’t followed them up, instead having opted to stand in front of the gallows, watching them.

“Here. I want you stood right here,” Sadie ordered him, her gun now drawn and aimed at him. Her other hand had him gripped tight as she positioned him before the noose, the gun now aimed at his head. “All right, now string the no good, murderin’ bastard up.”

As John grabbed the noose and yanked it down, securing it around Cleet’s neck as he spluttered his pleas, Charles murmured to them, “You okay with this?”

“I’m not not okay with it,” Arthur mumbled with a faint shrug, and Ada found she was rather indifferent, too; Cleet was a murderer, a wanted man who was probably going to be hanged anyway.

A few townspeople had gathered to watch now, and John just moved to the lever that would open the floor beneath Cleet, his hand gripping it.

“Is Micah there, Cleet?”

Cleet had his hands raised, stumbling over his words. “N-Now hang on! Just w-wait—”

“Is he there?”

“I already told you, I ain’t seen ‘im!”

“You lie!” Sadie barked.

“It ain’t my fault!” he yelled, “He tried to kill me!”

“Where’s Micah!” John shouted, his hand moving the lever an inch.

Cleet’s eyes widened and he started, staring at John. “No, no, no, no! Wait, please!”

“Talk, or I’ll pull this lever!”

He moved it an inch more and Cleet cried out, stiff, “W-Wait, wait, wait! H-He is up in the mountains!”

John released the lever and they paused, allowing him to take a breath.

“He... H-He is up at Mount Hagen. He got a whole gang now... Bad men, doin’ bad things... I-I tried to stop him from m-murderin’ that little girl...”

Ada’s stomach turned, and she swallowed hard.

“... We f-fell out, honest... I’m...” He managed a weak smile. “... I’m one of the good guys.”

“Hang ‘im.”

They all looked to Arthur, his mouth set in a thin line, and Cleet became frantic.

“No, no, no, no, no! Wait, don’t! John, don’t!”

John didn’t even hesitate. Gripping the lever, he pulled it. The floor opened beneath Cleet and he dropped. They all heard his neck snap.

Mumblings went though the small crowd that had gathered, and then they started to shuffle off. The Sheriff, a man Ada didn’t recognise, just turned from where he’d been standing in the doorway of the jail, watching, and headed back inside.

“Tried to stop ‘im, did he,” Arthur muttered, watching the body. “Could’ve shot the bastard.”

“C’mon, let’s go,” Sadie said, nonplussed, vaulting over the railing around the platform down onto the mud.

“We’re just leaving him there?” Charles said, even as he followed after her along with them.

“Let the birds eat ‘im.”

They mounted up and passed by the swinging corpse of Cleet as they made their way out of the town. Ada felt no nostalgia for the place, no affection or loss at leaving again. She didn’t think she would ever return.

“It’s a long ride,” Charles murmured as they urged their horses into canters. “Let’s finish this.”

They rode hard, all of them wanting this over and done. As Charles said, though, it was a long ride.

When the sky darkened and the air grew colder and colder, it was he who called that they should stop for the night. They’d taken a few minutes rest here and there throughout the day but they all knew they and the horses were exhausted, and they certainly didn’t want to encounter Micah and his men like this.

They stopped at a grassy, lightly snow covered hill, a forest at their backs, and let their horses graze as they unfurled their bedrolls. Charles built and lit a fire and they ate what they’d packed as they sat huddled around it. It was bitterly cold, and would only get colder. They were near the mountains now, perhaps ten or twenty miles away from the path they would take up into them, and Ada gazed at their peaks as she ate quietly.

Micah was somewhere within them.

She’d thought about him as they travelled, what he might look like now and how he might have changed. He’d be meaner, angrier, that was for sure, but she didn’t feel afraid.

Her gaze shifted to their group, watching them all. John and Arthur were sat together talking quietly, about what she couldn’t hear, Charles was sat on a rock a little way a way, keeping guard, and Sadie was sat beside her, as silent as she was.

Licking her lips, Ada cleared her throat. “Sadie?”

“Hm?” The blonde woman looked to her, raising her eyebrows slightly.

She just came out and asked it. “Why doesn’t Abigail like you anymore?”

Sadie snorted, her eyes returning to the fire as her eyebrows rose a little higher. “And here I was thinkin’ she was doin’ such a great job at hidin’ it.” Shifting her stretched out legs, she shrugged her shoulders slightly. “John’s been joinin’ me on some bounty huntin’ duties to make some money. Abigail hasn’t liked that.”

Oh.

“And so with this...”

Sadie shrugged again, a faint, wan smile on her lips. “She’s gonna hate me even more.”

Ada returned her smile, exhaling a breath. “Well, she hates me now, too. Hates us all, so...”

Her friend watched her, her head tilted slightly. “Yet you don’t blame her.”

She shook her head, the barely-there smile lingering. “No.”

“Hm. Neither do I.”

They returned to their silence, neither really wanting to talk. A short while later, John took over from Charles and Ada said a quiet goodnight to Sadie, who needed her rest as she would be taking over after John, before she joined Arthur.

Sat on his bedroll, he lifted an arm as she approached and she sat on her own bedroll beside him, leaning against him and his arm went around her.

“You okay, darlin’?” he murmured after a few moments, his cheek resting against the top of her head.

“Yeah,” she answered just as quietly. “Just want this done.”

“Me, too.”

Rubbing her arm gently, he held her until she started to finally doze off, her breathing softening. Carefully laying her down with him, he continued to hold her, gazing up at the pitch-black sky littered with shining stars.

His heart had been aching since the moment they’d set off that morning. He loved his wife and daughter more than he could ever possibly say, and two days ago he would never have done anything that would have put their happiness in jeopardy... but the existence of Micah Bell did just that.

If he was the one to put the bullet in the man’s skull he wouldn’t feel joy but relief. At least, he hoped he wouldn’t feel joy; he didn’t want to be that kind of man, never had. He kept his eyes on the sky, listening to their friends quietly settle down for the night, the same thoughts probably on their minds, the same fears.

He knew it would be useless to say they could still turn back now; they all knew they couldn’t.

—

They awoke just before dawn, having all just snatched a couple of hours sleep here and there.

John stamped the fire out after they’d eaten what little they could manage, no one particularly hungry. They mounted up without much talk or ceremony, and followed Sadie onto the path towards the mountains. It was a cold, misty day, the sky slowly turning from black to grey. They didn’t meet anybody as they travelled; who would be foolish enough to be out this early and when it was this freezing?

Ada knew they were near when Charles kicked his horse into a canter as they made their way up an hill, snowflakes starting to lightly fall.

“We all ready?” he called to them, overtaking Sadie. “This pass will take us up onto the high mountains. There’s an old watchtower up there, over the ridge. They might be using it for a camp.”

“Lead the way!” Sadie answered.

This was it.

Squaring her shoulders, Ada gripped the reins tightly as they climbed. Huge rocks lay to their left and right, and the tall trees had thinned out now, patchy grass turning to snow and rock. They went higher and higher, small stones sliding down the path behind them. Wind whistled around the rocks, mingling with the far cries of a few birds, but other than that there were no other sounds... or were they just masking them?

Her gaze shifted from the back of Charles’s head to the rocks above, half-expecting men to jump out from all over and attack. She hoped Micah was stupid enough to not station a look-out here.

But Micah Bell, while many things, was not stupid.

A gunshot sounded and a split-second later Charles cried out, his teeth sounding gritted. Ada’s heart twisted as Sadie and John leapt off their horses, the animals shifting, startled, unable to see Charles.

“There must be a sniper! Get to cover, quick!” Sadie yelled as Ada and Arthur slid from their own saddles, pulling their guns from them as they ducked down.

“Shit...” Arthur hissed as he scanned the rocks above now, Ada shooing their horses back down the path.

“You alive, Charles?” John called as they ran up the hill.

Charles, off his horse somehow, either from the impact of the shot or voluntarily, was lying on the ground, gripping at his arm.

“Just about,” he hissed out through gritted teeth as Arthur and John quickly grabbed him under the arms and hauled him behind a boulder as Sadie and Ada took to their own cover.

“Where is this bastard?” Sadie muttered, crouched behind a rock a few feet away from her.

Ada adjusted the grip on her Repeater, peering out as carefully as she could. A bullet bounced off a rock somewhere close by and they all ducked down as another one came.

“Stay low!” Sadie yelled, even as she rose up slightly and darted to the next rock up. Ada did the same as the blonde woman continued, “We gotta get close to ‘im! Short runs so he don’t get us!”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur and John moving up, too, all of them taking the short opportunity when the sniper wasn’t firing. His bullets came close but the rocks were large enough to give them plenty of cover.

It almost startled her when the man’s voice rang down the pass.

“I got the high ground up here! I got a box of bullets, a canteen and some jerky, you can try by all means but you ain’t gettin’ up this pass! Just ask your friend back there!”

John was surging ahead, faster than any of them, and her heart was in her mouth every time he moved.

Even the sniper noticed his speed. “You’re persistent all right! Guess you ain’t here by no accident!”

Ada ceased moving from rock to rock and instead aimed at where the man seemed to be, firing to try and keep her friends safe. That silenced him but he fired back, and she was certainly happy to keep him occupied because John was getting closer and closer...

“Take the shot!” Sadie suddenly yelled, and Ada looked just in time to see John rise and fire.

“You shot my friend, you son of a bitch!”

The man cried out, the bullet finding its mark.

“You got him!” Sadie cried, and Ada exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Let’s get back to Charles!”

They slid slightly down the rocky path as they ran, Arthur ahead of them. Chares was still propped against the boulder when they got to him, breathing hard and gripping at where his chest met his right shoulder.

“You okay?” Arthur asked, crouching beside him and placing a hand on his good shoulder.

Sadie kept glancing up from him to the ridge as they looked at him, their hearts sinking.

“I will be...” he groaned, and that soothed them somewhat because he wasn’t one to lie. “... but go on, go now!”

They still paused, however, and he knew what they were thinking.

“I’ll be fine. Move fast, or they’ll come down that hill and kill us all.”

They knew he was right but...

“I don’t wanna leave him,” John murmured, glancing up at Arthur who was rubbing his fingers against his brow.

"He’s righ’, though,” Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “If we push on, we can hold ‘em back, get to ‘em before they get to us.”

Charles was nodding, his breaths deepening. “They know we’re comin’ now... I will be fine... I’ll follow you up, I just... I just can’t move fast.”

Even though she knew he wouldn’t, no matter what, Ada murmured to him as she removed her scarf and wrapped it around his neck, “Get on your horse and get down the pass if you can’t, okay?”

He nodded, though she knew it was just to appease her. “Now, go!”

Gripping their weapons, they reluctantly left him there as they started to stride up the hill, John hissing out curses.

“They will know we’re comin’ now,” Arthur murmured, wetting his lips. “They won’t know our number, though, and hopefully we can still take ‘em somewhat by surprise.”

“I should hope so,” Sadie muttered. “They still got the high ground, though, so we better move.”

They quickened their pace, running up the hill, though the thick snow on the ground didn’t make it easy nor did the steepness of the incline. Ada kept her eyes up, waiting, again, for an attack at any moment. She was the one to spot him first.

“Here they come!”

A man was running down the snowy ridge towards them, standing out starkly against the white of it in his dark clothes. She raised her Repeater and fired first, killing him.

“There’s another one!” Arthur called and Sadie shot the man who came behind him as they finally reached the top of the hill, the ground evening out.

A few trees and rocks littered the wide pathway before them but they couldn’t stop for long; they had to push on.

“Up on the cliff!” Sadie yelled, and John shot a man readying to shoot at them.

There were more men now, some up on the cliffs, some hiding behind the rocks on the path ahead of them, and the four of them aimed and fired as they moved up, ducking behind rocks only for a few seconds before darting ahead for another.

A man screamed as he tumbled over the cliff but they just ran on, not wanting to lose any kind of advantage by a second. They were running up another incline now, the snow even thicker.

“More of ‘em!” At Arthur’s call they aimed at the three men who were trying to run for cover, two others hiding amongst the trees. They died in seconds.

“There’s a camp here!” John said as they climbed a hill with gritted teeth, each breath taking cold air into their lungs.

“Can’t be the main one,” Sadie answered as their eyes travelled the four tents and the still burning fire. “It’s not big enough, Micah rides with twenty guys, maybe more. Keep climbin’ ‘till we find that tower Charles talked about!”

The hill was steepening. They hissed out breaths and grunted as they pushed on and reloaded, the snow nearly up to their knees, and Sadie muttered out a curse.

“Air’s gettin’ thin. Let’s fuckin’ do this.”

They reached the top, the land now mercifully flat, but they barely had a chance to catch their breath as two men, waiting, fired at them from the path ahead. Arthur and Ada killed them, the two of them stood side by side.

Running across the path, they came to another incline, this one shorter but steeper. Arthur placed a hand on Ada’s back, helping her up as Sadie, already at the top, yelled, “Micah Bell, we’re here for ya!”

“I didn’t sign up for this much leg-work,” Arthur muttered and a sudden laugh escaped Ada; it was a beautiful, beautiful moment of release.

Yet it was just a moment.

Bullets buried into the snow around them and they had to be firing again, two men several feet apart aiming at them, though it was just Ada, John and Arthur who fired back and killed them. Sadie was charging ahead, a newfound energy from somewhere in her.

“Sadie!” John called after her as they tried to catch up, yet another incline slowing them. “Be careful!”

“I can handle it! C’mon! Keep pushin’ up!”

She was metres ahead, reaching the top and heading around the corner of a huge rock jutting out of the snow. Ada’s legs were burning but she just kept her eyes on her friend. She was so far ahead of them, why wasn’t she just waiting for—

“C’mere!”

A man leapt from the rock and tackled Sadie, driving her into the snow. Ada’s breath caught sharply in her throat as she gasped, trying to run faster.

“Sadie!”

“Get your hands off her!” John thundered as the man wrestled with her, raising his gun, but he barely had time to take aim when another man leapt off the rock, colliding with him.

They collapsed to the floor, John grunting as the man punched him and he instantly punched back. Arthur was ahead of Ada now, striking the man across the head with his boot, fury across his features. Ada ran past them but heard the gunshot that killed the man, her eyes still fixed on her friend.

Sadie and the man were on their feet now, twisting and turning as they continued to wrestle and Ada couldn’t find a safe shot, they were moving too much, if she could just—

She saw the glint of it in the man’s hand.

Ada cried out as he thrust the knife into Sadie’s side and she heard her friend gasp. A gun went off, a hole tearing through the man’s stomach as Sadie stumbled back. Her breathing ragged, Ada lunged forward, finally reaching her, and swiftly wrapped an arm around her, keeping her upright.

“You’re all right, you’re okay, you’re okay...” she murmured, hating with every fibre of her being the strange, strangled sounds Sadie was making.

A lump was forming in her throat as she heard John hiss, “God damn...” behind her, tears starting to prick at her eyes.

Sadie clenched her jaw as she gripped the knife and pulled it out, tossing it to the floor with a gasped breath.

“Hey, hey, you all righ’?” Arthur asked with a concerned frown, at her other side now and gripping her arm. “Charles got ‘im, it’s okay.”

Ada’s head whipped to the side, finding Charles trying to catch his breath as he knelt on the ground, his gun in his hand. Looking back to Sadie, she swallowed hard as the woman nodded.

“Just fine...”

“You don’t look too fine,” John said, and Sadie was vehemently shaking her head even as Ada felt her legs weaken slightly.

“C’mon, we gotta keep goin’...”

“You’re bleedin’ pretty bad, Sadie,” Arthur pointed out gently, and Sadie hissed out a breath.

“I’m fine—”

“No, you’re not,” Ada cut her off, swallowing again as she looked at the blood staining Sadie’s coat. “Arthur, let’s sit her down...”

They helped her over to a boulder, making her sit down, and it had obviously pained Sadie as she released a long breath she must have been holding.

“Ain’t nothin’—”

“You’re dyin’,” John said, and the words cut through Ada like shards of glass.

“I ain’t dyin’, I ain’t,” Sadie hissed, and Ada so wanted to believe her.

“Give me your scarf, Arthur.”

He swiftly removed it and handed it to his wife without a word, watching as she crouched and pushed it against Sadie’s wound before grabbing the woman’s hand, making her press down on it. The blonde woman winced and Ada met her gaze.

“Keep doing this until we come back, okay?”

“I’m comin’ with you, I just need to—”

“No, you’re staying here with Charles.”

It was a moment or two before Sadie nodded, her teeth gritted. “Go get ‘im, I’ll be fine, just need to rest.”

Ada gazed at her, her pale cheeks and weary eyes, and then she made a decision.

“There can’t be many more men, right?”

Sadie shook her head, taking a breath. “He’ll’ve sent ‘em all out while he hid. There can’t be many of ‘em left.”

Wetting her lips, Ada looked up at Arthur and John. “I’ll stay here with these two. I’ll try and get this bleeding to stop and deal with any of his men that might run.”

“You sure?” Arthur asked, holding her gaze.

She nodded, managing a light smile. “Yeah. Now go, go and finish this.”

He lay a hand on her shoulder and squeezed hard, her own hand going over his for the briefest of moments, and then it was gone. She watched her husband turn away and start running along the path with his greatest friend until they were out of sight.

Arthur reloaded his guns as he and John ran without saying a word. He wished he’d had the time to hold his wife and kiss her and tell her he loved her but they had no time. Even before they reached the end of the path, three men gripping guns were walking towards them, and he was all too aware of how close they were to his friends.

He and John slowed, eyeing the men warily because they weren’t firing at them. Yet.

The man in the middle, a tall, barrel-chested man, smiled.

“Well, well, well... ain’t you a persistent pair. This is your last chance to turn around and head on home, boys.”

“Nah, we got somethin’ to do here,” Arthur drawled, shifting his stance. “Sure you don’t wanna head on home?”

The man laughed, truly delighted at the challenge.

“Sounds like there was more of ya... Just you two now is it?”

“Yeah,” John said before Arthur could answer. “Just us.”

The man nodded. “Well, then, boys, it was nice to meet ya.”

Guns clicked as they were raised, but it was John and Arthur who were faster. The sounds of their bullets echoed across the ridge, mingling with the cries of the men. The one they’d spoken to had wide eyes, incredulous that they had been beaten.

Lowering their guns as the bodies dropped, John and Arthur continued on, the younger man wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“We gotta be close if he’s sendin’ someone out to try and reason with us.”

“I think he wanted 'em to kill us, not reason.”

Arthur hadn’t exactly been keeping track but Sadie had to be right, there had to be only a few of them left now, yet he couldn’t imagine Micah giving up or being afraid; he was too arrogant, too wily. He also had a feeling that if Micah knew who was about to storm into his camp, then he wouldn’t have sent all his men out to die in the snow.

Their route took them down now, finally, giving them the high ground and the advantage as they ran down, shooting at the men they could now finally see. There were only three, and they were surprised and alarmed, having expected their own men to have succeeded.

“You’re ridin’ with a turncoat!” John yelled tauntingly as two more men appeared on a cliff, he and Arthur killing them instantly. “You’re fools or worse!”

They were nearing a narrow pass between two cliffs, a man stood guarding at it while another was high on the cliff above. As John fired at the man on the cliff, Arthur killed the man at the pass, and then heard snow crunch behind him. For a second he thought it might be Ada following them down, but just before he could turn someone crashed into him, a man practically growling.

“You’re dead men!” he was shouting, and Arthur gritted his teeth as he shoved his elbow back, driving it into the man’s side. He hadn’t been strong enough to knock him to the ground but he had a wild energy, his eyes wide as he went at him with his fists.

Darting backwards, Arthur then struck him with the butt of his revolver before driving him back now, striking him again before shooting him.

“C’mon, Arthur!” John called and Arthur turned away, running through the narrow pass with him.

A man was waiting for them at the end but he was dealt with swiftly. Another came darting over a rock and he was flung backwards sharply by John’s bullet.

“This way!” Arthur shouted and John followed him up a hill, their breaths harsh.

They were more skilled shots than the men they had currently faced but they were having to do more running, and their lungs were starting to burn.

But Arthur knew they were moments away from the camp when four men surged over the hill towards them, firing repeatedly. Shoving John behind a rock, he crouched with him, flinching a couple of times as bullets battered against it, making pieces break off. They ducked out when they could, firing back at the men who had slowed slightly but were still advancing towards them.

Micah’s men were getting desperate, though, and desperation made way for mistakes. The mountain widened out up here and there were no more rocks beyond theirs to hide behind. The men, realising this in the same moment they realised they needed to reload, charged forward, hoping to take the two men by surprise. Instead, they handed themselves to Arthur and John.

They died only a few feet away, their blood seeping into the snow. Rising, John and Arthur darted up the hill and were finally greeted by the sight of groups of tents, firepits and two crumbling shacks. They didn’t have a chance to take it all in, though, as a few men hid amongst the crates and cloth tents, shooting at them the moment they saw them. Grabbing Arthur’s arm, John pulled him behind a stack of wooden boxes, and they returned the fire.

“How many of ‘em are there?” Arthur asked as loudly as he could over the noise. leaning back against the boxes as he reloaded.

John ducked down as he exhaled a breath, rolling his shoulders. “Three, I think. Could be more, though, hidin’.”

Peering around the boxes, Arthur’s gaze landed on something that made a corner of his mouth lift. “Well, let’s flush ‘em out.”

Raising his revolver, he aimed at a crate of dynamite and pulled the trigger. The explosion made the ground shake and flung wood and debris across the snow. Ducking down, Arthur and John covered their heads as it rained down, the sounds of men crying out accompanying it, along with, “You bastards!”

The two men, using the settling snow and dust as cover, darted towards the tents, shooting the men they came across. They died quickly, disorientated from the blast. Heading on, they moved down a hill, another cluster of tents to their left but no sign of anyone so they continued on down, the hill declining steeply. The sudden silence uneased them so they slowed their pace a little, but it didn’t stop John from calling out.

“Micah! Get out here!”

They came to a single tent on a small space of flat land with a fire still burning outside it, and Arthur saw the flash of movement first. He shot the man as they continued walking. As they came to yet another steep decline, they saw it.

The watchtower was smaller than Arthur had expected, with a wide roof on it and a closed door, and there were two more crumbling shacks outside it, a firepit, stacked boxes, and planks of wood and a wagon strewn about, but there was no one to be seen.

Their boots slid in the knee-deep snow as they made their way down, eyes darting from the tower to the shacks. It was quiet still, not even the wind whistling or howling. It was a long stretch of snow, and Arthur was suddenly aware of how cold and numb his face felt while his body was so warm under the thick coat from all the running and climbing. Grazing his teeth over his lower lip, he exhaled a long breath, though it did nothing to relieve the tension in his shoulders.

“Micah, if you’re here, come out!” John called out again as he and Arthur approached, on flat ground now.

They paused near a wide, open box on a wooden platform, scanning the camp, just waiting for the sound of a gun.

There was silence. Licking his lips, Arthur raised his eyes to the look-out of the watchtower as John called again, “Micah Bell! Get out here, you coward!”

The creaking of the wooden door a few moments later had their eyes snapping to it, their fingers tightening around their guns.

“Hello, Scarface,” Micah Bell drawled as he stepped out, the door swinging shut behind him. “And...”

He trailed off, his gaze having slid to Arthur. Both men, having believed the other dead, stared at each other.

Micah had aged, his face now somewhat gaunt, beard and moustache thinner, the blonde lighter, and his hair, under a white hat, was shorter. He had a thick brown coat on that was tied tightly around his wait by a belt that also held the two things he loved most in the world: his guns.

A smile suddenly broke across his features, and he shook his head.

“Cowpoke.” The old nickname was said slow and pointed, his eyes shining with glee. “Well, what a damn surprise. Must be for you, too.” Holding his arms out, he tilted his head. “Did you miss me?”

It was John who answered, Arthur silent as he didn’t take his eyes off of him.

“Not much.”

Micah’s gaze slid from one man to the other. “Been a few years.”

John, watching him watching them, went to move around the fire pit in front of them, wanting to spread him and Arthur out, but Micah suddenly darted closer to the same side as him, chuckling lowly, his smile lingering.

“How’s that, uh... Mmm...” He raised his hand slightly, as if trying to pluck the name he knew out of the air. “... That whore of yours?”

John didn’t take the bait. “She’s good. Didn’t reckon I should waste my time killin’ you, but I felt different.”

“So it seems.” Micah looked to Arthur, raising his eyebrows slightly. “What about you, cowpoke... That uptight bitch still keepin’ you warm?”

John glanced briefly at Arthur, not wanting to take his eyes off Micah for long, and found he hadn’t moved an inch, his features expressionless. He thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then Arthur nodded a few times.

“Yeah, matter of fact she is. And she did reckon I should kill you.”

Micah’s smile grew a couple of inches wider. Raising his arms, he tilted his head. “Well, maybe after all this is over, I’ll go pay ‘em both a call, hm?” He turned his gaze to John. “And the boy.”

His tone made Arthur’s skin prickle, but he stayed still. John shrugged. They both knew what was about to happen.

“Whatever you say.”

The moment the words had left John’s mouth, Micah was drawing his guns and firing at them. They dove for cover as he swiftly moved backwards towards the shack behind him. John ducked behind two crates as Arthur crouched by the wide box on the platform, glancing at one another.

“I got more men comin’, boys!” Micah called, ceasing his fire as he took his own cover.

He fired in their general direction before it went quiet again, and Arthur peered out. As Micah appeared to fire, Arthur found he was by the side of the watchtower, using that rather than the shack.

“I look forward to meetin’ em!” John answered, shifting his position so he could rise up a little and fire at Micah.

He picked the wrong moment.

He hissed out a breath as Micah’s bullet grazed his forearm, swiftly dropping down again.

“You okay?” Arthur watched him mutter a curse as he inspected his arm, blood soaking through his jacket.

“‘m fine. Flesh wound.”

“All righ’, if we—”

“Run while you can, boys! It’s your only hope!”

Meeting John’s gaze, Arthur shifted closer to the edge of the box, keeping his voice low.

“He ain’t got more men comin’, we both know that. It’s just us against him here. If you cover me, I can get to the tower and take him from the other side—”

A hail of bullets battered against the wood protecting them as Micah fired at them while he ran from the tower to the shack, and then to the other.

“Shit...” Arthur muttered, his jaw moving.

“I can make you rich, boys! Real rich!”

“He’s gotta reload at some point,” John murmured, wetting his lips. “Should be any moment now—”

More bullets came and they flinched, lowering their heads. Then, it stopped suddenly. Arthur glanced up at John as he frowned, and was about to open his mouth when they heard a familiar voice.

“Come on out, Micah,” Sadie called, pain lacing her tone. “At least die like a man.”

Micah gave a delighted laugh. “Ooh, ho, ho, hellfire...”

Raising their heads, John and Arthur watched as Sadie, stood in the larger shack that lay between Micah’s current one he was using as cover and the watchtower, aimed a gun at him, her hand pressed against the scarf that was now wrapped around her middle.

“Where’s Ada and Charles?” Arthur hissed, glancing up at the snowy hill before swiftly looking back to Sadie.

“... it’s just like old times,” Micah was saying as he slowly raised his hands, his guns still in them, turning towards Sadie.

“C’mon,” she demanded through gritted teeth, taking a step closer. “You turn around...” She stumbled slightly and had to lean against the wooden fencing next to her. Arthur’s heart sank as he watched Micah laugh while Sadie continued, “... and start walkin’.”

And Micah did. Rising to their feet, the men watched Sadie move towards him, pressing her gun into his back and shoving him on.

“You got me,” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder at her, before his gaze went to Arthur and John as they approached. His tone lightened to an almost sing-song as he smiled again. “Just like old times, hm?” He holstered one gun. “All manner of folk payin’ social calls.” He holstered the other.

Arthur felt sick at his knowing smile.

Then, the watchtower door was shoved open.

Startled, Sadie, John and Arthur looked to it, and Arthur felt his heart stop.

Jesus Christ.

Dutch van der Linde stepped out of the watchtower, the guns in his hands raised and pointed at them.

“Hello, sons,” he greeted, eyes shifting from the silent men to Sadie. “Mrs Adler. Been quite a while.”

—

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winchesterbrotherstan · 4 years

Text

SPN- Everybody Loves a Clown (2.02)

are there actually people who unironically enjoy clowns?

Pairing: Olive Winchester (OC), a little Dean x Jo

Summary: After being hit with tragedy, the Winchester siblings make another move. Dean hides his emotions, Sam is on edge, and when the regular ups and downs of sibling love become extreme, Olive struggles with her brothers.

Warnings: blood, death, knife, injury, cursing, the usual

Word Count: 7951

I was cuddled into Sam’s side. Dean had been cold and distant, and as much as it hurt, I couldn’t blame him. Dad had made a deal. He did what I was going to do. Sam and Dean could never know. It would break them.

The smoke from the funeral pyre burned my eyes. Sam was fidgeting, close to tears. Dean was silent, staring into the fire with the look of death in his eyes. I sniffled as I ducked my face into Sam. He tightened his arms around me.

“Before he… before, did he say anything to you? About anything?” Sam whispered.

Dean didn’t look away from the fire. “No. Nothing.”

I bit my tongue.

Liar.

***

I rubbed my eyes as I stepped out onto the porch. It had been a week, and we were staying at Bobby’s. I missed Dad a lot, I did. But I threw myself head on into taking care of everybody else instead of grieving. It was easier to be detached and pretend nothing had happened.

Dean was working on Baby, and I wasn’t sure what Sam was doing. I shuffled out into the junkyard with a mug and bottle in hand. The dirt crunched under my bare feet, and chances were I’d step on broken glass, but it was the least of my worries.

“De?”

“Here!” He called back.

I followed the sound of his voice and found him working on Baby. He was under, with only his legs sticking out. She was still just a rusted frame, but she looked a lot better than she had when I had found them.

Jinx was lying in the shade next to him. She hadn’t left his side ever since he got out of the hospital. It was like she knew what was happening.

“How’s she coming?”

“Slow.” Dean grunted back.

“Brought you a beer. Fresh out the fridge.” I smiled softly.

“Thanks, baby.”

I sighed and placed the bottle on the table, wrapping an arm around myself. He was still distant, and it was starting to hurt more and more.

“Hey.”

I turned to see Sam approaching. “How’s it going?”

I shrugged and Dean said nothing.

“Need any help?” Sam offered.

Dean pulled something off and dropped it. I jumped. He scoffed.

“What, you under a hood? I’ll pass.”

Dean pushed himself out from under the car and got to his feet. He dropped a tool on the table and wiped his hands before cracking open the bottle of beer.

“Stop it, Sam.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I’m okay.” Dean forced a chuckle. “I’m okay. Really. I promise.”

“Alright, Dean, it’s just…” Sam sighed. “We’ve been at Bobby’s for over a week now and you haven’t brought up Dad once.”

Dean sighed and turned to Sam. “You know what, you’re right. Come here. I’m gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder.”

I giggled.

“Maybe we can cry and hug, and maybe even slow dance.”

“Olive, shut up.” Sam snapped.

I cut the giggle short and sat down on the ground, next to Jinx.

Sam had been pissy too.

Yes, they had lost Dad, but I had lost him too. The last thing I said to him was something mean, although now I couldn’t remember what. I needed my brothers now more than ever, but they were each too caught up in their own grief to see that.

“Don’t patronize me, Dean. Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you’re acting like nothing happened.”

“What do you want me to say, Sam?”

“Say something, alright? Hell, say anything! Aren’t you angry? Don’t you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car!”

“Sam-”

“And you, Olive! All you’ve been doing is sleeping in and then sitting out here with him. Why aren’t you guys upset?”

“Revenge, huh?” Dean spoke up, seeing that I was, once more, close to tears.

“Yeah.” Sam scoffed.

“Sounds good.” Dean scowled. “You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad’s research? Because we sure ain’t. But you know, if we do finally find it-oh, wait, no. Like you said, the Colt’s gone. But I’m sure you’ve figured out another way to kill it.”

I sighed as I stood. “Look, Sam. We’ve got nothing.”

“Exactly. Nothing. So you know the only thing I can do is I can work on the car.” Dean spat, crouching down and getting back to work.

I ran my hands over my face with a heavy sigh.

“Well, we’ve got something. Alright?” Sam pulled out a cell phone. “It’s what I came by here to tell you guys. This is one of Dad’s old phones. Took me a while, but I finally cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this.” He held the phone out.

I took it and put it on speaker, holding it by Dean.

“John, it’s Ellen. Again. Look, don’t be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.”

“That message is four months old.” Sam sighed.

Dean and I looked at each other, unimpressed. I handed the phone back.

“Dad saved that chick’s message for four months?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded.

“Well, who the fuck is Ellen? There’s no mention of her in Dad’s journal, is there?”

Sam shook his head. “No. But I ran a trace on the phone number and I got an address.”

I sighed as I looked between the two. Sam was right, Dean hadn’t done anything except for work on Baby. I wasn’t in any summer school program, but at this rate I was beginning to wish I was. The three of us needed a distraction to get us out of this funk.

But going after the demon was a bad idea. I knew that much.

Dean sighed. “Olive, go ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars.”

I sighed again and dumped my coffee on the ground.

“Come on, Jinx. You’re staying with Bobby.”

***

“This is humiliating. I feel like a fucking soccer mom.” Dean grumbled.

“It’s the only car Bobby had running.” Sam put the mini van in park and stepped out onto the dirt parking lot.

“Hello? Anybody here?”

I looked up at the sign.

Roadhouse.

“Hey. You bring the, uh-”

“Of course.” Sam fished the fake IDs out of his jacket pocket and tossed one at Dean.

He caught it and pushed the door open. Sam and I followed. The place was quiet, with the exception of a single fly buzzing around. It landed on a light, which proceeded to fizz out.

I noticed a man passed out on the pool table in the back room. I nudged Dean and pointed.

“Hey buddy?”

“I’m guessing that isn’t Ellen.” Sam sighed.

“Yeah.”

The three of us split up. I went back around to the first room, ducking behind the bar to check out what was left. Sam had gone down to the back room, and Dean moved toward the steps. He coughed.

“Oh god, please let that be a rifle.”

I heard the sound of a rifle cocking and I froze.

Shit!

I pulled my gun from my waistband and made sure I was ready..

“No. I’m just real happy to see you. Don’t move.”

“Not moving, copy that.” I heard Dean sass back. “You know, you should know something, miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don’t want to put it right against their back, because it makes it real easy to do… that.”

I stayed under the counter, jaw clenched.

There was a grunt and skin against skin.

“Olive! Need some help in here!” He called, cupping his nose. “Can’t even see. I can’t even see.”

“Hey!” I barked as I stood, gun up. “Dean, you okay?”

He nodded in response. The girl was blonde, and probably about Dean’s age. She looked between Dean and I, unsure where to aim the gun. Sam was ushered in by an older woman. Both hands were on his head. I squared my shoulders as I lined up the shot for the older woman.

“Sam?” I kept my eyes on the women. “You okay?”

He nodded. “A bit tied up is all.”

“Wait. Sam? Dean? Olive? Winchester?”

“Yeah.” The three of us spat.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Mom, you know these people?”

“Yeah.” The lady laughed as she lowered her gun. “I think these are John Winchester’s kids.”

“Put the rifle down.” I ordered, nodding at the younger one.

She did just that, and her mom smiled. “Hey, I’m Ellen. This is my daughter, Jo.”

Dean smiled at her.

“Hey.” Jo mumbled.

I put the safety back on my gun and tucked it back into my jeans.

“You’re not gonna hit me again, are ya?” Dean asked, hand on his nose.

***

Ellen handed Dean a bag of ice. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks.” Dean fumbled with it.

I took it from his hand and made him look my way as I pressed it to his nose.

“You called our dad and said you could help. With what?”

“Well, the demon, of course.”

I dropped the ice and looked at Dean with wide eyes. He squinted and turned to face Sam, who looked just as confused.

“Heard he was closing in on it.”

“What, was there an article in Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed? I mean, wh-who are you? How do you know about all this?”

“Hey, I just run a saloon.” Ellen put her hands up. “But hunters have been known to pass through now and again.” She looked at Jo.

I put the ice back up to Dean’s nose with a sigh.

“Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean countered. “How come he’s never mentioned you before?”

“You’d have to ask him that.”

“So why exactly do we need your help?” Dean’s top lip furled into a frown.

I pressed the ice into his face, and he winced.

“Hey, don’t do me any favors.” Ellen started.

“Ellen, look…” I cut her off, feeling tears well in my eyes.

She sighed as she realized.

“It was the demon, we think. It, uh… it got him before he got it.” Sam spoke calmly.

I looked back down, and Dean continued to ice his nose.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Dean looked up with a strong face and a soft smile.

My heart clenched, and I leaned into his chest, tears streaming down my cheeks. He wrapped an arm around me and kept his head high.

“We’re alright.”

“Really? I know how close you and your dad-”

“Really, lady, I’m fine.” Dean cut her off.

This is not up for debate.

“So look, if you can help…” Sam sighed. “We could use all the help we can get.”

“Well, we can’t.” Ellen spoke.

I sighed as I pulled away from Dean and sat up straight.

“But Ash will.”

The three of us looked at each other.

“Who’s Ash?”

“Ash!”

The man on the pool table jerked awake and sat up, squirming around.

“What? Closing time?”

“That’s Ash?” Sam pointed.

“Mm-hmm.” Jo nodded. “He’s a genius.”

***

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Dean scowled. “This guy’s no genius. He’s a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.”

“I like you.” Ash grinned as I handed him the brown folder we had brought.

Dean gave a small grin. “Thanks.”

“Just give him a chance.” Jo handed each of the boys a drink and turned to me. “What do you want, baby?”

I smiled. “Do you have orange juice?”

She grinned. “Coming right up.”

I decided I liked her. She was Everett, but way nicer.

“Alright.” Dean sighed and sat down next to me, leaving me stuck between him and Sam. “This stuff’s about a year’s worth of our dad’s work, so uh, let’s see what you make of it.”

Ash shuffled through the papers and shook his head. “Come on. This crap ain’t real. There ain’t nobody can track a demon like this.”

Dean turned and locked eyes with Sam. They both looked annoyed.

“Our dad could.” I piped up.

“These are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations, I mean… damn! Uh, they’re signs. Omens. If you can track em, you can track this demon. Ya know, like crop failures, electrical storms. You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun.” Ash huffed.

“Can you track it or not?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, with this, I think so. But it’s gonna take time. Uh, give me… fifty one hours.”

He got up and began to walk off. Dean looked at me, and I giggled, teeth stuck between my lips.

“Hey, man?” Dean scratched his eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

“I uh, I dig the haircut.”

“All business up front, party in the back.” Ash winked before leaving.

Jo walked by, swinging her hips and eyes on Dean. He checked her out, eyes tired. I leaned against him with a groan.

Don’t go. I need you, don’t go.

“Hey, Ellen? What is that?” Sam pointed to something behind the bar.

“It’s a police scanner. We keep tabs on things, we-”

“No. No, um, the folder.” Sam pointed.

Dean pushed me into Sam’s side and walked off, following Jo.

“Oh, uh. I was gonna give this to a friend of mine.” Ellen took the folder and placed it in front of Sam. “But take a look if you want.”

COUPLE MURDERED

CHILD LEFT ALIVE

MEDFORD, WISCONSIN

Sam flipped through the newspaper clippings and sighed.

“Dean, come here. Check this out.”

“Yeah?” Dean stood and stretched.

“A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, we should check it out.” Sam gave him a bitchface.

***

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?” Dean looked at Sam, then glanced at me in the rearview.

“Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually.”

“And the family was at some carnival that night?”

“Yeah, uh, the Cooper Carnivals.”

“So how do you know we’re not dealing with some psycho in a clown suit?” Dean asked.

“Cops have no leads. All the employees were tearing down shop, alibis all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course.”

“Well, I know what you’re thinking, Sam. Why clowns?”

“Oh, give me a break.” Sam groaned.

Dean laughed. “You didn’t think we’d remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still bust out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television!”

“Well, at least I’m not afraid of flying!”

“Planes crash!”

“And apparently clowns kill!”

“Hey!” I shouted. “Both of you quit it. It’s enough that I’m stuck in the backseat of a mini van like some sort of damn kid, talking about killer fucking clowns. Stop fighting.”

They sighed.

“So. These types of murders, they ever happen before?”

“According to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus. Same MO. Happened three times, three different places.”

“That’s weird. I mean if it’s a spirit, it’s usually bound to a specific locale. You know, a house, or a town.”

“So how’s this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?”

“Cursed object, maybe? Spirit attaches itself to something and the carnival carries it around with them.”

“Great.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s a fucking paranormal scavenger hunt.”

“Well, this case was Sam’s idea, complain to him.”

Nobody said anything.

“Come on, Sam. You were awfully quick to jump on this job.”

“So?”

“It’s just… not like you, that’s all. I thought you were all hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt.”

“I don’t know, I just… I think this job, it’s what Dad would’ve wanted us to do.”

“What Dad would’ve wanted?” Dean repeated.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “So?”

“Nothing.”

I sighed as we pulled up to the carnival. There were detectives talking to a few of the carnies. We climbed out of the van in silence.

“Check it out.” Dean nudged me. “Five-oh. Stay with Sam.”

***

Sam stood by my side with his hands in his pockets as a three-foot-tall woman in a clown outfit passed by us. He stared at her nervously and she stared back.

“Did you get her number?” Dean grinned as he came back.

Sam scowled. “More murders?”

“Two more last night. Apparently, they were ripped to shreds. And they had a little boy with them.”

“Who fingered a clown.”

Dean gave Sam a weird look, and Sam sighed.

“What?”

“Yeah, a clown, who apparently vanished into thin air.”

“Boys.” I sighed. “Looking for a cursed object in a whole ass carnival is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. It could be anything.”

“Well it’s bound to give off EMF. We’ll just have to scan everything.”

“Oh. Good.” Sam sighed. “That’s nice and inconspicuous.”

I tilted my head as I noticed a “Help Wanted” sign. I nudged Dean’s side and nodded toward it.

“I guess we’ll just have to blend in.”

***

“Excuse me, we’re looking for a Mr. Cooper.” Dean called out.

The man was throwing knives at a target. They all landed near the bulls-eye.

“Have you seen him around?”

“What is that, some kind of joke?” The man turned around with a snarl.

He pulled his sunglasses off. He was blind.

“Oh. God, I’m so sorry.” Dean’s eyes went wide as he realized.

I scratched the back of my neck and shuffled into Sam’s side. This place was giving me all the bad vibes, and as much as I wanted to fist fight my brothers, staying close was my best bet for now.

“You think I wouldn’t give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?” The man shot.

Dean eyed me. I ducked into Sam’s chest, and he huffed. “Wanna give me a little help here?”

“Not really.”

Someone else walked in. “Hey man, is there a problem?”

“Yeah, this guy hates blind people.” The old man spat.

I peeked out to see a very short man in a red cape. I glanced at Dean.

“No, I don’t, I-”

“Hey, buddy, what’s your problem?”

“Nothing, it’s just a little misunderstanding.” Dean tried to defend himself.

“Little? You son of a bitch!”

“No, no, no, no!”

“Could somebody just tell us where Mr. Cooper is? Please?” I spoke up, arms wrapped around Sam’s waist.

***

“You kids picked up a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat.”

There were only two chairs. One was normal, and the other was pink with a huge clown’s face on it. Dean grinned and I rolled my eyes as I beat him to the normal chair. Sam sighed. Dean glared at me and I smiled softly before turning to Sam.

“Wanna sit?”

He took the normal chair with a smile. “Thanks, Ol.”

Dean dropped into the clown chair with a scowl my way. I sat on the arm of his chair and he continued to scowl as his hand came to my back to keep me steady.

“We’ve got all kinds of local trouble.” Mr. Cooper sighed.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first. So, you three ever worked the circuit before?”

“Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas.”

“Yeah.” Dean mumbled in agreement.

“Doing what? Ride jockeys? Butcher? A and S Men?”

Dean fumbled, and Sam shrugged.

“Yeah, uh, a little bit of everything, I guess.”

Mr. Cooper eyed us and sighed. “You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?”

Sam and I looked at each other, and Dean smiled.

“Nope. But we really need the work. Oh, and uh, Sam here’s got a thing for the bearded lady.” Dean teased.

I elbowed him and he cleared his throat. Sam scowled.

“You see that picture?” Mr. Cooper pointed to a picture hung above him. “That was my daddy.”

“You look just like him.” Sam smiled.

“He was in the business. Ran a freakshow. Til they outlawed them, most places. Apparently displaying the deformed isn’t dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums.” He shrugged. “That’s progress. I guess.”

Dean winced and Sam gave a sympathetic smile. I leaned an arm on Dean’s shoulder and looked at the ground.

“You see, this place, it’s a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don’t fit in nowhere else. But you three? You should go to school. Find a couple of girls and a guy. Have two point five kids. Live regular.”

I glanced at Sam. That was exactly what he had always wanted. Dean opened his mouth, but Sam leaned forward, eyes serious. I inched closer to Dean.

“Sir. We don’t want to go to school. And we don’t want regular. We want this.”

Dean and I shared a glance before turning to look at Sam.

***

Dean hummed to get Sam’s attention, but it didn’t work. I sighed and grabbed his sleeve. He stopped walking and turned to face me.

“What?”

“Sams, that whole uh… don’t wanna go to school thing. Were you just… saying that or… were you… ya know, saying it?”

Sam remained silent.

“Sammy?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

He started walking again, and Dean and I huffed as we followed.

“You don’t know?” Dean repeated. “I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State.”

“I’m having second thoughts.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I think… I think Dad would’ve wanted me to stick with the job.”

“Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted, Sam?” Dean snorted. “You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn’t want.”

“Since he died, okay?” Sam stopped walking again. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Nah.” Dean shook his head. “I don’t have a problem at all.”

I rolled my eyes and Dean turned to me. “Ollie? Problem?”

I shook my head. “No, this is fucking stupendous.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Bite me.” I snarled back.

“What is your issue lately? You’ve been snappy for no reason.”

“Dad is dead. That’s my reason, okay?”

“Olive-”

“Look, we don’t have time for this. Let’s just go.”

***

“Sammy?”

“Hey, Bug.”

“What’s up?” I held the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I changed a trash bag.

“Uh, so I saw a skeleton and it got me thinking.”

“Like… a real… live human skeleton?”

“Yeah, in the funhouse.”

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah, listen, I was thinking. What if the spirit isn’t attached to a cursed object? What if it’s attached to its own remains?”

“Well did the bones give off EMF?”

“No, but I think we should check it out anyways.”

“Okay. Do you wanna call Dean or should I?”

“You call him. I’m heading to you.”

“Okay. Love you, Sams.”

“I love you too, jelly bean.”

I hung up before he could. I moved to the next batch of trash cans and dialed Dean’s number.

“Baby?”

“Hi, freckles.”

“What’s up, kid?”

“Sams found a skeleton. He thinks we should check it out.”

“EMF?”

“No, but we should still check it out. He’s heading our way.”

“Alright. Thanks for the heads up. Love you.”

I smiled. “I love you too, Deano.”

***

“Dean!” I jumped up from the ground. “What took you so long?”

“It’s a long story.” Dean groaned.

“Mommy, look at the clown!” A little girl shouted.

The three of us turned. There was a clown waving at her. I shivered, stumbling back into my brothers. Sam and Dean caught me as my footing slipped and I went down.

“What clown?” The mom asked.

“What’s she talking about?” Dean asked.

“You don’t see that?” I glanced up at Dean, and then back.

The clown was gone.

“Olive?”

“Holy fuck. Come on, we’ve gotta follow them. This thing’s gonna come after them next.”

***

“Dude, I cannot believe you told freaking Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown.” Sam scoffed.

Dean shrugged. “I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. Never said it was real.”

I giggled, and Sam rolled his eyes with a smile. Dean whipped out a gun and cocked it. Sam rushed to dive over my lap and push Dean’s hand down.

“Keep that down!”

“Oh, and get this! I mentioned the Bunker Brothers’ Circus in ‘81, and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse. Guess what?”

“What?”

“Before Cooper owned Cooper Carnivals, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager.”

I sighed. “Think Cooper brought whatever the spirit is attached to?”

He shrugged again. “Maybe, something like that.” He shook his head with a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe we’re talking about fucking clowns.”

***

“Bug. Bug, wake up.” Sam whispered.

I squirmed in his lap. “What?”

“I think the clown’s here. The little girl’s at the door, but…”

I turned to see the clown standing at the front door. I rolled off of Sam’s lap and knocked my head into Dean’s arm.

“What?” He groaned.

“Get up, bubba. Fucking clown’s here.”

Dean sat up straight and groaned. “Shit. Fuck, come on.”

***

Dean made a motion at me and I nodded. The little girl was leading the clown down the hall. Sam and Dean both had their shotguns ready. I ran my tongue over my fangs and kept my mouth shut as I bounced up and down. They couldn’t see the clown, and it was riding on me.

“Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They’re upstairs!”

The girl walked right through the dark. I took a breath before reaching out and snatching her off her feet. She began to scream bloody murder, and I flinched, feeling blood begin to trickle from my ears.

“De, in front of you!” I pointed.

She kicked and cried as Dean shot the clown in the chest. I ducked as the clown lept past us and out the window. It was out of sight as the parents came running out.

“What’s going on here!”

“Oh my god, what are you doing to my daughter!”

“Who the hell are you! Get out! Get out of my house!”

I dropped the girl onto her feet and made a run for it. Sam and Dean followed, scrambling across the hardwood floor.

***

“Do you really think they saw our plates?” Sam sighed.

I shrugged as Dean huffed.

“I don’t wanna take the chance. Besides, I hate this stupid van anyways.”

I zipped up the bag as Dean shoved the plates in it. I slung it over my shoulder with a heavy sigh. Dean wrapped an arm around my shoulders and sighed as we began to walk down the road.

“Well, one thing’s for sure.”

“What?” I looked up.

“We’re not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid.”

“Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?” Sam offered, rubbing the back of his neck.

I snorted. “And dresses up like a clown just for shits and giggles?”

“I dunno, jelly bean.” He sighed.

“Did it say anything in Dad’s journal?” Dean looked up at Sam.

“Nope.” Sam cleared his throat before pulling out his phone.

“Who’re you calling, bubs?”

“Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash’ll know something. Hey, you think, uh… you guys think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?”

“No way.” Dean shook his head.

I sighed. “Then why didn’t he tell us about her?”

“I dunno, guys. Maybe they had some sort of falling out?”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?”

Dean nodded without a word, and Sam lowered his phone with a sigh.

“Well, don’t get all maudlin on me, dude.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“He just means that strong and silent isn’t your type, freckles.”

“Oh, god.” Dean groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I’m over it, man. This isn’t just anyone we’re talking about, this is Dad. We both know how you felt about the man.”

Dean stopped walking and I immediately withdrew, shrinking into myself.

“You know what? Back off, alright? Just because I’m not caring and sharing like you frigging want me to.”

“No, no, no. That’s not what this is about, Dean. I don’t care how you deal with this. Olive might, but I don’t. But you do have to deal with it. Listen, I’m your brother, alright? I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Dude, I’m okay!” Dean shouted. “I’m okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks if I’m okay, I’m gonna start throwing punches! These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!”

“What the hell are you talking about, Dean?”

“I just think it’s real interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad! It’s like, oh, what would Dad want me to do?” Dean scowled. “Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man! I mean, hell, you, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever fucking saw him! And now he’s dead, you wanna make it right?” He shook his head. “Well, I’m sorry, Sam. But ya can’t. It’s too little, too late.”

Sam’s eyes filled with tears and I looked away, feeling my nose burn and breath falter.

“Why are you saying this to me?”

“Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this, Sam. I’m dealing with Dad’s death! Are you?”

Sam swallowed and shook his head. “I’m going to call Ellen.”

He walked off and I stumbled away from Dean with a sob.

“Ollie?” He reached for me.

I yanked myself away and let out another cry. The duffel bag fell at my feet, and Dean picked it up, keeping his eyes on me.

“Olive, talk to me.”

“Honey? Hey, jelly bean, what’s wrong?” Sam instantly turned back around.

I shook my head and wiped at my cheeks. “Y-you guys have been so caught up in dealing with Dad’s death, a-a-an-and with fighting with each other! I get you guys are hurting. I get it, I do. You guys lost Dad.” I sighed, wiping my nose with my sleeve.

“Ol-”

“I’m not done, Dean.” I hissed. “You’re both hurting. And that’s okay. But I lost him too. I lost him, and I almost lost both of you. You guys have been so focused on your own grief that you haven’t noticed that I need you!”

“Olive…”

I shook my head. “Never mind. This was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Olive-”

“Just go call Ellen, Sam.”

He tucked his phone back into his pocket and grabbed me by the wrists. “Hey.”

I looked the other way, tears running down my face.

“Hey.” He pulled gently on my wrists, forcing me to stumble into him.

“Olive. My sweet girl.” Dean brushed my hair behind my ear.

“Leave me alone.” I whined.

“No.” Sam grabbed me by the waist and hauled me into his grip.

I squirmed. “Leave me alone!”

“Bug.”

I let out a strangled cry and hit Sam’s chest. “Let me go!”

“Pumpkin.”

I sobbed again, dropping my head into Sam’s neck. He rubbed circles into my back and leaned his head against mine.

“It’s okay. Let it out, cookie. It’s alright.”

“Olive. You should’ve said something.” Dean’s voice was gentle.

I felt myself physically deflate, further falling into Sam’s hold.

“I just miss him.” I whispered. “I miss when it was the four of us.”

“We know, bug. It’s okay.” Sam pressed a kiss to the side of my head.

“Okay. Come here. I’ll take Ol, Sam, you can call Ellen.”

I whimpered as Dean pulled me from Sam. I snuggled into Dean easier than I had Sam, finding the groove of his shoulder where my head fit perfectly.

“I’m sorry, princess.” He pressed a kiss to my head. “You should’ve said something. You’re right, we haven’t been the best of brothers.”

I nodded as I relaxed into him. “You’re right. I should’ve. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. We’re here now. Whatever you need. I promise.” He started walking, following Sam down the road.

“I love you.” I whispered, letting my eyes fall shut.

“Hey. Ellen thinks she knows what this thing is.”

I opened my eyes again. Sam winked at me and ran a hand up and down my back. I sniffled.

“What is it?”

“Rakshasa.”

Dean’s face scrunched up.

“What’s that?”

“Race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited. Oh, and get this. They can make themselves invisible, and they can make it so only kids can see them.”

I snorted. “Well that explains why you guys couldn’t.”

“So they dress up like clowns, and the kids invite them in.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

Dean’s arms tightened around me. “Why don’t they just munch on the kids?”

Sam shrugged. “No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?” He offered, and I squirmed, grossed out.

“What else’d you find out?” I squirmed again, this time until Dean put me down.

“Apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor.”

“Ew.” I made a subtle beeline for Sam’s side as we walked, bumping into him full force.

He caught me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Yeah. They sleep on a bed of dead insects.”

“Ew!” I shuddered, huddling into Sam’s side.

Dean giggled. “Remember that case with the bugs?”

“Oh god.” Sam groaned. “Don’t ever remind me again. I still find dead beetles in my clothes sometimes.”

“Alright, what else?”

“They have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism, I guess.”

I hummed. “Makes sense. Carnival today, Bunker Brothers in ‘81.”

“Right. Probably more before that.” Sam nodded, playing with my hair.

“Hey, kids.” Dean mused.

I looked up and smiled, teary eyed. It had been a while since he called us that.

“Who do we know that worked both shows?”

I tilted my head, stumped. I looked up at Sam, and he had an identical expression on his face.

“Cooper.” Dean gave us the answer.

“Oh my god, Cooper.” It clicked.

“You know, that picture of his dad, it looked just like him.” Sam shrugged.

“Maybe it was him.”

“Well, who knows how old the fucker is?”

“Alright.” Dean clapped his hands. “Ellen say how to kill him?”

“Legend goes, dagger made of pure brass.”

A grin grew on Dean’s face, and I smiled.

“I think I know where to get one of those.”

“I mean… we should probably make sure…”

“Yeah, Olive’s right. Before we go stabbing things into him, we’re gonna wanna make damn sure it’s him.”

“Oh, you’re such a stickler for details, Sammy.”

Sam chuckled as Dean grinned. I looked between the two and let out a breath. This was closer to normal. It felt nice.

“Alright. I’ll round up the blade, you go check if Cooper’s got bedbugs.” Dean stuck a finger in my ribs and I squealed, jumping away.

Sam stumbled to stop so he wouldn’t run me over. Dean tried to chase after me, but Sam picked me up in a single swoop. I squealed again as I was placed on his hip. He gave us both his classic bitchface and rolled his eyes, but I could see the hints of a smile.

“You’re both such children.”

I poked his cheek with a huge smile. “But you love us!”

He only rolled his eyes again, this time smiling.

***

“Still wish you would’ve let me go with Sam.” I whispered to Dean.

He nudged me and made a face.

Shut up, he can hear you.

I sighed as the blind man led us through his tent. I was with Dean, because if Cooper happened to be the clown-fuck, and he caught Sam, I was safer with Dean.

“Well, I’ve got all kinds of knives. I don’t know if I’ve got a brass one, though.” He tapped a trunk with his cane. “Check in there.”

I knelt by Dean’s side as he popped open the trunk.

“Shit.”

A red clown wig. The red clown wig.

“Dean.” My hand went to his arm and squeezed.

He stood up, pushing me behind him. “You?”

“Me.”

The blind man dropped his cane and yanked his glasses off. His eyes looked normal. He gave a grin as his eyes began to get cloudy, and his face began to melt.

“Dean!”

“Stay behind me.” He ordered as we moved toward the door.

He pulled a gun out of his waistband as I struggled with the door. It wouldn’t budge. A knife flew past us, burying itself in the door, right by my head. Dean cursed, standing with his legs apart and his shoulders wide. Another knife came, this time closer. I growled as my teeth broke loose, and I forced the door open.

We booked it, tumbling down the stairs. I rolled over and pushed myself back onto my feet. I looked over my shoulder to make sure Dean was following as we ran.

“Hey!”

I whipped around to see Sam. I skidded to a stop and changed directions. I barreled straight into him, hiding my face in his shirt. He caught me, stumbling backwards.

“Hey. Hey, baby girl, what happened?”

I shook my head, trying to calm back down.

“Hey, so Cooper thinks I’m a Peeping Tom, but it’s not him.” Sam kept his arms around me as Dean ran toward us.

“Yeah, so I gathered.” Dean huffed.

“It’s the blind guy.” I looked up at Sam, mouth bloody.

“Oh fuck.”

“He’s here somewhere.” Dean looked around, panting.

“Well, did you guys get the-”

“The brass blades?” Dean scowled. “No. No, it’s just been one of those days.”

“Alright.” Sam sighed. “I’ve got an idea. Come on.” He started running. “Is he invisible invisible or like Olive-can-see-him-invisible?”

“Invisible invisible!”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Ollie, you’re with me.” He stopped running as we reached the funhouse. “Come on.” He held a hand out for me.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” I squeezed his hand. “Come on.”

Sam led the way, Dean on our heels. I shuddered as we entered the mirror maze. A door slammed shut behind us.

“Dean!”

“Sam! Olive!”

“Sammy, what do we do?” I looked up.

He slammed at the door, and we could hear Dean doing the same.

“Hold on, Ol.” Sam hit it again.

I sighed and looked around. “Sams, we don’t have time for this.” I pushed him aside and put my mouth up to the door. “Dean! Dean, bubba! Find the mirror maze, okay?”

“Got it!”

There was a low growl, and I took a deep breath. It growled again. I growled back. Sam elbowed me and motioned for me to follow.

“What’s the plan?” I asked as he began to walk.

“This.” He stopped at an organ.

The pipes were giving off steam. Sam reached out, but yanked his hand back with a groan. They were too hot. He looked around, trying to think. I gritted my teeth and wrapped my fingers around the pipe, pulling it out. My skin was sizzling, and I felt tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Hey!” Dean’s voice reached my ears.

“Jesus, give!” Sam ordered, snatching the pipe from my hands with the protection of his jacket.

“Hey, lemme see.” Dean grabbed my hands and looked at my palms.

They were blistered and burnt. He blew on them softly and I flinched as they began to heal, leaving my skin pink.

“Where is it?”

I shook my head, and Sam answered. “We don’t know.”

“Shouldn’t we be able to see its clothes walking around or something?”

I felt a wet thud in my chest and flinched. Dean’s eyes grew wide as he stared at me. I looked down to see a knife embedded by my heart. My knees got wobbly, and I went down. Dean caught me in his arms.

“Olive?” He begged.

“De…” I whimpered.

“Olive!”

Another knife came, snagging Dean’s shoulder. He groaned and Sam’s head whipped around as he searched. I looked up at the ceiling, spotting a lever for the steam.

“De…”

“What is it, baby girl?”

I nodded up toward the ceiling. “It’ll help.”

It took him a second before he realized what I meant. He gently put me on the floor and pushed himself to his feet with a groan. He stretched and pulled the lever down. I let my head roll back. I watched as the steam got stronger, giving the Rakshasa a vague shape.

“Sammy…” I muttered. “Sammy, behind you.”

“Behind you!”

Sam stabbed the pipe behind him without a second glance. I sighed as I saw blood trickling onto the ground. Dean turned the steam back off, and we saw a pile of empty clothes and a bloody pipe.

“I fuckin hate funhouses.” Dean hissed.

“De.” I called, sniffling.

“I’m right here.” He crouched by my side and held me up. “Hey, look. You’re gonna be okay.” He whispered, then looked up at Sam. “Sammy’s gonna hold you while I get this knife out. Okay?”

I let out a whimper as he sat me up. Sam grabbed me and glared at Dean.

“Dean. We don’t know if she’ll heal that fast.”

“She will.”

“De-”

“Just trust me. She will.” Dean ran his thumb across my cheek before putting a hand on my shoulder, ready to grab the knife.

“Dean?” I whimpered. “What if I don’t heal?”

“Baby girl. Remember that time in Minnesota, where you cut real bad into your wrists?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“You healed then, right?”

I nodded again, leaning back into Sam.

“You’ll heal now.”

I closed my eyes.

“I promise.”

He yanked the knife out and I jerked forward with a growl, teeth bared. Sam kept me in place and Dean stumbled backward, dropping the knife with a gasp. I felt the gap in my chest begin to close up and sighed, immediately drained.

“We’ve got you, bug. Go to sleep.” Sam whispered into my hair.

I let my eyes roll into the back of my head and dropped back against him.

***

“You kids did a hell of a job. Your dad’d be proud.” Ellen placed two beers and a glass of orange juice down in front of us.

“Thanks.” Sam smiled softly, arm wrapped around me.

Jo swung over and sat by Dean’s other side. She gave Sam a look, and Sam smiled back. I nudged his side.

“Lesgo, Sammy.” I whispered.

“Oh yeah, um, I’ve gotta… uh, uh… I’ve gotta go. Over there. Right now.” He stumbled over his words and plucked me up by the hand.

“Let’s go, baby.”

“I’m sleepy, Sams.” I mumbled as he led me to the pool table.

“I know, I know. Come here, bug.” He picked me up and placed me on the pool table, standing by my side.

I leaned against him with a groan. My chest was healed, but it still ached to breathe, and I was gonna have a two inch scar for the rest of my life.

“Where ya guys been? Been waiting for ya.” Ash came through the back door.

“We were working a job, Ash. Clowns?” Sam grinned.

“Clowns? What the fuck?”

“Got something for us, Ash?” Dean spun around in his stool.

“Gather round, children.” Ash set what was presumably a laptop down on one of the tables.

I groaned again, and Sam laughed.

“Could you maybe bring it over here? Olive took a hit today.”

Ash nodded. “You okay, kid?”

I nodded, still leaning against Sam. “I’ll be alright. Did you find the demon?”

Ash sighed. “It’s nowhere around. At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises his head, I’ll know. I mean, I’m on it like Divine on dog dookie.”

Sam and I looked at each other.

What?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig’ll go off. Like a fire alarm.”

Dean reached for the laptop, which had exposed wiring. “Do you mind?”

Ash gave him a face, and Dean pulled back.

“What’s up, man?”

“Ash, where did you learn to do all this?” I eyed the laptop.

“M.I.T. before I got bounced for fighting…”

“M.I.T.?” Sam’s eyes went wide.

“It’s a school in Boston.”

Sam smiled and I giggled.

“Okay. Give us a call as soon as you know something?”

“Si, si, compadre.” Ash grinned at Dean.

Dean smiled back before taking a long swig of his beer and placing it back down. Ash eyed it and then took it for himself. Sam helped me shimmy off the table and onto my feet. I sniffed as I moved over to Dean and leaned into his side. He wrapped an arm around me as we headed for the door.

“Hey, listen… if you kids need a place to stay, I’ve got a couple beds out back.”

Dean smiled at Ellen’s offer. “Thanks… but no. There’s something I’ve gotta finish.”

She nodded. “Okay. Be safe.”

“Thanks, Ellen. See ya.” I waved as my brothers pulled me out the door.

***

Dean is working on his car, and Sam is pacing back and forth near him. Olive is in the house, sitting in an open window on the first floor. She can see and hear her brothers, but they haven’t noticed her yet.

“You were right.” Sam states.

Dean gets up and huffs. “About what?”

“About me and Dad.” Sam fiddles with his hands. “I’m sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight.” He scratches his ear. “I’m sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him.”

Dean’s jaw clenches, and Olive sighs silently from her spot.

“So you’re right. What I’m doing right now, it’s too little. Too late.”

His lip trembles, and the world is silent. Olive’s heart breaks, Sam’s guilt grows, and Dean’s silent demeanor becomes more and more solid.

“I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I’m not alright. Not at all.” He sniffs, tears forming in his eyes. “But neither are you. That much I know.”

There’s a long pause, and Olive watches through tears. Dean says nothing, and Sam nods.

“I’ll let you get back to work.”

Sam walks off, and Dean stands, still. His face is set in anger. He slowly makes his way to a car next to Baby and picks up a crowbar. Olive tenses.

He smashes the car’s window out, and Olive sighs. But then he sets his eyes on Baby.

It wasn’t enough.

He slams the crowbar into the trunk of their car, over, and over, and over. He grunts each time, getting angrier and angrier, and angrier.

He stops once there’s a hole in the metal. The crowbar slips from his hands and clatters to the ground. Tears fill his eyes as he looks after where Sam has gone. His lip trembles as he swallows, hard. Jinx lets out a howl from her spot in the shade.

Olive can’t take it. She slides out of the windowsill and lands on the ground. She runs across the dirt and gravel, tears flowing down her cheeks. Dean sees her coming and instantly turns her way, arms open. He catches her as she flings herself into his arms, sobbing.

She wants her family back.

Dean slowly takes them to the ground, cradling her as he leans back against the car.

“Dean…”

He sighs. “I know, baby. I know.”

Previous Ep: In My Time of Dying (2.01)

Next Ep: Bloodlust (2.03)

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eilonwiiy · 5 years

Text

Bookends ; A Witchlands AU

Chapter 6

Iseult and Aeduan cross paths and test the limits of social anxiety...

Summary: Iseult det Midenzi never expected to go to a top university, so when her mother falls ill and she is forced to drop out to make ends meet, life has never seemed so unfair. But when she starts working at the local library and is unexpectedly assigned in the Children’s Room, a certain monosyllabic man and his thrice-damned demon child start showing up and Iseult begins to wonder if the threads of fate have a plan for her after all.

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Ships: Iseult/Aeduan, Safi/Merik, and more… stay tuned!

Tags: modern AU, college setting, family, friendship, humor, fluff, slow-burn, romance, eventual smut

Read on AO3: here

Tag list: (please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @lseultdetmidenzi @twilightlegacy13

* . * . * . * .

4 days had passed and still Evrane had not called.

Friday afternoon found Aeduan parked outside Cora and Lisbet’s school in his car, fingers drumming restlessly across the steering wheel. His phone was stashed away in his pocket, practically burning a hole through his pants for all its temptation. Twice he had almost ripped the damn thing out and made the call to Evrane. Twice he’d thought better of it.

She said she’d call him with her schedule. He wasn’t about to waste his time hunting her down.

A disgruntled noise from the backseat made Aeduan look over his shoulder.

Owl blinked sleepily at him from her car seat, bottom lip puffed out and pouty. She looked more like a puffy pink marshmallow crammed into a much too small space, the shiny nylon material of her winter coat spilling out from underneath the tightly drawn straps holding her hostage. She hated the contraption almost as much as Aeduan. He had taken down 400 lb men high on coke in less time than it took him to wrangle Owl into the damn thing. At least now she didn’t kick and scream.

“Not much longer,” Aeduan told her, checking at the clock on the dashboard.

They’d fallen into a comfortable routine on the weekends. On Friday afternoons, Aeduan, along with Owl, would drive up to Ponzin and pick up the two sleepover bags Ragnor left for Aeduan on the porch of his childhood home. Then, they would head over to Lisbet and Cora’s school and camp out there until the bell rang.

Today had gone the same as usual, except Aeduan had added one extra pit stop along the way: Jitters.

Aeduan took a sip from his lukewarm coffee, watching the regular crossguard unpack his gear from his van. He hadn’t planned on going back to the coffee shop, especially after how irritating his experience with that inept barista had been. But from the moment he woke up, he found himself craving the coffee’s smooth, rich taste.

Fortunately, the girl wasn’t working. He’d been able to purchase his coffee and a muffin to split with Owl in peace.

Outside, the crossguard unfolded a flimsy collapsible chair by the crosswalk and settled down into it with his stop sign resting across his lap. He was an older man, with wispy white hair tucked underneath a faded red baseball cap and wore wire-rimmed glasses. The moment he relaxed in the chair, his head turned towards Aeduan’s parked car. He nodded in greeting and Aeduan nodded back. It was their thing.

Aeduan was so used to people avoiding him when he was in uniform that such a small, customary gesture was unnerving. He was still getting used to it. Sometimes he forgot he wasn’t wearing it anymore. Or carrying a gun. Not that he needed one to be scary. There were plenty of inmates who could testify to that.

The unmistakable sound of a bell announcing the end of the school day rang in the distance. Soon enough kids would be pouring out the doors. It would be some time before Lisbet and Cora would be out though. Aeduan knew by now that Lisebt liked to chat with her teachers after class, ask any one of the dozen follow-up questions she always had about the lesson or go over a problem she got wrong on the previous night’s homework. Aeduan loved that about her. And Cora would wait dutifully by the door until she was ready. He loved that too.

Aeduan continued to rap his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched the crossing guard guide the first and most eager to start their weekend group of kids across the street. Aeduan’s attention stayed with one boy about Cora’s age, around 6 or 7, who broke off from the group, hustling as fast as his little feet could take him. Waiting for him outside a car was a man, presumably his father, and when the boy got to him, he jumped into his arms, backpack and all. The man held him tight and pressed a kiss to his cheek before setting him down and ushering him into the backseat of his car while the kid started jabbering away.

His coffee was down to its very last dregs, but Aeduan took an absent sip from the cup anyway, staring hard at the dad tossing the kid’s backpack in the trunk and closing it shut, all the while the boy had his head poked outside the open window and was still talking animatedly as if he couldn’t wait the 5 seconds it would take for his dad to get into the car.

Aeduan remembered when Ragnor used to surprise him after school to pick him up in his patrol car. Such a spectacle. All the other kids would watch in envious fascination as Aeduan ran to the man in the intimidating uniform waiting by super cool sleek car with the silently flashing lights that he put on just for his son. They’d hover around the car, asking all sorts of questions and beg to hear the siren, to which the police officer would oblige to much cheering. Only when the young pretty school teacher caught up to the boy and slipped into the arms of the man to kiss him would the children scatter.

Aeduan never understood why Ragnor had pushed so hard for Cora and Lisbet to go to Covent Academy. He had stopped coming when Aeduan was ten.

Without much warning, Aeduan slapped his hand down on the steering wheel, and Owl, who had been close to falling asleep, jerked awake confused. Aeduan shook his head, furious with himself for what he was about to do, but he couldn’t stop himself. Something about seeing that little boy outside with his father flicked a switch in him, and he shifted jerkily in his seat to gain access to the phone in his back pocket. When he’d freed it, he didn’t give himself a second to think about it. He swiped open his phone and pressed call on his most recent contact.

“Hello,” a melodious voice said from the other end.

“Why haven’t you called me back?” Aeduan demanded.

There was a pause. “Aeduan. How... unexpected.”

“Unexpected?” Aeduan repeated in a barely controlled growl. “Have you already forgotten our agreement?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten.” The words were spoken slowly and calmly. There was no defensive edge to them. That only spurred Aeduan on.

“Then why haven’t you called? You said you would look over your schedule and get back to me.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Evrane mused lightly. The casual observation scraped over Aeduan’s tightly-wound nerves. “Well, now that you have me, why don’t you and Owl come in on Monday?”

“Monday,” Aeduan deadpanned. “That’s it? You don’t need to look over your schedule?” He expelled a bitter breath. “What, were you just waiting for me to call you?”

Silence answered him, and somehow Aeduan knew Evrane was smiling. He exhaled deeply.

“You were waiting for me to call you,” he said again, resigned to the truth. But his anger could only be kept at bay for so long, and with a surge of resentful understanding he bit out, “A test.”

“Aeduan,” Evrane said, his name sounding sad on her tongue. “If Owl is to be your child, she needs to be your priority. Always. You can’t wait around for others to cater to her needs. And you certainly can’t let your pride get in the way of doing what’s in her best interest. I didn’t mean for this to be a test. I- ” She cut herself off as though afraid to continue. Aeduan’s ears latched on to the silence hovering on the other end of the line, overly aware of his heart beating against his ribs. “I want to help Owl, Aeduan. But I can’t do that if you don’t trust me. Owl’s issues are now your issues. You’re just as much a part of this agreement as she is. I know this isn’t easy for you, but maybe… maybe it’s not so easy for me too. I never thought I’d get a second chance to help you.”

Aeduan shook his head, looking down at his lap, thankful that she couldn’t see him. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured. He recognized the irony in saying that possibly to the one person responsible for saving his life. Perhaps Evrane heard it too because she chuckled a second later, a watery sound that broke Aeduan’s heart.

“You’ve made it this far, haven’t you?”

Something that might have been laugh escaped Aeduan’s throat. “No thanks to you.”

There was that silent smile again. “Enjoy your weekend with the girls. I’ll see you and Owl on Monday.” And with that Evrane hung up.

Aeduan lifted his head and checked his rearview mirror; Owl was watching him curiously as though to ask if he was alright. He gave her a tired smile.

If Owl is to be your child…

If he was going to be a father. That’s what Evrane really had wanted to say. And she was right. About everything, of course. Aeduan wasn’t an idiot. He could be stubborn as all hell, be disagreeable to even the most patient of people, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew when he was in the right and he knew when he was in the wrong, and perhaps the worst thing worth knowing was that he had been wrong on all counts when it came to Evrane.

He’d have to try harder. For Owl. For his-

He couldn’t even say the word. She wasn’t his anything. Not yet.

The school lawn was littered with children now. After about ten more minutes, the front doors opened again and both Lisbet and Cora appeared. With a sharp pang of realization, Aeduan recognized Sister Nadya in the doorway behind them and watched as she waved goodbye to the girls. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her kind smile, discernible even from such a distance, and focused on the two dark-haired girls coming towards him, the smaller of the two rushing ahead of the taller, more subdued one. Aeduan undid his seatbelt and quickly checked that no other cars were driving by before opening the car door.

“Slow down, Cora,” he called as he walked around to the sidewalk. “It’s still icy.”

“The snow is almost all gone,” Cora huffed between pants, slowing down as she got closer to Aeduan. She was so small and the enormous backpack hanging from her shoulders looked almost comical.

“Still.” Aeduan knelt down on one knee as Cora skidded to a halt in front of him and threw herself into his arms. When she eventually pulled back, he perused her up and down. “Where’s your coat?

Cora jutted her thumb over her shoulder. “In my backpack.”

“Wouldn’t it be more useful on you?”

Cora shrugged. Lisbet came shuffling up behind her and Aeduan straightened up from the ground. She, at least, was wearing her coat.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her into his side with one arm, while his other hand became occupied with Cora’s little fingers. “How was school?”

“Good,” she said, and smiling shyly she added, “I got a 105 on my math test.” The statement wasn’t at all boastful or fishing for recognition. Even as she said it, her expression was small and subdued.

Cora gawped at Lisbet while Aeduan pulled her in closer. “How is that possible, Aedie? I thought 100 was the highest grade!”

“There was a bonus question,” Lisbet explained. “Sometimes teachers add them to give students a chance at extra points. Usually they’re harder than the rest of the test, but they can really help you out if you’ve messed up on other questions.”

Cora’s eyes widened. “And you got it right?”

“Yep,” Lisbet nodded and Cora let out another hushed Wow.

“Good work, Lis,” Aeduan congratulated, giving her shoulder an extra squeeze. Her gray eyes sparkled up at him as she gave in to a proud smile.

“Aedie,” Cora chirruped, tugging at his hand. “I wrote a book today!”

“You did?” he said, being sure to give her his full attention. “What’s it about?”

“It’s about a girl who becomes friends with a bird and he leads her on a magical quest and then they meet a troll who tries to kill them, but he’s not really a bad guy and is just really sad and then... ”

Cora was practically dancing circles around him with excitement as she prattled on and on about her story. “That sounds like quite a tale,” Aeduan finally managed to slip in when she eventually needed to take a breath. “Why don’t we read it tonight before bed? How’s that sound? But, c’mon, let’s get going. Owl’s waiting. You can tell me more about it on the way home.”

The girls nodded and handed Aeduan their backpacks to store in the trunk while they piled inside the car. Once Aeduan shut his car door and buckled up, he twisted his head over his shoulder to look at all three of his girls.

Owl sat in between Cora and Lisbet in the middle strapped into her car seat and looked utterly miserable. Her arms and legs sat limp in total defeat. Oh yes, an extra long nap was in order the second they got home.

His sisters liked Owl. There hadn’t been any misgivings on their end when he sat them down and explained to them what his hopeful plans for Owl were. He hadn’t expected anything different. He knew their hearts and knew they would accept her as a part of their family just as he had done with them 10 years ago.

Owl, on the other hand, had been less than thrilled about the two unexpected additions to her new family, and little had changed since then. It had become blatantly clear that it was not Owl who had to prove herself worthy of Cora and Lisbet’s love, but the other way around.

The girls never complained though, for which, Aeduan was grateful. Cora was sure to read to Owl her story the moment they got home (whether she was interested in hearing it or not) and Lisebt would no doubt help Aeduan make dinner and take care to do little things like chop up Owl’s food into smaller pieces and refill her sippy cup even if it wasn’t entirely empty yet.

“Everyone buckled up?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Cora, who had a tendency to put her belt strap behind her back.

“Yes,” they answered in unison. Owl’s scowl deepened. His angry puffy marshmallow.

“Alright then,” Aeduan said, turning to the steering wheel and starting the car. “Let’s hear more about this story, Cora.”

* . * . * . * .

“Thanks again for doing this. You have my unending gratitude.”

Ryber Fortiza stood at Iseult’s desk on Monday afternoon, a stack of books towering between them. A week had gone by since she started working in the Children’s Room and Ryber’s books had finally arrived.

“It was no trouble at all,” Iseult told her. “I’m just glad you were able to get enough copies in time. Eridysi Goechenka is still in high demand, if you can believe it.”

“Oh I believe it,” said Ryber. “She’s one of my favorite authors. I’ve read all her works. This,” she gestured proudly to the tower of books, “is my way of plaguing my obsession onto everyone else.”

Iseult eyed the top of the stack and the silver foiled words carved into the book’s worn cover. Sisters of Sight. She picked it up fondly.

“You picked a good one. They’re all good, but this is a classic.”

Ryber’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve read it then?”

Iseult nodded. “Only a dozen times.” Ryber smiled at that, and the sight of it, all teeth and no reservation, made Iseult feel more intrepid. “I’m actually in the process of trying to collect all of her published works. It’s kind of a mini project of mine. It’s hard though. Some of her more obscure books are out of print. Things written earlier in her career before she became well-known.”

Ryber heaved a sigh of dismay. “Why do they do that?”

Iseult knew who ‘they’ were. Publishers. She shook her head solemnly. “I don’t know. It breaks my heart… Words that will never see the light of day all because publishers don’t think there’s a market for it.”

“You would think that with her death they’d want to capitalize on that. Also, awful,” Ryber added with a disgusted grimace to Iseult. Iseult nodded in agreement.

“It’s a shame. I bet she has so much more to say, even though she’s not here...” Iseult trailed off. She sighed and returned Sisters of Sight on top of the stack of books. “The director of this library told me that she has a first edition of The Raider King buried somewhere in her attic. She said she’d bring it in when she found it.”

Ryber’s eyes, more grey than blue, widened. “Seriously? That’s insane!”

“I can text you if she ever finds it.”

“Yes, please! Jeez, why on earth would she keep it packed away in an attic?” Ryber looked positively baffled by Evrane’s life decisions. “I bet it’s worth a lot of money. Not that I would ever sell it if it were mine,” she added hastily, as though reading Iseult’s mind. Even now, with her funds dwindling by the day, she’d never be able to part with such a treasure.

“I’ll let you know,” Iseult assured her as Ryber pulled the mountain of books across the desk and strategically lifted them into her arms. The tower wobbled precariously against her chest. “You’re not walking home with that, are you?” she asked cautiously as Ryber braced the top of the stack with her chin.

“Nope,” she replied with a shaky laugh and she tried to take a step without causing the books to come tumbling down. “My boyfriend is picking me up.”

“Good.” Even though Ryber looked ridiculous, Iseult’s cool expression never wavered. Safi would be rolling around on the floor by now. When Ryber was halfway to the door, she tried looking over her shoulder back at Iseult, but with a glance at the books in her arms, thought better of it.

“You’re going to come to book club, right?” she called softly so as to not disturb anyone else in the Children’s Room. “You and Safi?”

Iseult’s nose twitched and she pressed her lips together. She was glad Ryber wasn’t able to see her. “I don’t know. Safi isn’t much of a reader.”

“Oh don’t worry about that! Kullen always drags his roommate into our meetings since he lives there, and he almost always never reads the book. It’ll still be fun.”

“I- I’ll have to check my work schedule. Safi’s too.”

“Great,” Ryber said, sounding so genuinely pleased, Iseult felt terrible about the story already materializing in her head that she could use to get out it. “It’s on a Friday night, so at least there’s no classes to worry about. Unless you’re one of those weird people who elected to take a night class.”

“I’m not.” Guilt twisted into regret. Even without her made up story, she was already a liar. She’d have to tell Ryber eventually that she’d dropped out of school. If not now, then definitely before the book club. Better to come clean to one person about being a failure than to a whole room of strangers.

“Perfect.” By now Ryber had made it to the door. This time when she spoke, she managed to turn and face Iseult. The stack of books was still propped under her chin. “I forgot to ask, how’s everything going here?”

Iseult opened her mouth to answer, but just then, a figure appeared in the doorway, looming behind Ryber. Cropped dark hair, leather jacket, sparkling blue eyes.

Aeduan.

He marched around Ryber, barely giving her or the stack of books in her straining arms a second’s glance.

“Good,” Iseult somehow managed to respond after finding her breath. “Everything’s good here.”

That was about to change, judging by the dark gaze fixed on her as Aeduan stalked towards her, which was a shame because things really were going better than they had when she first started over a week ago. Her lungs contracted uncomfortably. He didn’t look happy.

Ryber seemed to understand that their conversation was over. Unable to wave or move her head, she shot Iseult a parting glance and strained smile, possibly hoping to convey something along the lines of, Good luck! Hope he doesn’t eat you for lunch!

When Aeduan reached the desk, he slapped an envelope down between them like he was throwing down a gauntlet.

“I’d like to get a library card.”

The words were as cold as his eyes. Not daring to risk stuttering in front of him, Iseult swallowed and reached for the envelope. She peeled open the slip of paper and pulled out its contents. There, in official typed writing, was an apartment lease for one Aeduan Amalej.

“Good enough?”

Iseult’s eyes slowly rolled up to meet his penetrating stare. Challenging her.

She nodded, still not trusting herself with words, folding the document with care and tucking it back into the envelope. When she held it out for him, she finally felt brave enough to speak.

“Perfect.”

Aeduan nodded sharply, though there was no sign of satisfaction in his face. A small dent still worried itself between his brow - possibly a permanent fixture on his otherwise smooth face.

Iseult gathered the necessary materials and laid them out in front of him, overly aware of him watching her, scrutinizing her every move. But her motions were fluid, poised, lending no indication to how she felt on the inside.

“I’ll need you to fill out this form with all of your up-to-date information,” Iseult explained. She was pleased, albeit surprised, with how commanding her voice sounded. “When you’re finished I’ll enter you into our database and have a card for you to sign. That’s all.”

Again, Aeduan nodded, his hard expression a slate of ice as he picked up the pen Iseult had laid out for him and got to work on filling out the form.

Iseult thought it unlikely that he’d appreciate her hovering, so she sat down at her computer and busied herself with starting his entry, all the while sneaking glances at him out of the corner of her eye. When he finished, he returned it to her without saying a word. In the minutes that followed, all that spoke between them was the clicking Iseult’s keyboard.

“Almost done,” Iseult hummed, more for her own reassurance than Aeduan’s. He still watched her like a hawk. She could feel the tremble in her hands. It was a miracle she wasn’t mis-typing everything.

With his last bit of information saved, she opened a drawer next to her and grabbed a stack of library cards. She slipped one out and scanned it into the computer. “I just need you to sign here,” she pointed to the line underneath the card’s barcode “and then you’ll be all set.”

Aeduan’s eyes rested a moment too long on the spot where Iseult’s finger pointed, and with a flicker of horror, she realized her nail was still covered in the ridiculous sparkly purple nail polish Safi had insisted on trying out on her a couple nights ago when they were both bored. Well - Iseult was bored. Safi was merely bored with studying and claimed it was stifling other more imaginative and wholly worthwhile endeavors. Safi’d even tried painting on a heart, which turned out to look more like a blob than anything.

“Just like yours!” she’d joked.

The clipped way he took the card from her sparkle encrusted fingers told Iseult exactly how he felt about her “blob”. She watched him scribble his signature, and she imagined how he’d react if she offered him the congratulatory glitter pencil and chunky animal eraser that was customary with all new patrons that signed up for a library card in the Children’s Room. Better skip the bubble party too.

Aeduan straightened, extending the pen to Iseult. She took it and with a weak sort of smile said as they did to all their new patrons: “Congratulations. You are an official owner of a library card.”

Aeduan frowned at the card, his expression unreadable. Oh yeah. Definitely skip the bubble party.

Still staring at the card, he began to walk away. Iseult was about to release a breath of relief when she remembered something.

“Sir, I almost forgot.” She held up a finger asking him to wait when he turned around. She didn’t miss the flash of annoyance in his eyes as she hurried into the back office, but it really would only take a second. When she reappeared, she was holding a book with a little black cat on the cover.

“I held onto this. In case you came back,” Iseult explained, holding the picture book out to him. “I remembered your little girl wanted it and thought I’d hold onto it so no one else would check it out. I wouldn’t have wanted her to be disappointed if you came back and it wasn’t here anymore. I know it’s a Halloween book and the chances of someone checking it out in January are slim, but you’d be surprised with how often holiday books get checked out throughout the year. They-”

Stop talking stop talking STOP TALKING. Iseult clamped her mouth shut. Where was her stutter when she needed it?

Aeduan was staring down at the book, frowning just as he had with the library card. He made no move to take it. Iseult swallowed.

“I-it’s yours if you want to take it,” she tried, pressing the book forward bravely.

Slowly, Aeduan reached a hand and took it.

“Thank you…” The words trailed off, and though he had already talked to Iseult before, he sounded as though he had not spoken in years. Or perhaps it was just the words. Rough and unused. He cleared his throat, then spoke again. “That’s… that’s very kind of you.”

Iseult only watched him studying the front cover of the book. She didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t angry, that much was clear. The only thing that was clear, really.

Aeduan turned away, still considering the book. Brow furrowed like he’d never seen anything like it.

“Sir,” Iseult called after him. He twisted around and though his face was as it always was, all of its hardness was gone. He looked almost in a daze as he blinked at her. Younger, somehow. She pointed apologetically to the book in his hands. “I need to check you out. Check the book out.”

Heat rushed to Iseult’s face faster than she could correct herself. Fuck, did she really just say that?

“Oh.” Aeduan looked down at the book, then back to her again. For a third time, he walked back to the desk and handed her the book.

“Thanks.” She scanned the book, his account already open from when she set up his card, and printed a due date receipt. “You’re all set,” she said, handing the book back to him, along with the slip. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No,” Aeduan said immediately. A little bit of the usual hard edge in his voice had returned. He tucked the book under his arm and turned away, and so Iseult did the same, thinking she should probably check on the the returns bin before it overflowed. It was afternoon and the place would soon be swarming with the after school kids. However, Iseult was only halfway to it when Aeduan’s voice pinned her to the spot.

“Actually-” Iseult turned halfway and looked over her shoulder only to find Aeduan marching back to her desk with all the conviction of a soldier about to head into battle, possibly to his impending death. Her spine straightened as though she were about to do the same. It certainly felt that way.

“I could use some help. I need...” Iseult watched the muscles in Aeduan’s face tighten as he fought for the right word. “A recommendation,” he finally said, then added, “If you have the time.”

It almost sounded like he was hoping she wouldn’t have the time. His pale eyes searched her face, and once again she was drawn into their frozen depths. She licked her lips and gave a little shake of her head. “I’m not too busy to help. That’s… that’s why I’m here.”

Aeduan nodded, that perfunctory little jerk of his head that he seemed to favor over words. Iseult walked around the desk to meet him, and for some reason this was very different from where she had just been.

He towered over her about a head and a half. This close she could smell the worn leather of his jacket and… something else. Something familiar. Whatever it was made her nose wiggle and her insides squirm.

Aeduan looked at her questioningly. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and looked out over the children’s room, pretending not to notice.

“What kind of book do you think you’re looking for?” she asked, then pointing to different shelving areas explained, “We have toddler board books and picture books by the play area. Nonfiction is by the computers and study tables. Then,” she indicated the shelves lined up in the middle of the room and hugging the walls, “we have early readers, middle grade, and young adult fiction. Anything older than that and you’ll have to go upstairs.”

Aeduan said nothing, surveying the room absently like he knew all this. Iseult watched him, thinking that he would eventually say something. But he didn’t.

“What reader age are you looking for?” she prompted patiently, tucking her hands behind her back.

Aeduan opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. The pulse in his jaw ticked. If a simple question such as that had irritated the man, then he was truly beyond Iseult. His eyes narrowed along the shelves of books.

Finally, he turned to look at her. “She’s young. Doesn’t read much.” He cast out the words like a challenge. As always, Iseult, dutifully, didn’t let the coldness stir an ounce of emotion on her face.

“Then perhaps another picture book,” she said, and feeling a sense of foreboding in burdening him with another question, she asked, “What does she like?”

Aeduan’s frown returned. Thinking. “Cats.”

“Cats,” repeated Iseult slowly. Well, it was a start at least.

“And animals,” Aeduan said with sudden conviction. “More than people.”

A burgeoning smile trembled along the seam of Iseult’s lips. It sounded like she and Aeduan’s mysterious little friend had something in common.

“I think I know exactly what she might like.”

With that, Iseult led Aeduan through the low-standing maze of shelves, weaving in and out of the way of any children they crossed paths with in the aisles, all the while Aeduan followed unquestioningly behind her, nodding and listening to her suggestions as she pulled book after book from the shelves and handed each one to him. By the time they’d walked away from the last row of the Z’s, he had a generous pile stacked in his arms.

“That should keep her occupied for awhile,” Iseult commented, making conversation as Aeduan inspected the selection. She wasn’t quite sure when, but somewhere along their little excursion, his demeanor had softened. He even looked through the books with something that might have been genuine satisfaction. Incredible.

“Would you like to check out?”

“I was thinking,” Aeduan grunted, then stopped - Iseult assumed from his slightly conflicted expression - for more thinking. He began again. “She might like it if I read her a book before bed. Like a chapter book.”

“With animals?”

Aeduan shrugged. “Maybe something with magic? I don’t think she’d object to dragons.”

“Oh.” The word floated out of Iseult like a feather on the wind. She swept past Aeduan, carried by her own timid excitement to the shelves along the wall. Vaguely, she felt him following her, but as always, he didn’t ask any questions. The tips of her fingers dusted over the rows of books as she traced the letters of the alphabet to where she needed to be, and when she pulled out a thin volume, she didn’t even realize - or care - that she was smiling.

“My Father’s Dragon,” she said, feeling strangely breathless, handing it to Aeduan. He remained impassive, but, inside, Iseult bubbled with the exhilaration that only comes from wielding the power of recommending an undeniably remarkable book. “It’s about a boy who runs away to rescue a baby dragon. And,” she tapped the lion on the cover, “there are plenty of animals.”

Aeduan studied it curiously, as usual, not saying anything. Iseult ducked down to the shelf below where she found the book.

“And since we’re in the G’s,” she murmured to herself, tracing a finger along the book spines, searching for Goechenka.

“Aeduan.”

Iseult straightened and peered around the side of Aeduan. Evrane was walking towards them, adorned in ocean blue and her silver bangles jingling on her wrists. Her eyes brightened when she spotted Iseult behind Aeduan. The little girl at her feet trailing behind her, however, eyed her warily.

“Ah, good! You two have met,” said Evrane, joining them. When she spotted the books in Aeduan’s arms, she tilted her head to the side and arched an eyebrow in intrigue. “That’s quite an ambitious collection you have there.”

Aeduan responded with something that could have been a grunt or a cough - whichever it was, it wasn’t words. Not sure why she felt the need to smooth it over, Iseult swooped in.

“Aeduan asked for help picking out some titles.” She glanced over at him as confirmation only to find herself pinned under an ice-blue glare.

“Did he really?” Evrane remarked with mild astonishment. She was looking at Aeduan bemusedly, arms folded across her chest. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Aeduan, looking considerably less happy than he had before Evrane showed up, ignored her and knelt down on one knee to the child’s level, placing the books on the ground next to him. His broad shoulders were all tension, but when he reached out to her, Iseult couldn’t believe it was the same person who had all but grunted at Evrane like a neanderthal.

“Owl,” he said, the word feather light on his lips. He didn’t quite smile, but his eyes, the same eyes that had frozen Iseult to the core only seconds ago, were awash with warmth. The girl, Owl, shuffled over to him and wedged herself on the inside of his bent leg and against his chest.

She did not look at the books.

Evrane turned to Iseult and with delicate politeness said, “Would you mind checking those out? I need a moment with Aeduan.”

“Of course.” Iseult hesitated, then bent down to collect the books next to Aeduan. Their eyes met for a flicker of a heartbeat, and in that moment, Iseult was hit with that kindle of warmth meant for Owl. With sparkling clarity, she wondered what it would be like to have someone look at her that way. To not only be the source of one’s warmth, but the flame as well.

Iseult quickly pulled away, as though burned, and made her escape with the books. At the desk she began scanning them and she stacked them neatly on top of each other, one after another until there were no more left. Fixing the corner of one of the books so it was perfectly aligned with the rest of the stack, Iseult kept her head bowed low and glanced over at the pair from under her bangs.

Even while Evrane spoke, Aeduan’s attention was entirely focused on Owl. She had to be his daughter, Iseult thought. Only a parent looks at a child that way. With that innate protectiveness. Like no one else existed.

Not that she’d know. She wouldn’t exactly describe Gretchya as maternal.

Iseult considered the pile in front of her and worried about whether or not she should rejoin the pair, only to have her internal debate interrupted by Hilga’s stern but not unkind voice.

“Iseult, what are you still doing here? Your shift ended 10 minutes ago.”

Iseult glanced at the clock. 2:10. Shit. When did that happen? She’d be late for her shift at Jitters if she didn’t leave soon, which would potentially make Safi late for class. Not that she’d care. She’d probably use it as an excuse to skip class altogether.

“I was busy helping a patron.”

“Well, I can take over from here,” Hilga said, bustling around the desk. “Are these books for them?”

“Yes. I already checked them out. He’s-”

But Hilga was already shoo-ing her away and Iseult knew better than to argue. She slipped into the back office and gathered her belongings, changed into her boots for the wet walk home, and pulled on her coat, scarf, and gloves. When she came back out, she stopped short in the doorway.

Aeduan was back at the desk and Hilga was nowhere to be found.

Aeduan’s entire body froze at her appearance.

“I thought you left,” he stated after an uncomfortable moment’s pause.

“I am,” Iseult replied, then quickly amended, “Leaving. Now.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Did you get your books?”

“We’re leaving too,” he said, not answering her question.

“Oh,” she said dumbly. “Well…” And with nothing left to say or do, she walked around from behind the desk, and with a hesitant pause at Aeduan and Owl by his side, she made her way to the exit. She could feel Aeduan at her heels, following her through the shelves, until they were out of the room and were able to walk side by side, Owl toddling between them, her hand firmly grasped in Aeduan’s.

It was a mistake. That much was clear the second they stepped out of the Children’s Room. From there they were able to walk side by side, but with Owl between them, both Iseult and Aeduan had no choice but to walk at her pace, making the journey through the library a longer and more torturous experience.

The building was already quiet, but next to Aeduan, the silence was deafening. No sooner had they left the Children’s Room, Iseult found herself wishing she had made up some excuse to hang back. A forgotten book, a phone left behind, anything to avoid this uncomfortable processional. Iseult didn’t trust herself to make something up now. For all her control over her emotions, she was a terrible liar, and Aeduan didn’t seem like the type to be convinced by a clumsy attempt at bullshitting.

Or maybe he was. He seemed pretty damn oblivious to the awkwardness of the situation at hand or the fact that he could speed this trip along and spare them both of this unnecessary pain by picking Owl up and carrying her the rest of the way.

In the end, Iseult had been a fool. For she did not know the true meaning of awkward until they were outside at the bottom of the library’s stone steps. They both came to a stop when they stepped down onto the sidewalk and for a moment they eyed each other through the falling snow.

“Well, I’m this way,” Iseult initiated, motioning her head over her shoulder.

Aeduan looked over her and nodded. “Alright.”

Iseult waited for him to say something similar, to tell her they were going the other way or - Moon Mother, save her - they were headed in the same direction as her. But that assertion never came. Instead, Aeduan simply stood there staring at her as though waiting for her to leave.

So she did. Without so much as a goodbye or a wave, she jerkily pivoted away and plodded through the slush, leaving Aeduan and Owl on the steps of the library. Ice seeped into her boots, but she was already numb with her own mortification. Each bone-cold step taking her further and further away from them and the library seemed to strengthen the tangle of confusion in her head, leaving only one lone thread of thought for her to pull at.

What in Noden’s saggy left trident was that?

#the witchlands #witchlands #baeseult #iseult det midenzi #aeudan #safiya fon hasstrel #owl #ryber fortiza #aeduan x iseult #truthwitch #bookends #my fics #mine

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dyde21 · 5 years

Text

Lone Wolf 2: The Confrontation

A continuation of the story inspired by @somethingmorecreative1 Since it got so much attention and I got some new followers I decided to pump out part two! I hope you enjoy it, it’s... intense. xD Fair warning, a bit of swearing and some more angst. Promise there will be plenty more fluffy sunshine in the future. But this plot starts dark. xD

XxXxXxXxX

Annabeth paced back and forth in her office. Her work was done, but her head was somewhere else. She kept replaying the scene from the previous day. Different words she could have said, different approaches she could have made when talking to that boy. Piper was right, that boy could only be described as desperate. Yet, he ran off. Annabeth couldn’t help but feel that if he died she was partially responsible. Maybe she could have done more to calm him down.

It wasn’t exactly uncommon for wolves without a pack to be a bit unbalanced. Their life was chaotic enough having a double life, and some part of their nature craved a pack. Living alone wasn’t good for their mental health nor their physical health.

She hoped he would seek them out, she had sent out some people to keep an eye for him, incase he did start looking. But her hopes weren’t high, he seemed stubborn, to say the least.

Still, she couldn’t get him out of her head. He reminded her of herself, when Thalia had first found her on the streets. She hadn’t been alone long, but it seemed like he had been.

A knock on her door snapped her back to reality as she beckoned them in.

Piper entered, looking as anxious as she felt as she took a seat in one of the seats of her office.

“Any word?” Annabeth asked, knowing the answer.

Piper shook her head. “No. He might have left.”

Annabeth nodded. “We tried.” She offered, but her voice didn’t even convince herself.

Piper just leaned forward, resting her head in her hands. “I don’t want him to get himself killed. He didn’t seem like a bad guy.”

Annabeth nodded, finally taking a seat of her own. “I… I know. But he ran, and I don’t think chasing him down would have helped.”

Nodding, Piper sighed. “You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help. For a moment though… I thought he was going to.”

The blonde sighed. “I thought so too. Something happened before to have him spooked. That’s all I can think of.” Looking over, she saw Piper not looking well. “Come on, let’s go get some food. I think we both need fresh air. If he turns up, we’ll be the first to know.”

Piper nodded, standing up. “You’re right.”

As they made their way down to the street, Annabeth’s phone rang. Fishing through her pocket she pulled it out quickly. “Hello?”

“Emergency in the forest.” It was Will’s voice, and he sounded panicked.

Freezing in place, Annabeth’s blood went cold. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

Piper tugged on her sleeve, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Some hunters went out to look for the “bear”. Apparently gunshots have been heard in the forest.”

“On it. Meet us there, Tell everyone else to stay back, I’m going with Piper.”

She ordered, hanging up and taking off at a sprint towards the forest. Piper was at her side, trying to figure out why her Alpha started sprinting down the street.

“Gunshots. In the forest. Hunters went out looking.”

Piper’s face contorted into horror.

They were both thinking the same thing, there was a good chance that someone is going to die. Either Percy could kill someone if backed into a corner, or he could be put down by hunters who don’t know better.

They had to move quickly, and small because attracting too much attention could backfire if it rallied more hunters.

The second they reached the cover of the trees they shifted and tore through the woods as wolves, looking for any scent of blood.

Annabeth could feel her pulse pounding as her eyes scanned everything, taking in every inch of detail she could manage. Before long Will had joined them, but they still weren’t having much luck with tracking down anyone.

Another gunshot echoed through the forest and Annabeth almost tripped over a root from shock.

Turning, they sprinted towards the sound. A few minutes later, and the scent of fresh blood hit their noses hard. Slowing slightly, Annabeth took the lead as they approached. At the sound of bushes rustling, they stopped and lowered themselves, ready to react to whoever emerged. Whatever it was was bleeding badly.

Just then Percy emerged, holding a hunting knife, looking wide eyed. He stumbled for a step, before he collapsed into the side of a tree.

Annabeth looked over him, and her heart skipped a beat. What was an old, slightly torn white shirt was stained a deep red, as he clutched his side. His face was pale and contorted in pain as he uselessly held out the small hunters knife in front of him as a threat.

“Stay back. I’ll kill you.” He warned, his voice cracking from pain during the threat.

He tried to take a step towards them, before he collapsed into a heap on the ground, curling up slightly as he held his side. Blood was pooling into the leaves around him, and Will let out a soft whine. Their doctor hated seeing people injured, threats or not.

Annabeth shifted back. “Don’t move.” She ordered her packmates as she stepped forward.

“You’ve been shot.” She stated plainly as she made her way towards Percy, hands up and in the open to show she wasn’t a threat. “Let us help you, or you’re going to die.”

Percy grunted, forcing himself to sit up.

“Stay away! I’ll be fine! I’ll heal! Just get the hell away from me!” He said, swinging the knife through the air between them.

“Stay away!” His voice cracked as tears threatened the corners of his eyes from pain.

His pitiful attempts at bravado cracked Annabeth’s heart in two. He was on the verge of death and so terrified it hurt to watch.

Carefully, Annabeth pressed on towards him. “Percy, I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not going to let you die here. Trust me.”

Percy glared at her. “Never! Stay away!”

Kneeling down, Annabeth continued to approach him.

In one last desperate plea, Percy stabbed out with the knife, digging it into Annabeth’s leg.

Both of her packmates snarled, but Annabeth turned towards them with every ounce of authority she had in her. “STAND DOWN.” She ordered, with such force they both bowed their heads slightly.

Reached down, ignoring the burning pain spreading through her leg, she wrapped her hand around his, prying his hand from the knife without much issue.

Shifting her leg away, the knife still in it, she held his hand. “Percy. We’re going to save you. I promise.”

He squeezed her hand, looking up at her with desperate eyes and shallow breaths. They were shaking with fear as tears started to fall. Even his broken facade fell apart. “I’m… sorry.” His voice cracked out, as he squeezed her hand a little tighter for a moment, before his head slowly fell to the forest ground.

“Will!” She ordered and in a flash Will was at her side, pulling supplies out of his bag as he did what first aid he could. “Don’t let him die. That’s an order.” Will just nodded at her outrageous command. It was obvious he was going to do what he could, but the order was mostly just to help her feel some sense of control over the situation.

Piper rushed to her side, looking at her leg. “Are you okay?”

Annabeth nodded, wiping some sweat from her brow. “I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse and it’s just my leg. Will can help me after Percy is more stable. Call Leo, have him have a van ready to bring Percy back. He will need more help.”

Piper was on the phone a minute later as Annabeth sat back, wincing as her leg still felt like it was on fire but she was tough, she’d be fine till Will had a chance to help her.

Percy was completely out now, but still breathing luckily. Will continued to do what little he could for now, before he moved over to Annabeth.

“I have to remove the knife now.” He warned.

Nodding, Annabeth took a deep breath. “Just let me kn-”

Mid sentence he pulled the knife out as quickly as he could.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Annabeth screamed, her words echoing through the forest, making Piper looked back at her over her shoulder from her phone call.

Will just winced, with the smallest hint of a smirk on his face.

“You asshole.” She said, wincing as he started to stitch the wound.

“I didn’t want you to tense up.” He offered.

Annabeth just glared at him, having a few more choice words for her sadistic doctor but Percy was dulling her edge at the moment.

A few minutes later a few more of their pack members showed up and managed to carry Percy towards the van while Piper helped Annabeth limp her way back. Her leg was already healing but it would still take a while.

As they all piled in the van, Annabeth just let out a deep sigh.

“Are you okay?” Will asked from Percy’s side.

Annabeth nodded. “Just done with today.”

Piper let out a hollow laugh, kissing the top of her friend's head. “We saved him.”

Annabeth nodded, leaning into Piper’s shoulder as her eyes drooped slightly. Healing always drained Annabeth’s energy.

“Get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we’re back at the house.”

Annabeth nodded, and after one last glance at the boy, she was out.

XxXxXxXxX

Annabeth paced back and forth as Will finished up all he could do on Percy.

“Will he be okay?”

Will nodded. “He’ll be fine. The wound is closing up nicely, we got there in time.”

Annabeth felt like a weight dropped off her shoulder. Now that he was safe, they could work on helping him mentally. That last look he had given her and set her mind. He needed their help. Even if he didn’t want to admit it. She was too stubborn to let him go now.

Looking over his frame, Annabeth frowned. “He… doesn’t look good.”

Will nodded his head, running a hand through his hair solemnly . “He’s… drastically underweight.” He said, putting it lightly.

That was much was clear, even to Annabeth. The guy was starving. Plus he had a few scars on him, the most notable being a large deep scar from his right shoulder to his left hip. With how fast they healed, Annabeth shuddered to think about what the wound must have been like in order to leave that.

Annabeth couldn’t even imagine how much of a hell his life must have been to leave him in that state.

This boy seemed like a tragic mystery to her, and she desperately wanted to figure him out.

Seeing Will out a yawn, she stood up. “Go get some rest. You’ve been working straight for a while now. I’ll stick around in case he wakes up.”

Will opened his mouth but Annabeth cut him off.

“Shut up. You said you’re done with him. Go get some rest, we might need you later. That’s an order.”

Will gave her a mild glared, but nodded. “Fine. There’s some pain killers on my desk if either of you need them. Call me if you need to, don’t hesitate.”

Annabeth gave him a dismissive wave as she pulled up a chair, spinning it around and leaning over the back of it as she looked at the sleeping boy. There was so much to him, and she wanted to know why he was so adamant about refusing help even when dying. She had a feeling that scar had a lot to do with it.

Annabeth wasn’t sure if she had fully dozed off or not, but at the sound of a groan, her eyes shot open as she saw Percy start to shift, eyes blinking.

She watched him fully wake up, shifting before his eyes fell on her and he tensed up.

“You drool when you sleep.” Was all she said, as she continued to stay on the chair, watching him carefully.

She saw his expression shift from fear, to anger, to relief, before settling on a forced stoic face.

“Where am I?” He asked curtly.

“Someplace safe. Will patched you up, make sure you thank him later for saving your life.”

Annabeth countered.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

Glaring slightly, Annabeth shifted her weight. “I know. You actually made quite an effective argument against it when you stabbed your knife into my leg.”

The boy winced, before he glanced at her leg then back at her.

“Where’s my knife?” He tried something else.

“Someplace safe.” She repeated, a little pleased at the annoyed look that crossed his face. “You lost your privilege of having sharp things for now.”

A low growl emitted from his throat as he looked at her. “Don’t talk down to me.”

“Or what?” Annabeth challenged, sitting up. “You can’t even stand up.”

Percy glared at her, clearly attempting to sit up but that was clearly a bad idea as his face flushed as he gasped in pain.

“For now.” He muttered childishly.

Annabeth sighed. “Just be patient and let us heal you up then you can have your stuff back.”

“Good. Then I can get out of here.”

“OKAY. What the hell is your problem?” She snapped, kicking the chair off to the side as it hit the wall. Her frustration had gone way past her limits.

Percy flinched at this, but he was completely at her mercy.

“I’ve gone out of my way to save your life, even after you STABBED me. I’ve had every reason to kill your or let you die and you still are acting like we’re out to get you.” She was breathing heavily now, the frustration of the past few days finally boiling over. “What the hell is wrong with you.”

“Because I know you’re going to kill me!” Percy snapped back, forcing himself to sit up despite all the pain he was clearly in. If Annabeth wasn’t so worked up she probably would have yelled at him for that. “It’s the same with every pack. They talk sweet to you, let you in, and the second you’re seen a threat they try and kill you! I’m done with it!” He snapped back, tears boiling over. “I just want to be left alone. That’s all I want.”

Annabeth paused, taking a few deep breaths as she was glad to finally be getting some honesty from Percy.

He glared at her, fists bunching up. “I’m sorry, okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for shouting at you. And insulting you. You saved my life, and I’m so relieved and thankful. I can never thank you enough. I just don’t want to die. I don’t want to hurt anyone…” His voice cracked as he full on started crying despite his best attempts to hide it.

Annabeth felt all the steam leave her as her heart broke at the boy trying to keep it together in front of her but failing miserably. Her suspicions had been right, something had happened with a previous pack. Moving over, Annabeth sat on the edge of his bed. After a moment of hesitation, she reached out and rubbed his back.

“It’s okay.” She said, her voice gentle. “I promise you, this pack isn’t like that. We just don’t want to see a lone wolf kill himself out of stubbornness. We’re not saying you need to join us or whatever. Just.. give us a chance. Let us help you, okay? That’s all we want. I’m the Alpha, and you have my protection as long as you’re here. No one can lay a hand on you, as long as you don’t do anything stupid.”

Percy nodded, taking a few more shaky breaths. “I… Thank you. Annabeth. Thank you. For everything.”

Annabeth smiled, messing with his hair slightly. “You’re welcome. But get some sleep. We still have a lot to talk about, but you need rest. When you wake up we can talk some more and I’ll introduce you to the people who saved you.”

He nodded, slowly laying back down. He was quiet, and Annabeth figured she wasn’t going to get much more out of him for now. It seemed there was even more to unpack than she thought. Still, knowing that he would be safe and getting help was enough for now.” Setting the chair back up, she set a glass of water next to some pain killers on the table near him and then left him alone, not the least bit surprised when she suddenly opened the door as Piper stumbled into the room from where she had been listening on the other side. “Come on, he needs some rest.” She said, deciding here wasn’t the best place to scold her friend. As she lead Piper away, Annabeth just smiled. It seemed things had finally calmed down. Now the real work could begin.

XxXxXxXxX

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, I had a lot of fun writing it. Boy it’s hard writing angst though. As always, let me know what you think! Percy was a bit different in this one, but he’ll get back to how I usually write him soon enough. =P I hope he came across alright. If you enjoyed this please check out my twitter HERE

Also please consider checking out my commissions HERE It really is hard to split my time between writing and working on my art to get some income so just spreading the word is enough. I can absolutely through in another chapter or request with an art commission too! Either way, thank you for looking at them!

I hope you enjoy it! Depending on the engagement I might be able to get another chapter out soon too!

#percabeth #pjo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #piper mcclean

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plaidstiel-wormstache · 5 years

Text

Standing Here

A/N: I came up with this idea when I was on my 11th repeat of the song Dancing On My Own by Callum Scott (I LOVE this song). I also have another idea for it so don’t be surprised if you see it elsewhere in my writing. Summary: Reader falls for Dean and finds herself in too deep when it all comes to a head. Characters: YN (reader insert), Dean & Sam, Niklaus (an OC) Warnings: Blood, gore, death, rejection, aussie spelling, supernatural style violence and themes Genre: Angst ... Word Count: 2000ish Heads up: Lyrics are in italics. Shout Out: @wi-deangirl77 thank you. I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate your encouragement, your enthusiasm, and your stamina for this piece. Thank you for beta-ing as well.

“This drink is for you!” The hostess said to Dean as she placed the beer in front of him, her brightest smile set in place, her hip jutting out, hair framing her face just so. “Aren’t I a lucky guy?” He flirted, grinning up at her. “I dunno, are you?” She braved, batting her eyelashes at him. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes already darkening at the prospect of taking her home. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.” He sat back in his chair, arm over the back of it, inviting her eyes to rake over him. “I get off work in an hour.” “Great, I can return the favour.” He said, dragging his drink towards him when she looked confused. “Oh yeah, right!” She bit her lip and turned back to her job when a guy behind the bar called to her.

YN had fallen for Dean the moment she saw him. His hazel eyes, the stubble over his chiseled jaw, the smirk playing at the corner of his mouth when he drank. She saw it all, and she didn’t even mind that he was a hunter. She knew him and loved him.

“Let’s get out of here,” The waitress said, watching Dean down the rest of his drink. “And where would you like to go?” Dean asked, a sly smile on his face. She picked up her drink, tipped the last drop back and with that little extra liquid courage, she licked her lips and pulled Dean into her by his lapels, catching him by surprise with a kiss. His hands moved of their own accord, pulling her closer, holding her to him.

YN sat in the corner watching Dean kiss the waitress from earlier, the waitress that had delivered the drink she’d bought him to his table. She looked down at the drink in front of her, the bubbles rising to pop through the thin film of foam in her untouched glass. I’m right over here, why can’t he see me. YN thought, catching a loose tendril of hair and winding around her finger as her eyes crept back up to look at the couple. But they were no longer there. Her head snapped up and she let go of her hair, searching the bar for him. The door closed in her peripheral and she grabbed her bag, almost forgetting her coat, and pushed through the group that had just come in.

The parking lot was mostly empty save a large pickup truck, a van, and a revving black impala. There he was, behind the wheel of his car, the woman pressed up against his side, giggling as he winked at her. YN left the curb, turning to her bag and searching for her keys, heading for her truck. A loud crunch of gravel, a squeal of brakes on tires, the flood of headlights making her glow in the night. She looked up, frozen to the spot, startled. “Move!” The girl behind the window called before laughing as the horn blew making YN jump slightly. She quickly moved out of the way, watching as Dean drove off with the waitress.

YN knew she loved Dean from the moment she saw him a month ago. The faintest smell of blood stuck to the dank air as she made her way through the backlot of the bar. A snack, that’s all she needed, just something tasty, and there it was, sleeping soundly in the back of an impala. She watched him sleep in the backseat of that car, parked in the dead end of town. The frown that crinkled his brow, the slight downturn to his bottom lip, the split skin trying to heal over his cheek. She knew she couldn’t hurt him, eat him, he was perfect. Instead, she’d protect him at all costs, and one day he’d see her. He’d know her and love her.

YN woke with a start, wiping at what she hoped was drool as she looked around the car lot. The thump of the impala’s door caught her attention before the rev of an engine awakened her senses. The two men were sitting in the front of the impala as it pulled out. YN followed the sleek, black car out of town, and drove past it when they turned down a driveway that wound down between dense trees. She pulled the truck into the brush and got out, taking a sniff of the air. She closed the door quietly, then marched into the undergrowth, thinking nothing of the small scratches from the twigs and waist high grass. A colonial style house came into view, and the echo of a gunshot rang through the air. “Dean.” YN took off running towards the house, legs pumping, arms pulling, branches whipping at her. She stopped just at the tree line and drank in the air around her, leaning forward for a better smell of the house. She swallowed thickly and took off the delicate necklace around her neck and put it in her back pocket for safe keeping. She felt the change ripple through her, tastebuds burning, heart pounding, the smell of blood hung thick in the air. She sprinted towards the house and crouched under a window. She peeked in and saw him. Dean was out cold, sprawled on the floor, two men standing over him, his brother similarly positioned nearby. YN tipped back her head and let a vicious howl escape her throat.

The monster moved away from his prey at the sound of the threat. Blood pumping, animal instinct in full swing, he launched himself through the window at the approaching threat. YN was ready. Catching and tossing him over her, he rolled and found his feet, his body crouched and low to the ground. The two supernatural beings circled each other, sizing up the other, but YN was anxious to get this over with. Fueled by that raw protective instinct, she let out a menacing growl and then attacked the creature with a vengeance. Letting that animalistic side of her brain take over, something she hadn’t done in months.

YN was dancing to the music, her hands in her hair, hips swaying in time to the beat, and she smiled as a wave of euphoria surged through her. Today had been a good day! Dean was still alive, and he was three feet away from her. She looked up and the smile slipped.

A young woman had her back pressed against the wall, her eyelids heavy as she gazed up at the man above her, his lips inches from hers. Dean was leaning against the wall just over her shoulder, his other hand gently caressing her hip, pulling her toward him for a kiss. Their lips met and his body bent forward to press against hers.

I’m giving it my all, so why aren’t I the girl you’re taking home? YN wondered, standing still in the sea of people dancing. The lights came up and the music died, the couple broke apart and Dean looked around as the woman reached up to whisper in his ear. He nodded and she hooked an arm around his waist, his hand over her shoulder, as they left together.

YN perched herself in the window overlooking the alley, waiting. She’d heard the plans the boys had made that morning in the diner, listening to the monster they’d tracked; her distant step-brother.

“Baby sister.” The cool and cruel voice hissed behind her. YN’s head whipped around, her eyes wide as she stared at the man opposite her. “What? No hello, no hug?” He said, a leering smile on his face as he closed the distance between them. “Stop,” YN growled. He didn’t stop. YN pressed herself into the wall, her back arching, her lips pulling back over her teeth. In the blink of an eye, he reached out and grasped her necklace in his large fist, ripping it from her neck. A shudder ran through her body, rippling out from her chest; the bird in the distance chirping, the taste of the wet cement, the smell of car fumes… it was all so clear now. “There she is!” He sneered, She launched for his hand, “Give it back!” She demanded through grit teeth, holding onto that last shred of humanity. He reefed his hand back, almost surprised at how quickly she moved now. “We’ve missed you little one!” He snickered. Before she could question him as to who else was there, who else knew where she was, the whiff of human sweat swept by on the strong wind. “No,” She breathed, watching as her brother caught the same smell, his eyes turning black, his head circling to follow the scent. “Smell that, little one? I brought dinner!” He grinned wide, tossing the necklace aside, before sprinting for the stairs, disappearing down them in a flash. The animal inside of her took over, and she was helpless to stop it; her muscles ached, her bones cracked, she curled over on herself as the transformation began. She spent all this time making sure they never saw her like this, but now she had no choice. YN merged into what she had been hiding from everyone, from Dean, from herself.

There was a bang on the floor below her and YN ran towards the stairs, as fast as her legs would carry her. The only thought on her mind, Dean. “Niklaus!” YN growled as she came to a stop, her brother crouched over a man that wasn’t moving. “Come on sister, I know you miss this!” He said, looking back at her. “Dean!” Sam’s voice echoed through the building and while YN was distracted, Niklaus tore past her, in the direction of his voice. YN flew to the man on the ground, taking in a sharp breath when she saw it was him. She dropped to her knees and took hold of his shoulder. “Dean? Dean! You gotta wake up!” YN hissed at him, shaking him. “Big brother’s asleep on the job.” YN heard Niklaus tease Sam from the other room. “Sam needs you, wake up!” YN whispered urgently, her palm now fitted to his jaw. “Dean!” Sam called again. There was a bone-chilling laugh, interrupted by the younger Winchester. “What’ve you done to him?” Sam demanded, before suddenly a scuffle and then a ringing gunshot bounced off the walls. YN threw herself over Dean’s body, protecting him from anything that might come through the door. Bangs and grunts came from the other room, then finally there was silence.

YN pulled Dean’s head into her lap, smoothing the backs of her fingers over his stubbled jaw. The fall of a boot behind her pricked her ear, but it was too late to react. A searing heat sliced through her back and pushed deep into her chest. Her breath caught, her arms instinctively pulling wide, her head dropping back to look up at the man over her.

Sam was staring at his brother, making sure he was okay as he ripped the knife from her back. She slumped but managed to stay on her knees, blood dripping from her mouth.

“Dean!” Sam dropped to his knees on the other side, pulling his brother away from YN. Dean groaned and raised a hand to his head as his eyes fluttered open. He caught sight of YN and sat up, rigid. “It’s okay,” Sam said, keeping a wary eye on her. YN’s breathing became ragged and gravity pulled her to the ground, flat on her back. She managed to turn her head and watch Sam help Dean to his feet. “Was someone calling my name?” Dean asked his brother, picking up his weapon from where it had fallen when he’d been knocked out. “I think you’ve hit your head one time too many,” Sam said, wiping the blood from his knife. Dean glanced at YN, her eyes growing heavy, her breath still, pulse weak. “I think it was her.” So far away, but still so near.

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missblissy · 5 years

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Title: Homeless at Home Fandom: Red Dead Redemption Genre: fanfiction, chapters, angst, reader insert, fluff, slow burn, friends-to-lovers, pre-game Characters: Young!Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van Der Linde, Hosea Mathews, Arthur Morgan/ Reader, Female reader, Arthur x Reader, Arthur Morgan x Reader, Arthur/ You, Young!reader Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten

Follow me on AO3!! Read it there too!

((Hello friends!! Another chapter has been posted!! Another one will be up tonight!! Thank you so much for being so kind with me!! I’m sorry I’ve been posting infrequently! That is about to change soon!! Several other fics will be posted tonight!!!!))

Description:

The winter world was slowly melting away and it was quite beautiful to watch. You would stare at the colorful birds as they flew from branch to branch. Blue Jays bounced around and sang as they raced the Cardinals to the barren treetops. You much preferred to watch the crows though, they would stare back at you with dark little eyes that told ancient stories you could never understand. The crows would hop around and watch you and Arthur ride through the thin forest, then suddenly dozens of them took to the skies.

_______________________________________________________

This was it. You knew you had finally done it. The air was frigid, it made your skin turn a light shade of pink. Your fingers were ice cold even though you had two pairs of gloves on. It may have been near freezing but you were still sweating from running so much. Your heart raced, beating louder and louder like a drum in your ears.

Where was he? The tree you had taken cover behind wouldn’t last for long. You knew he was out there, waiting, ready to end it all. God dammit! Why did you always find yourself in these kinds of situations? Why were you so bad at being… bad? You sucked in a deep breath and took the biggest risk of your life.

Slowly and slower than time, you started to peek your head out from around the tree. Maybe he was still out? Or was he hiding still? As you neared the side of the tree and peered around the corner, you had zero time to react. What god damn mistake you made.

A snowball collided with your side of your face, adding to the collection of welts to your body that now tallied to six. Arthur was standing in the backyard of your hidden home, bending over laughing.

“Haha!! Got you again!!” You watched him slap his leg and nearly shit himself laughing.

You cleaned the snow away from your face and hair and took this as a chance to wad up a snowball of your own. Packing the snow tight together between your hands, you curled your arm back and snapped it forward. The snowball flew through the air right towards Arthur’s shoulder. When he was struck by the snowball he looked back up with a fire in his eyes that told you to run again.

A scream echoed out into the snowy forest as you ran for the barn this time. Arthur was hot on your tail and you could hear him calling out to you.

“You started this war!” He laughed, “Surrender or die!”

You got to the front doors of the barn and fumbled to push them open, “Eat my shit!!” It was too late, as you looked over your shoulder you were pelted with another snowball, this time on your upper leg.

Sometimes he could be such an asshole. You let out a yelp and frowned at Arthur, “This isn’t fun anymore! You’re just trying to hurt me now!” It was all fun and games in the beginning, but somehow it really did turn into a snowball war and Arthur was winning. He was only so good because he was older and had wicked good eye sight. You still struggled with shooting and aiming a gun, so how on earth could you throw a snowball?

Despite the war, it was nice to finally get out of the house again. A long storm had raged through the deeper parts of Paradise Valley. And Dutch said the winter’s here were mild. You’ve spent nearly all of it inside that house, listening to Uncle’s drunk stories about his golden years. The spring was only a few weeks away now, and Hosea had still not returned.

Nothing special happened this winter, thankfully. Though, when the Christmas time came around there was a nice humble morning were everyone woke up together and had a real and meaningful breakfast. You spent a lot of that time reading the medical books you had gotten from the doctor in town. One was on plants and how to make them in to medicine, you already knew a lot about that thanks to your mother. Another one was about tending to all type of open wounds and injuries. You had started practicing how to stitch with a needle and thread that Susan had lent you. Stitching a person and a blanket wasn’t that different. You had mastered the baseball stitch and the lock stitch but you still had a few others to get.

Now you stood facing death on the first day out in months. Arthur was an evil man, or just a bastard, perhaps both. You looked at him, glaring, daring him to throw another snowball, “Hit me again and see what happens!” You challenged him for the first time since this war started.

“Yeah? What’s a tiny little thing like you gonna do?” Arthur’s cocky grin ate away at you.

With a huff and a pout, you decided to really turn the tables. You locked eyes with Arthur and started to get the waterworks going. You let out a fake sob and wailed, “DUTCH!!!” And ran past Arthur before he could slap a hand on your mouth and save his own skin.

He cursed under his breath and dropped the snowball in his hand, “Shit- (Y/n)! I didn’t mean it! Come on it was a game!!” It stopped being a game when he started being an asshole.

You ran inside from the backdoor and through the kitchen, Arthur was close behind you when you got to the living room, “Dutch!” You yelled out to the old man sitting on the couch, reading away. Your loud yell startled him and he dropped his book right before you hid behind him with a small cry, “Arthur’s throwing snowballs at me! He won’t stop! He hit me in the face! Look!”

There was no way of stopping the bomb you had just set off. Dutch didn’t say a word as he gentle grabbed you by the chin and turn your head to look at the goose egg that was forming. You let out another cry, “He got me other places too,” You whined.

Arthur stood frozen in the entrance to the living room. You watched as a part of his soul floated away and into the heavens. Normally when Arthur was being a dick, you just ignored him. But sometimes he took it too far, like today, and you needed to unleash the wrath of Mother Dutch onto him.

Dutch snapped his gaze to the young outlaw and said, “What the hell is wrong with you? Huh? Throwing snowballs at a little girl?” You weren’t that little, not really.

You watched Arthur start to glare and his mouth hanging open, “She!” He pointed a finger at you, “She started it! She threw one at me!”

“And surely you are the dumb ass to throw one back,” Dutch got up from his spot on the couch while picking his book up off the floor. As he passed Arthur he smacked him on the head with his book and said, “Stop it. Get your ass back outside and keep watch,” Dutch suddenly snapped to you, “And you,” His glare softened but it was still there, “Stop bothering him.” He left after that and headed upstairs to find a new peaceful reading space.

The two of you were left alone again and all the hostility from before had started to melt away. You had won the last battle and you took your victory with pride. However, at the same time, you wanted to get the hell out of the house before Susan or Annabelle started asking you to do chores. So it was time for a new game.

You bolted. You broke out into a sprint and as you ran past Arthur you slapped a hand onto his arm and yelled out, “Tag!” And ran for the door.

He took the bait. He always took the bait. For a grumpy teenage outlaw, he sure loved playing games with you. He’d be turning 17 soon, and you knew sooner or later Arthur would join The Adults and leave you and your games behind. So you tried to enjoy them while you could. He was your best friend and you wanted to keep it that way forever.

As you ran out of the house you made your way back to the barn. Hidden inside was Callus and the rest of the horses. You had about ten seconds to mount up and run. It took you fifteen seconds just to get inside. Arthur was right behind you and you felt him smack your arm as he ran past you going deeper within the barn. He got on his horse quicker than you and fled the barn. His laughter filled the air as you scurried after him.

You busted out of the barn and saw the Arthur in the distance as he fled the forest. You chased after him on Callus. Snow fled into the air as you rushed your mustang to catch up with Arthur. Somehow tag turned into a race. When you got close enough to Arthur you laughed out and said, “Last one to Bottom’s Bridge has to do the other’s chores for a week!” Just as you said that you made it to the main road. You took a sharp right turn and took the lead as a confused Arthur had to process what you said.

It didn’t take long for him to understand and chase after you. The two of you race nearly side by side on the road. Eventually, the thick forest turned into an open valley. Cold air whipped past you, burning your cheeks and tangling your hair in the wind. For the first time in months, you felt free and alive. Something about riding a horse on the open snowy plains made you feel this sense of wonder that you thought you’d never feel again. Laughter bubbled from your lungs and filled the chilly air. The morning sun had nearly made it halfway up into the perfectly clear sky. Not a single cloud was out.

You looked over and you could see Arthur riding along beside you. He had a grin larger than life on his face. His own laughter echoed into the valley air. You shared a glance with him, your eyes locked and in just second Arthur had sped off ahead of you. His hair fluttered effortlessly in the cold wind and you could just make out the trail of clouds that escaped his lungs as he breathed.

That bastard wasn’t going to win, you wouldn’t stand for it. You spurred Callus on and snapped your reins, You let out a quiet breathy whisper, “Come on!” You begged your stallion, “Come on boy!” You kept your eyes locked on Arthur as you followed hot on his tail. He looked over his shoulder and cackled and hollered.

“Can’t catch up can ya, kid?!” The idiot wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.

In the distance, you could see the valley’s end. A frozen river flew and squirmed through the valley until it reached the end of a cliff. Bottom’s Bridge swept across the Paradise Falls where the river flowed down into a deep gorge.

Arthur’s horse grew spooked by the wall of steam and misty the flew in the sky as he ran towards the river’s bridge to cross it. The horse nearly bucked and kicked him off but you and Callus dashed past him and into cold icy clouds. The sun shimmered and little rainbows cast off each misty drop that escaped the edge of the falls. As you past Arthur you grinned at him, amazed and delighted to see his surprised face.

You pulled on the reins just as you heard the sound of wood clonk under Callus’s hooves. You made it to the bridge, a big cheeky grin smeared on your face, “I won!” You look over your shoulder at Arthur who had just made it there and threw the wall of mist, “I beat you!”

“Ah! So what!” He waved a hand at you, clearly trying to play it off, “I ain’t doing your chores no matter how many times you win!”

“Fine!” You huffed but you had a small smile. You pulled at the reins in your hands and spurred Callus towards the bridge, “Buy me something in town then!”

Arthur didn’t argue, you were already half way to town anyways. Besides, he could buy some much needed personal supplies. He could check the post office too for Dutch while he was at it. You waited for him to reach your side and the two of your set off together, side by side once again, at a slow and casual pace.

Spring was coming very soon and you loved watching the world come back to life. The ride was silent for the most part, but you enjoyed the silence while a glance at Arthur every now and then just to make sure he wouldn’t pull any tricks or stunts. It wasn’t long until you made it the near hour and a half journey into Sugartown. It had been weeks since you saw the bleak little town. The dark winter trapped you in the house and it was refreshing to see other people some kind of civilization. You had little clothes to keep you warm, which was the biggest reason you stayed indoors. The second reason was that you had taken advantage of the basement in the house and used to practice your herb use as well.

At least it was warm enough now for your crappy jacket and several layers of shirts. You and Arthur hitched your horses outside the post office at every edge of town. As he stomped down into the muddy snow he groaned out and complained, “Ahh- I’m gonna check for any mail,” He sniffled his nose, you could see it was bright red and runny. He swiped his sleeve under his nose then walked past you, “Don’t get lost, kay? I’ll be back out and buy you whatever you want in a few seconds.”

You didn’t say much, you just nodded your head and made yourself comfortable against the wall near the front door. Arthur headed inside and you took to your least favorite pass time, people watching. First, you saw a busy priest dash down the road from his cute little church and right into some unknown building that didn’t have any signs on it. Then you saw a cozy fat little woman walking with her son, they headed down the main drag of town and went into the doctor’s office. You felt a shutter and shiver go down your spine and you knew it wasn’t from the cold. That town doctor… whatever his name was, you couldn’t remember if he told you or not. He didn’t give you a good feeling. He knew your family, and at this point, there was no way he didn’t know you.

The last time you saw him, it scared you a little bit, and at the same time, it bothered you. Would he go to the law and expose Dutch and the gang for technically kidnapping you? It wasn’t like that at all, but what adult lawmen would listen to a 13-year-old girl explain that she willingly went with them? So many people wanted Dutch’s head, they’d take any excuse they could to book him in a jail cell for good. The face of an evil child kidnapper was exactly what they wanted to paint him as. You and everyone else who knew Dutch knew he was more of a chaotic lover than anything else. He didn’t want to harm people, and a lot of his fortune was spent on others, even strangers. If people pushed him though, he’d kill and he’d do it with no mercy.

You shook those thoughts from your head then wondered what was taking Arthur so long. He’d been gone for almost ten minutes. You ventured into the dark and dim post office and waited as your eyes adjusted to the light. After a second of blinking blindly, you found Arthur at the mail window.

It took only a second for you to glare and roll your eyes before walking over to him. He was standing broad and wide, leaning forward on the mail window’s counter as he flirted with the young teenage teller who worked here. Arthur talked low and made the young girl laugh and giggle behind her hand.

You couldn’t blame him, she was very pretty. She had a clean smile and rosy cheeks that gave away her wild blush. Her hair was dark black with wild curls that frizzed out in every direction. She dressed very casual and proper in a creamy white dress that had cute little black ribbons in it. You made your way to the window and crossed your arms and stomped a food hard down onto the floorboards.

Arthur snapped from his flirty eyed daze and you saw his face go from that gross thirsty look into one of anger and irritation. The young woman, however, seemed amused. She laughed like an airhead and peered over the counter to look down at you.

“Hello, little girl,” She greeted you, but you ignored her and glared back at Arthur.

You pointed a finger at him and took three steps closer till you jabbed your finger into his stomach, “You said a few seconds! You’re a dirty filthy liar.”

“It’s only been a few minutes,” Arthur retorted and shrugged like he didn't care, “Go wait outside, kid,” He tried to shoo you away but you smacked his hand.

The poor innocent girl made a terrible mistake. She was confused and asked, “Is she your little sister?” Something about that question made you angry.

“No!” You suddenly turned your glare on the innocent girl and tried to smile, “He’s a terrible person, trust me, your father would never let you marry him.” This girl stared back at you with a blank gaze, it made you think she was more stupid than the average person.

Before Arthur could beat you and before the girl could gasp in shock, you slapped your hand on the mail Arthur failed to take. You looked at him, ready to fight toe to toe, “Can we go now?”

As much as Arthur wanted to wring your neck, he didn’t and he just huffed a big sigh and grabbed you by your arm as he dragged you out of the post office. You yanked your arm away from him once got outside and gave the mail back to Arthur. He tucked it away into his satchel and followed you.

“Why you always gotta do that?” Arthur barked down at you, he walked beside you as you ran down the steps and deeper into town.

“Do what?” You asked like you had no idea what he was talking about.

Arthur scoffed then slacked your shoulder with the back of his hand, “Be a little rude shit to all the girls I talk to?” You couldn’t deny that anytime you caught Arthur flirting with some stranger you’d get angry, but you did because it disgusted you and he always chooses to take his perverted interests at the most inconvenient times.

“Because it annoys you,” You smirked up at him and then mockingly said, “Because I’m your annoying little sister,” You smacked him back, right in the gut, then hurried off to avoid getting smacked twice as harder.

You fled into the general store, your goal all along, a ran towards the back of the store were the kept all the candy you could dream of in tiny little barrels. This was the prize you wanted for winning your race. Arthur may have forgotten all about it, but you didn’t. He came bursting through the door looking like an idiot. The store clerk gave him a glare and muttered something under his breath.

Arthur joined you in the back of the store, slightly winded and breathing heavily. He didn’t even say a word and picked up a bag and started doing the same as you. You both filled the red paper bags to the brim with sweet treats. You loved chocolate the most and got the sweet little round chocolate truffles. Arthur collected carnal and butterscotch like some old man.

“I should get two bags because I won the race,” You said casually.

Arthur grunted, which was his only reply. He didn’t say no, so you handed him your first bag and filled a second one. You filled that one with one of every candy, then a few extras of your favorites. Arthur took all three bags and handed them over to the overly grumpy store clerk. He weighed them out then tied them closed with little twisty ties. Arthur paid for each one in his silent monotone autopilot mode, mumbling thanks, then tossed you both of your bags.

You left the store, tearing open one bag and digging into the candies, and followed Arthur through town once more. You walked side by side down the wood plank sidewalks. You tossed a little chocolate truffle into your mouth and sighed in glee at the sweet and precious candy as it melted away in your mouth.

“Thanks for the candy, Arthur,” You beamed up to your unruly friend.

He seemed to have gotten over all the trouble you caused him today, and was content with plucking away at the sweet little caramel treats he got himself, “Don’t mention it,”

Despite all the irritation, you caused each other, you really did care about Arthur like he was a brother. He was family, and as much as you pestered and annoyed the shit out of him sometimes, he’d never want to see or do you any harm. The two of you enjoyed each other company and found a bench to sit on under the cover of a stores front porch. You silently sat together, eating away at candy, until Arthur realized the whole reason you even came to town.

“The mail!” He said out of nowhere, nearly giving you a heart attack, “I almost forgot!” He set his bag of candy down between the town of you and dug into his satchel, “Look, (Y/n),” Arthur handed you a small and warn envelope.

You clasped it tight with cold fingers and squinted down at the words. It was addressed to a Francis Marwick. That was another pen name set up between the gang. Suddenly it hit you and you snapped your gaze back to Arthur, gasping out, “It’s from Hosea!”

Arthur swiped the letter and tucked it away. Before you could protest and ask to read it, he firmly said, “Dutch has got to see it first,” he shook his head at you. You sprung up from your seat quickly and grabbed him by his arm, “Then we better get back!”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He was coming back. Hosea had written a lengthy letter that took to long to finally get to Dutch. When Arthur gave Dutch the letter, he was almost at a loss of words. A letter and it was from Hosea? You thought Dutch would be angry, at first, but he was just surprised. It took him a while to get through the whole thing, but you watch Dutch’s face change and listened to him read bits of the letter out loud.

The story goes like this; Bessie’s father had died and her two sisters sold the ranch and ran off with whatever money they could make. She followed one of her sisters to California after finding out they tricked her, and lied about going to Texas. Hosea comes in because he promised to help Bessie get the money for her ranch back. Months had passed and they made no luck finding her sister… but… They did get married. Hosea pleaded that he would have been back sooner, and with as much money as he could bring but they were cheated out of an inheritance and robbed of everything they owned. They got stuck in California though, waiting to make enough money to head home.

Hosea wrote that he would have never of let this happen and that he would hopefully be home once the spring had settled in. As for Susan’s declaration that he was a money hungry gold digger, that seemed false because he didn’t gain a single penny from marrying Bessie, instead he gained the love his life, or so that’s how he described it.

Now you had to wait. You made yourself useful around camp and started talking up hunting as your preferred chore. For some reason, you wanted to impress Hosea when he got back home. You still studied hard away at making medicines in the basement. You were not very good at it, but you knew it’d take time and practice. You practiced your stitching as well, every day you would take some leather from a previous hunt and stitch them together as if they were skin in need medical attention. You had started studying from a book on veins and arteries as well.

When you weren’t busy studying or doing chores, you’d spend your free time with Arthur. Dutch was to busy looking for a new campsite or wooing Annabelle to be bothered right now. Susan enjoyed your company in the morning when you did chores with her, but she preferred to spend her evenings in town or alone. And no one wanted to hang around Uncle to long or he’d talk your ear right off.

The snow soon melted away entirely, and days turned into weeks, and the forest started to bloom to life. With the good weather, Dutch took to moving camp closer to town. You packed up your things and wished the house a very welcomed goodbye. You hated living there, crammed into such a small space with so many people. Perhaps it wasn’t that bad that Hosea wasn’t there for the house, there surely wasn’t any room for him or Bessie.

As you left the house behind, you wondered how Hosea would know where to find your new camp. Arthur left a note behind, written in code in case anyone other than Hosea was to find it. Your new camp was a million times better, thank God. Although the weather was still a little chilly, the days grew warm and you found a new camp west of Sugartown, and east of a new town called Blue Rock, it was a coal mining town and full of prospects and outlaws. It was a place Dutch wanted to call home but Annabelle managed to argue with him into choosing a shady lakeside camp equally between the two towns.

You were glad she did, because, on your first visit to Blue Rock, you felt unwanted and scared. It was a town filled with mostly men, prostitutes, miners, and all sorts of criminals. They all stared at you like you were a freak. There were houses that the miners lived in, saloons, train stations for the coal that was mined, and several brothels. There was no church, no sheriff’s office, no bank, and no doctor. It was truly lawless, dark, dank, and dangerous. You never went back after that. Anytime Arthur or Dutch went to town, you had to always ask which one now.

It wasn’t until it was a cold and misty morning where you found yourself cast far out from camp. You were sitting on a rock down the beach of camp as you worked at carving your initials into the stone with your hunting knife. Someone was walking across the stony beach, you could hear them step over all the smooth little pebbles. They made their way towards you and as you looked over your shoulder you threw your knife to the ground and leap from the top of the large boulder you perched yourself on.

Hosea had come home, and he stood in front of you with his arms held wide open. He was tanner than usual and his hair had grown out some. You let out some strange laugh mixed with a cry as you ran towards him and threw yourself into his arms, “You’re back!” It had been months since you last saw him.

You never realized until he was gone just how much you missed Hosea. He laughed and let out a grunt as you threw yourself at him, but he smiled and jokingly said, “Of course I am! Where else would I go?” You missed him so much. Life wasn’t the same without him, you had no one to go hunting with, which you’ve grown to deeply enjoy the hunt and providing for the gang since Hosea’s absence. There was less joy in camp without him as well, everyone missed him. There was also little profit coming in without the master conman at work. Dutch was little to nothing without his right-hand man.

“I never thought you’d come back. You just left without saying anything…” You let out a little cry, but it was free of any tears. You buried your face into Hosea’s chest and listened to him softly laugh. It was comforting to hear him again.

“I would never leave you behind, I always had intentions of coming back,” Hosea held you close, hugging you, then pulling away, “How could I leave you and Arthur with Dutch for too long? He’d get you guys killed eventually,” He said those words so seriously, you thought he was joking but he didn’t laugh and neither did you.

Hosea stood tall and held onto your hand as you walked down the beach towards camp together. You told him all about how awful the winter was and how much Arthur liked to pick on you.

When you started to ask him about his time away, he’d brush it off and answer your question with another question. He didn’t seem to want to talk about what happened when he was gone or why he left at all. He came back to a married man, however, and Bessie was back in camp waiting for him. The two had drastically changed in character. The last time you saw them together they were very friendly towards each other, now they were very openly affectionate, going as far to call each other very cheesy pet names. It almost grossed you out.

The first night Hosea and Bessie were back, everyone partied. Even you did a little. You really just enjoyed having Hosea back, even Bessie too. It had made you reflect on the past year and a half. So much of your life changed. You lost your parents but gained several new ones. You had gone through a series of depressive episodes, but you were learning to cope with your grief and sorrow of your family and life. You’d be turning 14 this year, though your birthday was still many months away. As you sat around the large fire pit with everyone, listening to Hosea and Bessie retell parts of their journey home, you felt whole for the first time in what felt like months.

It was if Hosea’s homecoming that enlightened your soul or sparked some kind of hope in you. You looked forward to the next day, and the months to come, excited to see where Dutch and Hosea would take you next. The dark winter was finally over and you could live in the sun again, you hoped, and almost prayed that you’d be heading to the desert again. You could feel it in deep within you, good things were about to happen.

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dndeviants · 5 years

Text

Pieces of the Past- The first reward.

All of the motley crew walked over to the Blue Water Inn, save for Vasili, who had split off from the group to take Vargas to the stockade, and inform the townsfolk of what had happened.

Ireena and Ismark had been saved, they had a new ally in Victor Vallakovich, an ambitious young mage, rescued a man named Udo, who had run to the Cathedral after informing that there was yet another girl in danger, the missing Vistani child, Arabelle.

They knew that wolf hunters, Yevgeni and Szoldar had her, having been paid off by Izek to use as bait in the oncoming Wolf’s Head Festival.

With Vargas in bonds, Vasili split from the party to lock him in the town stockades and try to call the town to order, heading toward the square where the corpses of the thugs and Izek still laid. Terrified townsfolk whispered among themselves what this could mean, and wondering if Izek's death left them better off... or prey to something much worse...

They arrived at the Blue Water Inn, ready to investigate and find the missing girl before it was too late. Linda walked up to the Inn and opened the door.

Linda peered inside. The Inn was devoid of patrons. Nothing seemed suspicious to her, but she was on a mission to find and rescue Arabelle. Here was the best place to start.

She looked over and saw an obnoxiously dressed man: a young half-elf in purple and gold regalia with red accents thoughtfully nursing a mug of ale. The only other one in the Inn was the barkeep, a middle aged man with black hair and a neatly trimmed beard who was busy restocking wine and took only small breaks to write inventory.

Ruki walked into the Inn, noticing the half-elf immediately... It appeared that Rictavio, the doppelganger protege of Van Richten was still here in this timeline she had moved to... along with the wereraven Inkeep, Urwin Martikov...

She did not see the wolf hunters... but knew that both Rictavio and Urwin would be reliable sources of information.

"Hello," Linda walked up to the man in purple.

Aric and Jeeves sat at a table nearby.

The half-elf looked almost startled by her approach, but smiled at Linda. “Ah, hello there!” he cooed, “Come to hear of the tales and adventures of the great Monster Hunter, Rictavio?” He took a sip of ale, “I usually perform at six bells in the evening... but for you ladies...” he winked at Linda and Ruki rakishly, “I can make an exception.”

Linda raised a brow, skeptically, “Ah, monster... hunter?” She gestured to an empty chair in front of him, “May I sit?”

Not even waiting for him to reply, Linda sat in front of him. Ruki walked forth and spoke to him in Elvish:

“A monster himself is a monster hunter?“

Both Linda and Rictavio looked to Ruki in shock.

Linda looked to Rictavio, then to Ruki, “What?”

Ruki shrugged, “I was merely greeting him in Elvish.”

Linda was offended by such a bold-faced lie, “No. You weren’t.”

Ruki blinked in realization, “You... understand Elvish, Lady Linda?”

Linda spoke to her in Elvish, “I’m fluent, actually.”

Ruki spoke dryly, “So it seems...”

Rictavio made a dismissive gesture, "I certainly have no idea what you mean, my dear... surely you jest... I am very honorable, and have worked in the service of humanity all of my life... If you want to, I can regale you with the tale of the time I met a wererabbit... elusive, tricky creature..."

He made a brief gesture, and an illusory image of a white rabbit with long fangs sat on the table.

Linda knew no such creature existed, she held out her hand, "Yes, yes. Wererabbits... tricky... so what did she mean by ‘monster’?"

“Cut to the chase, bard,“ Ruki intoned.

Rictavio’s brows quirked in a nervous expression. He spoke quietly, dropping the facade, and speaking in Elvish, "So there's no letting that go, is there...? How did you figure it out?"

Rictavio squinted at Ruki, and then blinked, “Ah, a Vistana... I should have known... but... I swear I don't know you... how do you know me?"

Ruki smiles, “That would be a long story...”

"I am a comrade...” Linda flashed her holy symbol that indicated that she was a member of a monster hunting order, “I also am a monster hunter. And don't worry, I care not to share secrets."

Ruki nodded, “But right now, we need your help. My cousin is missing. She was taken by wolf hunters. Have any information on where they went?”

“Wolf hunters? You must mean Yevgeni and Szoldar... they do hunt wolves that get too close to the town, but recently they had been hired by Izek to transport a special kind of bait... they didn’t seem too keen on the idea of helping him, but Izek is Izek... speaking of Izek...“

He turned to face Linda and squinted at her. She felt a small tingling sensation, as she realized that he was reading her mind.

"He's dead?” Rictavio paused, “Gods, then that is what all the commotion is about..."

Linda nodded, "We killed him...” She turned to Rictavio, “And you're a doppelganger. I figured it out when you squinted."

Rictavio blinked and turned to Ruki, “I tried to keep it between the two of us, but she is smart...” He looked at them both, pleading, “I don’t want to hurt you ladies, but you if you know, then how soon will everyone else know? I wasn’t lying when I said that I was a monster hunter, you know. I have worked in humanity’s service! All I am here for is to find my uncle and Ez, and get the hell out before it is too late.”

“No one but us will know, you have a Vistana's word,” Ruki swore.

Linda held up her hands, "Look, I'm not here to out you. I have my own apprentice to find. Plus, I'm not like some other hunters. I have a good friend that is a doppelganger. I have no qualms with your kind that do their best to fit in."

Rictavio stared at them, and squinted, before relaxing, "Alright. Fine. I'll help you, you help me. Hunter's honor right? You are looking for a girl? I was wondering why that bag had a presence in it... Yevgeni and Szoldar have a cart in the stables, just on the back side of the Inn. You get there fast enough, you can tell them Izek's dead, and hopefully get them to cooperate with you."

Linda stood, "Thank you. Hunter's honor. I''ll be back."

“Thank you. If you are ever in need of a favor, you have Vistani support here,” Ruki rose and walked with Linda to the back.

Aric looked over to Jeeves, questioningly. He understood that they were all speaking in Elvish, but wasn’t fluent enough to understand. He switched over to his native Alzhedo:

“Jeeves, what where they talking about?“

Jeeves looked over to Aric, smirking. He was fluent in Elvish and overheard the entire thing. And there would be nothing that he kept from his master, “Well, you see...”

Jeeves explained everything to Aric in Alzhedo as Linda and Ruki walked across the Inn...

They went to the door and listened out to the stables, and overheard voices...

“- Iss not right! To blazes wi’ Izek!“

"And you know what's going to be in blazes if we defy Izek? Our houses, our families, Yev!"

"We don't have tah! We can take them an' run! What's he gon' do? Run inta the wolf ridden woods?"

They heard a muffled voice... a little girl... “Mmmm-hmmm!

Linda yanked the door open, "Good news. We killed him."

"I killed him...” Ruki stepped out from behind Linda.

A couple of rough looking men wearing wolf pelts startled and stared wide eyed at the intruders, reaching instinctively toward their bows and swords... On the floor of the stable was a small girl with raven black hair and wide blue eyes... Arabelle, Ruki’s cousin, was tied and gagged. She tried to vocalize at Linda and Ruki, but couldn’t say any words...

One of the men lowered his hand, "You... killed Izek?"

Linda nodded, "Yes, with a few friends, but he is good and dead."

Ruki walked over to Arabelle, “He never good to begin with, but dead he is.”

“Right. She’s all yers, then,“ the wolf hunters happily left them.

Ruki untied Arabelle from her bindings while Linda ungagged her.

Arabelle sighed, “I wasn’t doing anything wrong, just so you know! The burning guy grabbed me... and I told them that it was dumb what they were doing. But they didn’t listen to me! I bit the burning guy so they put a cloth on my mouth-” she smiled up at her cousin, “I knew you’d be here, Ruki!”

Arabelle stood up and rubbed her wrists, "I'm grounded, aren't I? I played too close to the town..."

Ruki shook her head, “No sister, you will not be grounded.”

“That’s a relief!“ Arabelle perked up.

Everyone was safe... Linda felt the urge for a drink to calm her nerves and relax after these hectic days. She sighed, “Let’s go back inside. I wanna drink.”

She turned and walked through the door, Ruki guiding Arabelle behind her. As soon as they entered the Inn, Linda walked over to the bar. Arabelle broke away from Ruki to run over to the bar as well.

Arabelle climbed up on a stool, and spoke to Urwin, “I need the hard stuff. You would not believe the day I am having.”

Everyone was stunned to see this little girl, no older than seven, asking the bartender for a drink. Ruki looked on in disbelief at her cousin.

“Arabelle!“ She cried out in embarrassed shock. She ran over to Urwin, “Give her some apple juice, please...“

Urwin nodded and pulled out spiced cider, pouring a glass for the girl. He handed it over, "Here you go. Be careful. There's a lot of cinnamon."

Arabelle nodded gravely and stared at the mug, as Ruki paid Urwin for the drink. Ruki looked over questioningly to Arabelle.

Arabelle lifted the mug, “And then you chug it, right?”

"Yes!" Linda blurted out in uproarious laughter.

Ruki gave Linda eyes full of daggers, before turning to her cousin, “Arabelle, that is not proper etiquette..” she made a gentle drinking motion with her hand to demonstrate, “You sip it... gently.”

The little Vistana looked to her cousin and rolled her eyes, “I am a child heir, not a princess!” she defiantly chugged her cider, sputtering and coughing with the strength of the cinnamon.

Ruki sighed and pressed her fingers to her temples. Arabelle was a handful.

Rictavio stood from his table and walked between Ruki and Linda. He pat Linda on the back, "So, uh... that was quick. You sure do find people rather quickly now, don't you?"

Ruki dropped her hands to her side and turned to face him, “Indeed we do.”

Linda bought a mug of wine, and sipped on it. "I have a knack for it,” she said. “Hopefully, I can find my apprentice."

Linda looked around the Inn and saw that Ireena and Ismark had settled in and were visibly more relaxed and much better. Victor too, seemed to be more open once leaving the mansion. Linda hoped she would settle down as well, relax, and refocus on finding Timothy. She had barely finished her drink before the door to the Inn nearly flew open.

She turned and saw Vasili, uncharacteristically frustrated. She set her mug down, and looked to him with concern.

Vasili walked over to his companions and folded his arms, “It’s hell out there,” he made a gesture of disgust, “These people are stupid and infuriating...”

Ruki nodded and sipped on her wine, “Welcome to Barovia, my lord.”

"Can't reason with them?" Linda asked in a gentle voice.

Before Vasili could answer, Aric voiced his disapproval, “A lord of your standing shouldn't be caught speaking of the citizens that way.”

Ruki laughed, “Master Aric, you have not had the pleasure of dealing with most of Barovia's populace.”

Vasili calmed himself, "I'm only an envoy, I have a lot more liberty to speak freely. And I can't help the truth. I'm just surprised there isn't an outright riot, but a few tomatoes seem to have mitigated the tension... for now. We need to find a replacement for Vargas quickly. This was all very impromptu, and I don't like the idea of having to be the stand in burgomaster of this town..."

Ruki raised her hand, “Allow me, My lord?”

Vasili sighed, “No, Ruki. I am afraid Madame Eva would not allow it... But it is tempting...”

"And why not you, Vasili?” Linda asked, “Also who is fit to be the new burgomaster?"

"Usually, that responsibility falls to the son of the burgomaster..." Vasili looked over to Victor.

Victor averted his gaze from Vasili and shrunk away from his stare.

Vasili turned back to Linda and gestured, “Victor is unfit.”

Victor sighed in relief, "Oh thank gods."

Linda folded her arms and shook her head, "Yeah.. I don't see you as a burgomaster..."

Victor turned to Linda, almost euphoric with relief,"Thank you!"

“The agreement was that I could not replace Lord Strahd...“ Ruki reminded Vasili, “I am simply asking for the title of Burgomaster.”

Aric nodded, thinking. He looked at Victor, “Well, you do have a point. There does need to be new leadership.” He gestured to the tiefling, “Ruki would be more loyal to Lord Strahd than the previous Burgomaster.”

Ruki sipped her wine, “Thank you, Master Aric.”

Vasili paused in thought, weighing his options. He conceded, "Lord Aric does have a point..."

Ruki set aside her mug, “Shall we put it to vote?”

Linda blinked in confusion, "Like the whole town?"

Ruki chuckled, “No no, just among us.”

Vasili held out his hand, "It would just have to be approved by Lord Strahd after being approved by the locals."

Linda raised a brow, "You're on vacation, Vasili. How are we going to get Strahd's approval?"

Linda was not too keen on getting Strahd involved with the process. She felt the less contact Vasili had with the vampire, the better.

Arabelle blurted out, "I'd vote for Ruki. She dresses the nicest."

Ruki held up her finger, “Shh. Let the adults discuss, Arabelle...” she turned back to the others, “I too am Lord Strahd's Envoy. I could get his approval.”

She turned to Vasili, and reached out to the man under the mask: Lord Strahd. Approved or denied, my lord? she asked him.

Strahd’s voice was clear and calm. I approve. But you need general support so you don't risk being overthrown.

These people overthrow me? Ha. Ruki found the idea laughable.

To everyone else, Vasili appeared deep in thought, "I could send a letter...” he offered, “...or just approve it myself... I mean, I do have a writ of authority. So I can make decisions on his behalf. And if he doesn't like it... then he can revoke my privileges."

Vasili shrugged as Ruki smirked.

Linda sighed. It would have to do.

"Alright, so who would be up for vote?" she asked.

Ruki gestured, “Myself or Lord Vasili.”

Ireena finally stood and offered her opinion, "Perhaps also someone that does have a better understanding of the people, and has been more or less trained for the position?"

Ruki raised a brow, “And who do you have in mind, Lady Ireena?”

Linda shrugged, "I was thinking someone who lives in the town. The people are more likely to vote for someone they trust. Unlike the envoys of Strahd... no offense."

Ireena paused, "Well either one of the ruling families that live here, or someone who can empathize with the people and actually can envision a better future for the people. I would volunteer. No offense, but Vasili's open contempt for dealing with people, and Ruki's... closed off personality... doesn't exactly make for good government. And I get that your jobs are difficult, but I think its just made you too bitter to see how scared these people are. All it takes is one person to stand up to tyranny like Vargas and Izek. I stood up. Everyone saw... and because you rescued me, I lived... and that would give them hope. If you entrust me with Vallaki, I promise, I could turn it around."

Ruki thought for a moment, and nodded, “I will concede and lend support to Lady Ireena.”

Vasili looked at Ireena, calculating. Finally, and reluctantly, he conceded as well, "Alright, if you are certain of this. Your father is well known here, and you do make good points. And Vallaki is relatively safe with its walls... But you need more public backing if you really mean this."

Linda raised a hand, "That does bring up a point that the people living here don't really know you. Only know of you. Who are the ruling families?”

"The Wachters,” Vasili answered, “The only boyars that live in Vallaki anymore."

Ruki gestured to Urwin, “How about the bartender? The people love bartenders.”

Everyone looked over to Urwin. He paused in his cleaning, and shrugged, "I'm neither here nor there about it. I see most of the town everyday and already hear most of their problems. I've just never been in a position to fix any of them... Just ease the hurt with a little inebriation."

Linda raised an eyebrow. Ruki may have just been delivering an offhanded comment but...

"That may work," said Linda.

Everyone turned their gazes to Linda.

Urwin was baffled, "Are you... serious?"

"Dead serious,” she replied, “These people know you. You know their grievances. I would bet you would get most of the votes."

Urwin paused, "I'll consider it... but there is something I need done before I can actually do it."

He took out a list of inventory, "If I step up to take the position of burgomaster, I have to step down from the position of Innkeeper, and I can't leave my poor wife Danika running the Inn when we are low on supplies... the Wizard of the Wines are a month behind in shipping. We need wine to run the Inn... If you can check on the rest of my family over there, and get the shipment back, I will step down from being innkeeper... and..."

Urwin pulled out a brightly colored band, "I'll even throw in this ring I found as payment."

Aric perked up when he saw the band... Jeeves’ eyes widened. They both recognized the ring as one of the Qysari rings they were after... specifically, the Annulus Conflagros.

Aric stood, eager, “I'm sure that will be no problem us. We can get your wine, check on your family, and be back as soon as possible.”

Urwin looked over to Aric with an odd expression, then nodded his relief, “Thank you.”

Linda stood, "I'm ready to go."

Ireena raised her hand, “Linda, it is getting late... we maybe have three more hours until sunset... if we have to leave Vallaki- can we please stop by the church first.”

Linda felt a pang of guilt for forgetting her promise, "Of course-"

"I wanna go home!" Arabelle blurted.

“Very well, I will take you back to Madam Eva...” Ruki replied.

Arabelle hopped off her seat and ran over to Vasili, “Carry me, uncle!”

“Arabelle, manners!“ Ruki cried out in exasperation.

Vasili smiled in amusement, and lifted Arabelle onto his shoulders, gently chiding Ruki, “There is no harm in it. You used to like doing this too, Ruki.”

Ruki blushed in embarrassment. Linda blushed as well, feeling strangely attracted to Vasili’s gentleness with the child.

She cleared her throat and nodded to Ireena, “We can all go,” she turned to the disguised doppelganger, "Rictavio, coming with? We may just run into who you're looking for."

Rictavio looked with distrust to Vasili, then smiled back to Linda, "Oh yeah! Sure! I will meet you at the church I suppose. I have stuff to pack in my room. I can talk to you more about my uncle later."

Rictavio retreated upstairs.

Victor hurriedly grabbed his spellbook, "O-o-outside town? For real? Oh gods... Finally!"

The skeletal cat seemed to purr in agreement.

Linda put her hands on her hips, "We will be coming back in- but yes, out of Vallaki."

Ireena pulled Ismark to his feet, "I think we should meet the Vistani this time, brother!"

Ismark begrudgingly stood, "Sure. Maybe there will be less trouble then..."

Ruki stepped outside and conjured mists for everyone to step through. A single moment passed, and when the mist cleared, they found themselves just outside the encampment.

The Vistani seemed unusually surprised at the arrival of visitors, but when they saw Arabelle on top of Vasili’s shoulders, the encampment erupted into cheers and swarmed up to the party, showering them with praises in Patterna.

Luvash stepped out of his tent to see the commotion, and paused when he saw Arabelle and Vasili. Vasili let Arabelle off of his shoulders, and watched her rush over to her father. Arabelle latched onto Luvash’s legs and looked down to her feet, apologizing.

“I’m sorry to worry you, Papa...“

Luvash fell to his knees and hugged her tight, growling, "Those giorgios should be sorry for laying a hand on you! I am just glad you are alright!"

Madame Eva emerged from her wagon, and gently prodded Luvash with her cane, "Don't you have something to give to them, Luvash?"

Luvash nodded and stood, holding on to his daughter’s hand. "Follow me to my treasure wagon," he commanded.

The party followed the man to a wagon that was adorned with vibrant paint. He parted golden curtains from the back and granted each of the party two hundred pieces of electrum, as well as a single book with tattered binding. It appeared to be... centuries old.

The handwriting was faint, but Linda could make out the title... I, Strahd... Her heart lurched. Was this the Vampire’s own journal?

Vasili seemed surprised to see the tome and turned to Luvash, accusingly, "How long have you had that?!"

Ruki played off her recognition. “It seems centuries old...”

Linda reached out her hands to hold it, her heart pounding, "Can I see?"

Luvash held his gaze evenly with Vasili as he handed the journal over to Linda.

Everyone gathered around her in curiosity. Ireena seemed stunned as she turned to her brother, “Wait... Ismark... doesn’t this look... familiar to you?”

"The writing matches the pages we found when we were younger!" Ismark exclaimed.

Victor could also barely contain his surprise, "Wait, you found strange book pieces too?"

Linda turned to them, her voice firm, "Let me see them."

They all took a moment to fumble through their belongings and hand Linda their fragments. A quick glance at the writing told Linda that they were all the same hand... but the pages were... illegible from being exposed to the elements.

"Yeah, these are from this..." Linda did her best to hide her discouragement.

Madame Eva hobbled over to Linda and gave her one final piece of the tome, then turned to Vasili, "Vasili will fix them for you... won't you?"

For the briefest moment, anger washed over Vasili- but the moment passed, and he barely smiled at Linda, “Of course... gladly...”

Vasili sighed and approached Linda, "I suppose I shall have to add the one I was entrusted with as well..."

He reached into his pack and removed a fragment that was in considerably better condition than the other pieces that Linda had. He took the other fragments from Linda and began to cast spells to restore the pages, the leather, the writing...

Before their eyes, the age vanished, the leather brightened, and the grime, soot, and mud faded into nothingness... But it was clear from the thickness of the leather, and the space between the pages...

That this was only half of the journal.

Linda raised a brow, wondering what could have happened to it.

Vasili held onto the journal for a bit, his expression conflicted. He reluctantly gave it back to Linda. Linda held on to the journal, and spoke quietly, “Thank you.”

Ismark peered over her shoulder, "Wow, it looks almost brand new... wait... this-” the title became clear for him to see, “this is Strahd's journal!"

Linda simply nodded.

Victor grew pale, "We-we were holding onto those things all this time..."

"We need to find the rest of it." Linda was determined.

Ruki folded her arms, “I suggest reading it to understand Lord Strahd a little better...”

Vasili spoke gently, "Please... keep in mind that this was centuries ago."

“I'm sure not much has changed...” Ruki smirked.

"How long have you had your piece Vasili?” Linda asked, gesturing to the group, “They found theirs when they were kids... so not too long?"

Vasili paused, "I've had it not long after the original was destroyed by Van Richten. I spent days painstakingly trying to find them for Strahd, and only found the one. It was... a few years before I adopted Ruki."

Linda looked over to Vasili, perplexed by his strange manner. She knew that he was telling the truth, but she definitely felt like she was missing... something. This was also the second time she had heard about Van Richten in this realm... Vasili’s behavior in regard to Strahd went into something a little too... obsessive for just a lowly envoy. He was hiding something. But she couldn’t tell what...

She squinted at Vasili, "I know you're hiding something... what I don't know yet."

Vasili looked to Linda, a little offended, "I have not lied for any of the questions you have asked me."

Madame Eva cackled, hobbling around on her cane.

Ruki made a dismissive gesture, “I am sure we all have something to hide...” she glanced to the side, “Especially Jeeves...”

Jeeves gazed with distrust to Ruki, unsheathing his shortsword slightly, "What do you know?"

Ruki was unfazed, “Nothing, that is my point.”

Linda asked Vasili, "How did you find your fragment? Where? Maybe we can pinpoint where the others are."

Vasili wrapped himself in his cloak, "At the base of Castle Ravenloft. I worked alongside his wolves, but only found the one piece before I ran into complications."

Still telling the truth, but still hiding something all the same. Damn, he was good at that. She pressed him more, "Complications, what happened?"

"I ran into a fanatic and decided it was better to escape with the fragment I had, than risk injury or death dealing with that unpleasantness."

Linda paused, "Geez. So Ravenloft, Barovia Village, and Vallaki... we should continue to look in the area for more."

Vasili sighed and seemed a bit discouraged, "Yes, more fragments... why are we searching for these fragments again?"

Madame Eva smirked, "Knowledge of the ancient will help you defeat your enemy."

Vasili glared, "And who exactly is the enemy here?"

Madame Eva shrugged, "That is for you to discover. You should have nothing to worry about."

Ruki raised a brow at Eva and spoke in Patterna, “And if the enemy is himself?”

Madame Eva nodded, and returned, "He is his own enemy. He needs to learn to trust."

Linda put the journal in her pack, "Never-the-less, any knowledge is good to have."

Ruki muttered under her breath, “Careful what you wish for Lady Linda.”

Linda turned to her party, "To the church? Then to the wine?"

Aric nodded, “I think that is the plan, yes.”

"Fare you well, and thank you..." Madame Eva called out. She watched the party leave, and sighed, turning back to her wagon, and climbing in. Her bones creaked and ached with the burden of centuries on her. She relaxed in her tent and poured herself a cup of tea.

Yes, he had to learn to trust again. He had come so close before... he could do it again...

She pulled out a card from her Tarokka deck... Mists...

It was always the Mists...

She saw a brief image in her minds eye... something a little too faint to make out now... only time could bring clarity...

But she had the distinct feeling...

There were things in the Mists... things that did not like it when their dominion over Time, Destiny, and Fate had been defied...

The consequences of her actions would soon catch up to her.

#story update #curse of strahd #dnd 5e #writing #linda tacklemeyer #aric rein #ruki von holtz

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foreverwayward · 6 years

Text

“Wayward Hearts” Season 2 Chapter 2: Everybody Loves a Clown

Summary: After the sudden death of John, Sam and Dean, along with Riley, continue their quest for vengeance. As Sam and Riley’s powers continue to grow, the three young hunters find themselves closer to the Yellow-Eyed demon than ever before. The strength within themselves and their loyalty to each other will be tested as they are left to fight their families’ lifelong war alone, unaware that unimaginable evil will lead them to face darkness itself as they carry the weight of their fathers’ legacies.

Masterlist

Word Count: 9,625

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

In the middle of the night, somewhere in the backwoods of Missouri, smoke seeped through the trees into the starry sky.

Still healing wounds remained on the Sam, Dean, and Riley’s faces. Bruises, scrapes, and stitches were only further, painful reminders of what they had lost.

The three stood around a large fire as they gave John Winchester his hunter’s funeral. He was wrapped in cloth from head to toe as his body laid on the pyre of wood that they had freshly chopped down.

The fire warmed their faces and the tears that fell from their eyes. It was completely silent beyond the sounds of the forest and the crackling of the fire.

Dean’s face was vacant as he stared into the flames. His eyes still welled until he could almost no longer see. As he blinked, a slow stream flowed down his cheek. Without John there to guide him, the oldest Winchester wondered if he could ever finish what his father started, or if he would ever be able to really let him go. John was more than a father to Dean--he was a mentor, a leader...a partner.

The doctors didn’t know what happened to John Winchester. The injuries he had sustained in the car crash were nowhere near capable of taking his life. He had been cleared only hours before his death. It was as though he just stopped breathing.

John had slipped away quietly and alone, just like his old partner had. The similarities did not go unnoticed by Riley. His and Jackson’s deaths were too alike to be a coincidence. There had to be a connection.

Sniffling, Sam thought of the last conversation he had with his father. It was one of irritation and disrespect as they had fought, just as they always did. He wondered if John really knew how much he loved him, if he knew that all Sam ever wanted was to be enough for his dad by just being himself. What pained Sam above everything else was that all those years or bickering and unmade memories with his father would haunt him forever.

As Riley’s hands sat in her pockets, she wished for a way to bring John back. She knew that the boys would never be the same. Even more so, she knew the unbearable agony that came with losing a father. The last time she stood before one of those fires, was to say goodbye to Jackson. Memories of his funeral flashed before her eyes, the pain just as fresh as it was that night. There wasn’t a day that passed that she Riley didn’t ache to have him back.

It was hard for Riley to give Sam and Dean their space. All she wanted was to hold them and tell them it would be okay. But she remembered how she was after losing her dad and knew it wasn’t her place to push it. They would come to her when they would be ready.

Riley sought after the switch in her mind to turn off her empathic abilities to the boys. Hearing their suffering would only make it more difficult not to rush to their sides.

In a way she blamed herself. She knew something was wrong with John before he died and yet she said nothing. Riley had decided to wait for a better time to discuss things, though that time never seemed to come. The guilt of it weighed heavy on her.

With a sniffle, Sam spoke to his brother, “did, uh--did he say anything to you? Before?” His still bruised and scratched face was wet from crying.

Dean's voice was flat as he mentally checked out. He held tightly to John's secret as a tear ran over his swollen lip. “No... nothing.”

Sam, Riley, Dean fell back into the quiet as they cried to themselves.

John was gone. The Colt was gone.

It seemed as if all hope had died and was burned along with the brave hunter.

------

Bobby sat in his study as he worked through anything he could find on the demon. He thoroughly went over all of John’s research over the last year and looked for a way to continue it.

Riley and the boys had been at the scrapyard for a week. Things were tense and somewhat awkward. Sam’s emotions had been up and down and Dean had put up a wall. He wasn’t handling losing his father well and refusing to feel his pain was the only thing keeping Dean afloat.

Dean had even created some distance between him and Riley. She wasn’t sure if it was just his grief, or if he was protecting her or if he was pushing her away.

Either way, Riley missed him. More than that, she ached for him. They slept in the same bed, though they may as well had been worlds apart.

Riley had decided to give him his space. But it was harder than she thought it would be. It would have been easier if Finn was with her. However painful though, Riley knew he was safer where he was back in Lawrence.

Grabbing her freshly poured coffee, she went onto the large white porch. The screen door creaked and slammed behind her. Riley leaned onto the railing and looked out into the sea of cars.

The hunters had sat still so much that past week that her mind was left to wander and overwhelm her. Even the nightmares had returned.

As she took a sip from her cup, she heard shouting in the distance. It was Sam. Riley put her coffee down and hurried down the steps towards the voice.

She found herself by the garage as she saw the brothers stand by the wrecked Impala.

Dean had been working on Baby tirelessly as a way to distract himself. He had rebuilt her from the ground up.

Sam was staring at his brother, holding nothing back as he yelled. “Don’t patronize me, Dean,” Sam scolded. “Dad’s dead, the Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this.”

“What do you want me to say, Sam?”

“Say something, alright?! Say anything for Christ’s sake!” The young Winchester was tired of not dealing with their problems and he had to let Dean know. “Aren’t you angry? Don’t you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here buried beneath this damn car!”

Dean looked apathetic as he interrupted, his words still dripping with disdain. “Revenge, huh? Sounds good. So, you got any leads on where the demon might be? Any of you making heads or tails of Dad’s research? ‘Cause I sure ain’t. And when we find the son of a bitch--oh, wait. Like you said, the Colt’s gone. But I’m sure you figured out another way to kill it, right?” His voice changed and he grew stern. “We got nothing, Sam--nothing. The only thing I can do is I can work on the car.”

Riley took the awkward silence as a chance to join them. Her arms were folded with her eyes cast down as she took her time reaching the brothers. “She’s looking good,” she told Dean. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you’d like.”

“Thanks, sweetheart, but I think I’m good for now.”

She nodded and feigned a closed mouth smile.

“Well,” Sam said trying to break the tension, “now that we’re all together, I found us something.” He pulled out a cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through it. “It’s one of Dad’s old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this.” Sam put the phone on speaker as the others gathered around it.

The tone sounded. As a voice came through the phone, it was that of a woman. “John, it’s Ellen...again. Look, don’t be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.”

“That message is four months old,” Sam added.

Dean looked surprised. “Dad saved that chick’s message for four months?”

Hunters almost always immediately deleted any trail on their phones. It was safer that way and made it harder to be tracked.

“Well, who’s Ellen? John ever mention her?” Riley asked.

Sam shook his head. “No. No mention of her in his journal either. But I ran a trace on the phone number and I got an address.”

Riley and the youngest Winchester waited for Dean’s response. They knew there would be no going unless he was on board.

“Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars,” he answered as his eyes squinted to hide from the sun.

------

The loaned blue with brown paneled minivan screeched and smoked from behind it. Dirt from the lot Dean drove over kicked up around them. An old windmill sat in the middle of the quiet property next to a phone booth. There was a large sign reading ‘Harvelle’s Roadhouse’ that sat at the top of a small wooden building. It looked old and almost abandoned.

As the van parked, it rattled under the hunters.

Dean smacked the steering wheel in frustration. “This is humiliating. I feel like a fucking soccer mom,” he added in annoyance as they all got out.

“Hottest soccer mom I ever met,” Riley smiled. She got a small smirk from Dean in response. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

As Sam walked towards the entrance, he replied, “it’s the only car Bobby had running.”

“Hello?” Riley yelled as she and the brothers searched for any sign of someone else. “Anybody here?”

Shrugging, Dean opened the screen door and went to pick the lock. With ease, they were quickly able to get inside.

It was a bar. Everything seemed to be made of wood, even the floor. Planks of wood made up the walls and random odds and ends hung on them. The air was somewhat stale, yet smelt of the familiar smell of whiskey and spilled beer. It was mostly dark, except for the light that broke through the curtained-up windows. Empty glasses, bottles and shot glasses were littered across the untended bar.

Towards the back, sat a pool table. A man was laying on top of it, sound asleep.

“Hey, buddy?” Dean called.

Riley gave a look of sarcasm. “Huh. Well, I’m guessing that’s not Ellen.”

Splitting up, the team looked for clues or anyone else they could find. Sam and Riley went into the back towards the kitchen as Dean checked the bar.

As he walked around alone, Dean suddenly felt something hard being pushed against his back.

He was caught off guard and closed his eyes in a fake prayer. “Oh, God, please let that be a rifle.”

The rifle to his back cocked. “No, I’m just real happy to see you,” a woman snarked. “Don’t move.”

“Not moving--copy that.” Dean put his hands up in surrender. “But you should know, when you put a rifle on someone, you don’t' want to put it right against their back. ‘Cause it makes it real easy to do...” he turned around swiftly and grabbed the weapon from her hand. Dean discharged a shell from it. “...that.”

Before he could say anything else, the woman’s fist connected with his face. Dean yelled for Sam and Riley as he stumbled. She took the gun back and pointed it in his direction. “I need some help in here, guys.”

“Sorry, Dean,” Sam came out from the back with his hands on his head and Riley did the same at his side. An older woman held a pistol in their direction as she guided them out. “We got a little tied up.”

Finally getting a moment to look, the three stared at the women who had them at gunpoint. The youngest was a long-haired blonde and was actually quite beautiful. She was thinly built, though obviously had a tough demeanor. The other woman that had brought in Sam and Riley, looked like an older version of the blonde, only with sandy hair. Her voice matched that of the one on John’s voicemail.

“Sam and Dean?” the older woman asked? “...Winchester?”

“Yeah,” Dean groaned as he held his aching nose from the punch.

“...son of a bitch,” she whispered.

The younger woman looked her way. “Mom, you know these people?”

“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” There was a moment of silence where Sam, Riley, and Dean waited to see what would happen. The woman laughed as she put down her gun. “Hey, I’m Ellen. That’s my daughter, Jo. But I don’t believe we’ve met...” Ellen said looking at Riley.

“Riley. Riley Munroe.”

“Jackson’s girl,” Ellen scoffed. “It’s a damn reunion in here. I haven't seen you since you were a toddler.” There was a pause as she tried to find the right words. “We were all so sad to hear about Jack’s passing. I’m sorry, Riley.”

With a small smirk, Riley acknowledged Ellen’s sentiment. “Thanks.”

Jo had gone behind the bar to fetch some ice for Dean’s nose.

When she handed it to him, he sat down on a stool and looked at her with trepidation. “You’re not gonna hit me again, are ya?” She chuckled as she went back to cleaning the bar. Dean looked to Ellen, “you called our dad, said you could help--help with what?” He held the ice wrapped in a dish towel to his face.

“Well,” Ellen trailed. “The demon of course.” The three looked at each other, taken back. “I heard he was closing in on it.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Dean looked over at her. “Was there an article is ‘Demon Hunter’s Quarterly’ that I missed? I mean, who the fuck are you? How do you know about all of this?”

“I just run a saloon, but hunters have been known to pass through now and again--including both your fathers a long time ago. They were like family once.”

“Oh, yeah? How come he’s never mentioned you before?”

“...you’d have to ask him that.”

The room went quiet. She didn’t know about John’s death yet and no one really wanted to be the bearer of that news.

Skipping over the comment, Dean went on. “So, why exactly do we need your help?”

Ellen’s tone changed. She was annoyed with Dean’s attitude. “Hey, don’t do me any favors. Look, if you don’t want my help, fine. Don’t let the door smack your ass on your way out. But John wouldn’t have sent you if--” As if she had put two and two together, she stopped and her face fell. “He didn’t send you.” Ellen waited for a response and a lump grew in her throat. “He’s alright, isn’t he?”

“No,” Sam answered with a heavy heart. “No, he’s not. It was the demon we think. It uh--just got him before he got it I guess.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Dean didn’t want to keep talking about John and turned to her trying to end it with a quick thank you. “It’s okay. We’re alright.”

“Really? I know how close you and your dad--”

He interrupted her with an almost stern tone. “Really, lady, I’m fine.”

Feeling tensions rise, Riley spoke out from her spot off to the side as she leaned against the wall. “Look, Ellen...” Her voice was soft. “You said you could help us. Honestly? We need all the help we can get.”

“Well, we can’t,” she replied. “But Ash can.”

“...who’s Ash?”

“Ash!” Ellen shouted.

A startled whine came from behind them as they all turned. The sleeping man on the pool table could barely get up and knocked the balls as he stumbled awake.

“What?” he yelled completely disoriented. “Closing time?”

Pointing over to the hungover man, Sam asked, “that’s Ash?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jo nodded. “He’s a genius.”

As he stumbled to meet the others at the bar, Dean retrieved John’s research and dropped it on the counter in front of him. He was irritated as he studied Ash. The man had a mullet and the back of his hair went nearly halfway down his back. Cheap tattoos were on his upper arms that showed from the cut-off sleeves on his plaid shirt. Ash had an awkward demeanor and a face to match with a single earring in his left ear.

“You gotta be freaking kidding me,” Dean snarked as he tried to contain his language. “This guy’s no genius. He’s a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.”

Ash found the hunter amusing and chuckled. “I like you.” His voice was kind of raspy with a mid-western accent.

Riley joined the rest of the gang at the bar. She knew she would need to be a buffer for Dean while he was dealing with everything. They weren’t going to get anywhere with him biting everyone’s head off. “This file is everything John got on the demon in the last year. Can you tell us what you think?”

Taking out a large stack of papers, Ash flipped through them. “C’mon,” he started. “This shit ain’t real. Ain’t nobody can track a demon like this.”

“John could,” Riley reaffirmed. She looked up to see the Winchesters looking at her, pleased with her answer.

“These are non-parametric statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations...I mean damn. They’re signs--omens. If you can track them, you can track this demon--you know? Like crop failures, electrical storms. You ever been struck by lightning? Well...it ain’t fun.”

“Can you track it or not?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, with this? I think so. But it’s gonna take time. Uh--give me...” Ash seemed to do calculations in his head. “51 hours,” he stated matter-of-factly. He collected the papers and got up to leave.

“Hey, man,” Dean called. “By the way, I dig the haircut.”

“All business up front,” Ash flaunted as he flipped his hair, “and party in the back.”

Sam and Riley looked at each other and chuckled lightly under their breaths. As he turned, he noticed a folder sitting near the bottles of liquor. “Hey, Ellen, what’s that?”

“Uh--” she went to retrieve it and brought it to Sam. “I was gonna give this to a friend of mine, but take a look if you want.” The folder had a newspaper clipping paper clipped to the front. Handwritten on the cover was ‘Couple murdered. Child left alive. Medford, Wisconsin.’

Riley had found a chair at a table to sit near Jo as she cleaned up tables. “I gotta ask, Jo, how did your mom get involved in all this stuff?”

“My dad, actually. He was a hunter.” Jo paused. “He passed away.”

She could feel the sadness coming from Jo, like an old scar that never quite healed. “I’m sorry.”

“I was just a kid. So, it’s been a long time. I’m sorry to have heard about your dad.”

Taking a deep breath, Riley asked the question she knew only Jo might know the answer to. “Does it ever get easier? Them being gone?”

Jo feigned an obviously fake closed mouth smile. “No. I wish I could say it does, but it doesn’t.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid you were gonna say.” Riley looked over at Dean still sitting at the bar. He was alone and quiet as his hands sat clasped together with his eyes down.

“He okay?” Jo asked.

Almost reminiscent of Jo’s earlier response, Riley looked back at her. “I wish I could say I knew, but I don’t.”

“He’s actually kinda cute. I don't think they’re together. He seems pretty distant.”

Stumbling into Jo’s thoughts, Riley snapped her head back in her direction as the blonde gave her a smile.

Jo was right. It wasn’t obvious that they were together. Things had been different since Dean lost John.

“Riley, come here,” Sam called. “Come check this out.” Getting up, she went back to the bar and Dean found a seat close to them. He went on, “a few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of--looks to me like there might be a hunt.”

Knowing that they all needed something to take their mind off the past week, Riley looked towards Ellen behind the bar. “Well, then I guess we’re gonna go check it out.”

------

Shortly after they had left the Roadhouse, night had fallen over Wisconsin. The rain poured down on the minivan as they drove down the highway.

They found themselves in a powerful storm. Lightning flashed in the distance ahead of them as the sound of drops slapped against the metal and windows.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean started. “A killer clown?”

“Yeah, he left the daughter unharmed, but killed the parents--ripped them to pieces actually.” Sam held a flashlight over the file of paperwork as he went over it with his partners.

Riley found a way to wiggle up between the two front seats from the back. “The family was at some carnival that night, right? Maybe we’re just talking psycho dressed as a clown?”

“Yeah, the Cooper Carnival. And I don’t think so. The cops have no real leads and all the employees were tearing down shop--alibis all around. Plus, the girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air.”

Making a face of discomfort, Riley looked over his shoulder at the clippings. “Fun case, Sam.”

“Well, I know what Sam’s thinking,” Dean said to Riley. “’Why did it have to be clowns?’” He looked over at his brother with a teasing look and smirked.

Riley chuckled. “What'd you mean?”

“Sammy’s been scared of clowns since we were kids. The guy still busts out crying whenever he sees Ronald McDonald on the television,” he laughed.

Annoyed, Sam scoffed at his older brother. “At least I’m not afraid of flying.”

“Planes crash, dude!”

“And apparently, clowns kill,” Sam rebutted knowing he’d won that argument.

Trying to stifle a laugh, Riley kept it to herself as best she could. “It’s alright, Sam. Clowns are unholy creatures. I’ll agree with you on that one. No one is that damn happy all the time. It’s not natural and flat out creepy.”

“Thank you,” he emphasized as he looked at Dean. “At least someone gets it.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Alright, so these types of murders--they ever happen before?”

“Uh--file says 1981 with ‘The Bunker Brothers Circus’. Same M.O.--it happened three different times, three different locales.”

“They definitely still could be connected. Maybe it’s a spirit. And if so, maybe it’s not bound to a specific place, but a thing. Cursed object?” Riley was always gifted when it came to putting things together. It was something her father had taught her well. “It attaches itself to something and the carnival just carries it around with them.”

Sam made a face of being pleasantly surprised and nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Awesome,” Dean added in a fake tone. “A paranormal scavenger-hunt.” Taking a beat, Dean turned to his little brother. “Why did you take this case by the way? You were awfully quick to jump on this job.” Sam looked back at him confused. “It’s not like you, that’s all I’m saying. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt.”

“I don’t know. I guess--taking this job? It’s what Dad would have wanted us to do.”

The sound of the pouring rain was all that was left as the three hunters went silent on their drive down the road.

------

The van garbled to a halt as they had finally reached the carnival grounds. Two clowns stood talking to two clean-cut men in suits.

“Check it out,” Dean said. “Five-0.” He unfastened his seat-belt as he opened the door. “I’m gonna go see what’s what. I’ll be back soon.”

Sam and Riley got out of the car and slammed the doors shut. Almost in sync, the two found their jacket pockets and rested their hands.

Putting a hand to block the sun from her eyes, Riley watched Dean walk away.

The young Winchester turned to look at her as they walked over to the side of one of the rides. “You okay?”

Almost snapping her out of a daydream she replied, “huh? Oh...yeah. I’m good.”

Sam scoffed with a smile. “And why don’t I believe you?” He paused. “It’s because of what’s going on with Dean, right?”

Riley sighed. “Yeah. I just--gotta be patient. That’s all.” They leaned against the metal railing. “He’s dealing with a lot.”

He nodded. “He loves you. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Riley turned her head up to look at the hunter. “The whole thing just friggin’ sucks. But I’ll be here when he’s ready.”

Dean made his way back over to his family. “Alright, so two more murders last night. They were ripped to shreds and they had a little boy with them.”

“Who fingered a clown...” Sam said, innocently not realizing the innuendo.

Riley and Dean looked at him with discomfort and awkwardness.

“What?”

“...gross, Sam,” Riley joked.

He rolled his eyes.

Dean tried not to chuckle. “Yes, a clown. Who apparently vanished into thin air.”

“Dean,” his brother started, “finding a cursed object? That’s like finding a needle in a stack of needles. I mean it could be anything.”

Stepping in front of the two, Riley added, “well, it’s gotta give off some EMF reading, right? So, I guess we just scan everything.”

“Oh good,” Sam chuckled. “Because that’s not inconspicuous at all.”

Dean turned to see a ‘Help Wanted. Inquire with Cooper’ sign on a nearby tent. “Guess we’ll just have to blend in.”

Giving each other a look of concern, Riley and Sam followed Dean inside.

An older man in a black suit wearing sunglasses stood on a wooden box. He flung large knives at a target, never missing a bulls-eye.

“Excuse me.” Dean moved closer to the stranger. “We’re looking for a Cooper. Have you seen him around?”

Taking off his sunglasses, the man revealed his fogged over, blind eyes. “What is that? Some kind of fucking joke?”

“Oh...oh, god. I’m so sorry.”

“You think I wouldn’t give my right kidney to be able to see Mr. Cooper, or a sunset, or anything else for that matter?”

Dean turned to the others. “You wanna help me out here?”

They tried to control their laughter as Sam pinched his lips together. “Not really.”

“Hey, Barry,” a voice said from behind them. “Is there a problem?” The man was about half the size of Dean. He was in a blue and white starred leotard and had a sequenced cape over his shoulder with a club in his hand.

“Yeah,” Barry replied. “This guy hates blind people.”

Chuckling nervously, Dean looked back at the knife thrower. “No, I don’t. It’s just a little misunderstanding, that’s all.”

The shorter carnie seethed. “Little? Oh, you son of a bitch.” He went towards Dean aggressively as he raised his club.

In a panic, the hunter went on the defensive. “No, no, no! Could somebody please tell me where Mr. Cooper is?” Riley and Sam couldn’t take it anymore and laughed. Still scared things would escalate, Dean pleaded, “please?”

As Riley’s laughter trailed off, she heard faint laughter as if coming from a distance. It was a sinister cackle that brought chills up her spine. What perplexed her even more was that the sound wasn’t coming from the carnival around her.

Riley’s telepathy had kicked in. There was something nearby, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out where.

------

Mr. Cooper led them into a small trailer. “You guys picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat.”

The three looked down at the available chairs. There was one basic wooden one, a tattered leather covered metal one, and a chair made to look like a clown.

Riley and Dean scurried over to the normal looking seats. Sam was forced to take the chair that made him beyond uncomfortable.

Covering her mouth, Riley hid a small snicker at her brother’s hesitation and awkwardness to sit.

“A couple of folks got themselves murdered in the area. Cops always seem to start here first.” Adjusting himself in his seat, Cooper looked at the hunters. “So, you three ever work the circuit before?”

“Uh--yes, sir,” Sam replied. “Last year through Texas and Arkansas.”

“Doing what?”

Not knowing the right answer to give, the young Winchester answered, “a little bit of everything, you know?

Mr. Cooper didn’t buy the ruse for a second. “You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?”

“Nope,” Dean admitted without hesitation. “But we really need the work. Oh, and uh--Sam here’s got a thing for the bearded lady,” he laughed.

“My daddy was in this business too--used to run the Freak Show until it was outlawed in most places. Apparently, displaying the deformed isn’t dignified. So, most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That’s progress, I guess,” the old carnie shrugged. “You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts, always has been--for folks that don’t fit in nowhere else. But you three?” Mr. Cooper eyed the young hunters. “You should go to school. Get married, have 2.5 kids. Live regular,” he said sternly.

“Sir,” Sam leaned towards the desk, “we don’t want regular and we don’t want to go to school. We want this.”

------

Riley looked up at her brother as the three walked away from the trailer. The dirt beneath their boots crunched as they went on. “Sam, did you mean what you said back there? Do you not wanna go back to school anymore?”

“I don’t know, I think I might be having second thoughts about it.”

“Really?” Dean asked in surprise. “I thought you would drop all this and go back to Wussy State once we handled the demon.”

“I just--I feel like Dad would have wanted me to do this--to do the job.”

“Since when have you given a fuck about what Dad wanted?” Dean snapped.

“Since he died, okay?” Sam looked at him in almost a challenge. “You have a problem with that?”

Dean scoffed. “Nah. I don’t have a problem at all.” He walked ahead of the others.

Riley took Sam’s arm in comfort as he leaned into her and they slowly trailed behind.

------

Carnival music played as people crowded through. Holding stuffed animal prizes and an assortment of junk food, the park visitors enjoyed themselves. Screams of fun came from the rides around them.

Sam and Dean had been put on garbage duty. The red windbreakers they wore as a uniform read, ‘Cooper Carnival On-The-Go’. The two walked aimlessly through the park on opposite sides.

After going through a Fun House that made Sam way too nervous for a hunter, to check for EMF, he called Dean.

“Hey, man,” he said nervously and almost out of breath.

“What’s the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown,” Dean chuckled.

“Haha, very funny,” his little brother replied in annoyance. “So, I was thinking, what if the spirit isn’t attached to a cursed object? What if it’s attached to its own remains?”

Dean brow went up in curiosity. “What made you think of that?”

“There was a skeleton in the fun house.”

“Wait, like a real skeleton?”

“No...still got me though,” Sam said almost ashamed he had been so jumpy.

“Alright, I’m headed to you.” Dean hung up and headed through the crowds.

Barry, the knife thrower who already had a grudge with the oldest hunter, grabbed him by the arm. “What are you doing here, kid?”

“Uh--just cleaning up.”

“Bullshit. We don’t like outsiders. We take care of our own problems.”

“Do we have a problem?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Dean checked around to make sure he was out of earshot before whispering to the old man. “...you believe in ghosts?”

Taken back, the carnie asked in surprise, “what?”

“Me and the others I came with? Uh--we’re writing a book about them.” After a few minutes of lying through the conversation, Dean finally made it to Sam.

“Dude, what the hell took you so long?” Sam asked.

“Long story. Where’s Riley?”

Sam pointed behind them to a booth. She was smiling and helping kids throw ping pong balls into fish bowls.

Riley threw her hands up and cheered as a little boy won.

“Makes sense. Cooper knew what he was doing. She’s too cute to be picking up garbage.” Dean’s voice lacked the excitement and luster it once had when he talked about her.

With an annoyed scoff, Sam looked at his brother. “What the fuck is going on with you, Dean?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have this incredible girl that’s head over heels for you, for reasons I’ll never understand. And you’ve been pushing her away. You used to be all over each other and this last week? It’s like you’re afraid to look at her.”

“Look, Sam. My relationship is my relationship. Let me worry about what happens between me and Riley.”

Sam sighed. “Well, you better figure it out, and soon. Or you’re gonna push her so far away you won’t be able to get her back.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. Turning back towards Riley, he noticed she caught his glance. She forced another smile in his direction.

He knew his brother wasn’t wrong, but his head was all over the place. Dean would talk to her when he was ready.

“Mommy, a clown!” a little girl yelled.

The brothers turned in her direction.

The mother looked around. “What clown, honey? There’s no one there.”

“He disappeared.”

Unsure of what to make of what her daughter had claimed to see, the woman went to turn her the other way. “Come on, sweetie.”

------

After their shift, it was already dark. The hunters followed the family home in their rickety van. Their house was small, quaint, and well kept. The green lawn looked freshly cut and flowers lined the front of the home.

Sam, Dean, and Riley parked across the street and watched the mother and daughter head inside.

“Dean,” Sam said with a sigh from the back seat. “I cannot believe you told that guy about the homicidal phantom clown.”

“Uh-uh. I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real.” Dean pulled out his shotgun to load it with rock salt rounds. “Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brother’s Circus in ‘81 and their evil-clown apocalypse. And...” he drug out. “Before Cooper worked for Cooper Carnivals, he worked for the Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager.”

Riley shifted in her seat to look over at her boyfriend. “So, maybe Cooper brought whatever the clown was attached to with him.”

“Yup.” Dean looked over at the family in the large front window. “I can’t believe we keep talking about clowns.”

------

Riley, Sam, and Dean had been on their stake-out for a few hours and the lights in the house were all off. The couple both had fallen asleep in the front seats against their windows while Sam sat alert waiting for any sign of movement.

Suddenly, there was a light on in the main room of the home. The young daughter walked through in her pink pajamas.

“Rye, Dean...” Sam patted them both to wake them as they too turned to look.

Without hesitation, they all grabbed their weapons and ran for the front door. When she was the first to reach it, Riley pulled out her kit to pick the lock. Within a minute, they were in.

In tactical team fashion, the hunters split up and waited in the shadows. The little girl came walking down the hall as she held the hand of the clown, his bells jingling with every step.

Its face was painted white with a red smile though his mouth stayed in a frown. Under a faded stocking cap, it had bright red curly hair. The onesie it wore was old and worn with polka dots and a large white long collar that wrapped around its neck.

"Want to see Mommy and Daddy?” she asked. “They’re upstairs.”

Once the clown was in a perfect position, Riley grabbed the girl and pulled her to the side as Dean shouted, “hey!”

The little girl screamed in fear of the strangers and as the oldest Winchester fired a shotgun shell into the clown’s chest.

The creature hit the floor and laid still for only a moment before beginning to get back up.

Dean reloaded as he saw the clown rush in his brother’s direction. “Sam, watch out!”

Sam dodged its charge in time for it to rush past him.

The creature flew through the glass door as it shattered. It let out an inhuman, maniacal scream and disappeared.

Both parents ran downstairs to the noise as the father yelled, “what’s going on?” Seeing the hunters, his voice was filled with panic. “What the hell?! Who are you?! What did you do to my daughter?”

“Mommy, Daddy, they shot my clown,” the girl cried.

Quickly, the trio sprinted back to the van as they escaped the angry father.

------

Unloading the minivan, the three had parked it in a secluded and covered area off some quiet road. Dean gathered the gear and Riley took off the license plates. Sam searched the car for anything they’d forgotten.

Riley grabbed her tools and put them back in her bag. “Better safe than sorry. Not sure if they caught our plates or not.”

“Good riddance,” Dean huffed. “I hate this fucking thing.” The family closed up the van and slung their bags over their shoulders before trudging down the old road. “Well, one thing’s for sure. We’re not dealing with a spirit. That rock salt hit something solid.” He turned to his brother. “You find anything in Dad’s journal?”

“Nothing useful,” Sam replied.

There was a moment of silence. The only sound around them was that of the insects in the abandoned fields around them.

Riley held on to her backpack with her eyes down. Things were too tense, and she needed to focus to keep her mind from wandering into the boys’ emotions; not to mention the thoughts running through her own head at a mile a minute.

Watching Dean in the hospital had nearly killed her. Riley only had him back for a brief moment before everything came crashing down around them. Dean was right beside her and yet she still missed him--missed how they were, who he was.

Sam pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open.

“Who’re you calling?” she asked.

“Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know something that can help us. Hey,” he paused. “You think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?”

“Oh, god,” Riley scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “Sam, I was trying not to think about my own father possibly with her.”

He laughed. “I don’t know. I mean why did they never mention her to us?”

Dean was still disconnected and his tone showed it. “I don’t know, maybe she and Dad had a falling-out.”

“You ever notice John had a falling out with a lot of people?” Riley smirked.

Both of the brothers nodded in agreeance.

“Well, don't get all maudlin on us, man,” Sam looked Dean.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it’s bullshit.”

“Oh, god,” Dean exhaled. “Here we go.”

“I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

“You know what, back the hell off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

“No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, alright? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

Riley felt the emotions change from frustration to anger in the blink of an eye. Intervening would only make things worse. She stayed a step behind them as she breathed through it. Dean was about to lose it.

“Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay, okay?!” he yelled. “I swear, the next fucking person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!”

They stopped walking as Sam turned Dean. “What are you talking about?”

“I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, ‘oh, what would Dad want me to do?’ Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you--you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him for Christ’s sake. And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry Sam, but you can't, it's too little, too late.”

Taking out her bottled water, Riley took a sip and closed her eyes. “Focus. You can only control it if you focus.”

Sam’s face looked nearly brokenhearted. “Why are you saying this to me?”

“Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death!” Dean’s eyes widened as he shouted loudly. “Are you?

Riley ran a hand through her hair. All she could do what watch the two most important people in her life struggle to grieve for their father. She could feel every bit of their pain if she just let go and it was too much. The worst part about her empathic abilities was not being able to fix the hurt she knew others were in.

There was a hard lump in Sam’s throat as he grappled with the guilt he felt for how things ended with John. If he stayed there any longer, he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Dean’s words had cut him like a knife.

“I’m gonna go call Ellen,” Sam uttered.

Stepping up closer to Dean, Riley just looked at him. She was almost angry for how he spoke to Sam, but it still wasn’t her place. Her eyes looked hurt and lonely as she turned to head down the road, leaving Dean by himself.

He took a long breath realizing he may have over-done it with his little brother. Dean was too proud to admit that he didn’t know how to deal with the loss of John. Dean couldn't confide in either of them the secrets he carried that weighed heavy on his every step.

Keeping those he loved at a distance was what was best for everyone, or so he thought.

------

Further on down the road, Sam wrapped up his phone call. “Alright, thanks, Ellen. Talk soon.” He flipped the phone shut. “Rakshasa”

“...uh--bless you?” Riley said sarcastically.

He laughed under his breath. “Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited.”

Dean held onto the strap of his bag with his duffel in the other. “So, they dress up like clowns and the children invite 'em in.”

“Wait, then why doesn't the thing just eat the kids? Not that I’m suggesting that it should.” Riley’s legs seemed to work overtime as she kept up with the two tall hunters.

“No idea. Not enough meat on the bones maybe? But I guess Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects.”

Making a face of utter disgust, Riley looked up at Sam. “Lovely.”

“Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism, I guess.”

“Well, that makes sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81,” The older Winchester added. “Hey, guys, who do we know that worked both shows?”

“Cooper.”

Riley was uncertain. “Eh, I'm not so sure. I didn’t get a vibe, ya know?”

“You could’ve missed it--it happens,” Dean shrugged.

She had had enough for the time being and huffed as she walked ahead. Riley’s little legs tried to put some distance between her and her boyfriend.

“What’d I say?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “She’s trying to help, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just saying. We gotta be sure.”

“Right. Whatever. Anyways, legend says the only way to kill it is with a dagger made of pure brass.”

“I might just know where we can get one of those.”

As they trudged on, Sam watched Riley ahead of them. The tension between him and his brother was enough. But to watch it build between Dean and Riley as well only made it all that much worse.

------

Dean thought Barry would be their best bet to find a brass knife and they knew they had to check Cooper’s trailer.

After forming a plan, the team split up. Riley believed in her gut that it wasn’t Cooper and they would just be wasting their time. So, trusting her instincts, she decided her time was better spent talking to the blind carnie. Besides, she needed some breathing room. Riley was never one to bite her tongue, but she was trying so hard to be patient with Dean.

Riley found the old man and he guided her to his dressing room as his walking stick swung ahead of him to guide him along. “You know, I have a lot of knives, but I’m not sure if I have a brass one, sweetheart.”

“Well, I appreciate you checking for me, Barry.”

“Of, course.” He led her inside. The walls were cheap plank wood and the grey carpet was worn. Barry’s suits took up part of the side of the room along with his vanity station. The carnie tapped on a wooden trunk by the door with his stick. “Check the trunk.”

Riley crouched down to open the green trunk. It was cold and had brown leather straps to hold it shut.

When she opened it, the laugh Riley had heard when they first came to the carnival echoed in her head. That same chill ran up her spine as she saw the same tattered and dirty onesie with polka-dots that the creature wore. The curly, red wig sat beside it.

She was right. It wasn’t Cooper--it was Barry.

Riley’s head snapped in his direction as she stood. “You?”

The man’s stick dropped and he removed his sunglasses. “Me.” A Cheshire Cat-like grin grew on his face that would haunt any child’s nightmares. His eyes changed to a strange and creepy glow as he waved at her in a sinister manner before disappearing.

Hurrying to the door, Riley found the knob had been locked. She shook it and tried to break the door down, with no luck.

The laughter returned and she felt an eerie presence.

Riley turned to look behind her just as a knife flew in her direction barely missing her face. “Oh, shit!” she exclaimed. Knives continued to fly through the air and into the door around her.

Knowing she had no other way out, Riley tried to bust open the door with her shoulder. Again and again she rammed the door. “Join the circus, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.” When it wouldn’t budge, Riley groaned at the new pain in her arm and grew frustrated.

She took a step back and gave a hard donkey kick to the door before it finally busted it open. Being smaller than the boys made hunting so much more difficult, but Riley would be damned if that’s what stopped her.

As she ran out and back towards the carnival grounds, she ran past the Winchesters.

“Hey!” Sam called.

Riley hit the breaks as she stumbled to stop herself so quickly. She turned back to face them.

“Oh, hey,” she replied as she caught her breath.

“So, Cooper thinks Dean and I are peeping Toms, but it isn’t him. You were right.”

“Well, as much as I love hearing you say those words, Samuel,” Riley started with an ornery tone. “I don’t think we have time to dwell on it. It’s Barry--the blind guy. He’s still here somewhere.” She looked at them between frantically searching around them. “And no, no brass blade. Just been one of those days.”

“Are you alright?” Dean asked.

Not realizing she was connected to Dean, her thoughts went through to him. “Oh, suddenly he cares.”

His face scrunched in surprise. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Riley’s eyes grew a little as she realized he had heard her.

Luckily, Sam interrupted. “I got an idea, let’s go.” He led the way as the others followed and they ran in the direction of the Fun House.

The entrance was the mouth of a large clown that poured out blue fog as they scurried up the ramp. It was dark inside and the room was filled with neon-colored glowing doors. Some were mirrors and other were actual doors. It gave the illusion of infinite possibilities.

Having been there earlier though, the Sam knew the way as he went through the right door. But before his partners could follow him, the door slammed shut.

Dean banged on the door, “Sam!”

Riley could hear that same familiar evil laughter. “Guys, it’s here!”

“You guys gotta find the maze,” Sam yelled from the other side.

The two turned in the opposite direction to find another door.

Heading down the only path available, Sam walked on. He saw the organ that he had come across on his first trip through the Fun House. That was what he came back for--its pipes were brass. The other hunters had finally found another way to Sam as he was trying to pull off one of the pipes. He looked back to them as he pulled. “Where is it? Did you see it?”

“No. Nothing,” Dean replied looking around. “I mean, shouldn’t we see his clothes walking around or something?”

At that same moment, a knife whisked in Dean’s direction. The blade nearly missed his arm as it pinned his canvas jacket to the wall. Another two flew immediately after, securing him in place.

“Dean!” Riley yelled as she went to him. Though she used all her might trying to free him, the blades still wouldn’t budge. She grunted and fought against whatever was holding them there.

Finally, the Sam had broken off a pipe and armed himself. “Where is he?!”

“I don’t know! I can hear him, but it’s in my head, not around me!” Riley looked around for another option. She spotted a lever that was connected to the pipes through the rooms. Pulling it, steam was released, and it clouded the space. Riley immediately went back to trying to free Dean.

Looking up to his brother, Dean could see the figure of something moving through the steam. “Sam! Behind you! Behind you!” he shouted.

Heading Dean’s warning, Sam spun around and thrust the brass weapon in front of him. With a thud, it went into something solid.

A figure appeared through the smoke as soft, glowing yellow eyes flickered. There was a screaming growl that erupted from the creature as it faded away.

As if the Rakshasa’s death had released a magical bind, Riley could finally remove the blades from the wall and Dean was freed. She turned the lever she had pulled before to turn it back off.

When the couple ran to Sam, they all looked down to the ground. There, in a pile laid the clown’s costume. The brass pipe had cut through them and the creature was gone.

Dean struggled to catch his breath. “I fucking hate Fun Houses.”

------

The Roadhouse was much livelier than their first visit. Other hunters had blown into town and sat cleaning their weapons at the tables. The sound of the jukebox played in the background.

Sam and Dean sat at the bar as Ellen brought them beers. Jo leaned on it beside them.

“You boys did a hell of a job your dad would be proud.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied. He was busy in his own world as he thought over everything. Hopefully, Ellen’s words were true and he did do right by his father.

Jo cleared her throat. “So...”

“So?” Dean took a sip from his bottle.

“Am I gonna see you again?”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be coming back at some point or another--yeah.”

She could see her point was being missed. “Maybe then we could, I don’t know--spend some time together? Get to know each other?” Jo’s voice was soft and flirty.

Dean chuckled. “Uh--look, I don’t know if you know this, but...Riley and I, we’re kind of a thing.”

Jo was taken back. “Really? Wow. I never would have guessed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. you don’t seem very close is all. There just doesn’t seem to be a spark.”

Turning on his stool, Dean saw Riley leaned against the jukebox. She was looking for a good song while she sipped at her beer.

Dean half smiled as he faced back to the bar. “There is. There really is.” His eyes found Jo. “I love her. It’s just...complicated right now.” He turned the bottle in his hands.

“It’s okay, I get it,” Jo sighed. “Well, I hope things get a little less complicated for you.”

“Thanks, Jo.” Dean’s mind seemed to disappear into a rabbit hole as he nursed his drink.

Ash came through the back door with John’s research folder and a laptop. “Where the hell have you guys been? I’ve been waiting for ya.”

Riley smiled at the ridiculous man. “We were on a job, Ash--evil clown.”

“Clowns? What the fuck?” he asked in repulsion.

She laughed with her lips around the bottle of her beer as she drank. “You got something for us, Ash?”

Ash set up on one of the tables nearby and sat down and the others gathered around. His laptop looked rigged and definitely had been tampered with to enhance it. “Well, the demon is nowhere around--at least nowhere I can find. But if the fugly bastard raises its head, I’ll know. I mean, I’m on it like Divine on dog dookie,” he chuckled.

Sam looked unsure. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off, like a fire alarm.”

With a scoff, Sam asked, “Ash, where the hell did you learn to do all this?”

“M.I.T., before I got bounced for fighting.”

Riley’s eyes grew with a smirk as she looked at Sam before replying, “M.I.T.?”

“Yeah. It’s a school in Boston.”

Sam and Riley tried so hard to contain their small, stifled laughs.

“Okay, give us a call as soon as you know something?” Dean added.

“Sí, sí, compadre.”

Dean smiled as he downed the last of his beer. The three stood and nodded as a ‘thank you’ as they began to head out the door.

“Hey,” Ellen called. “If you kids ever need a place to stay, I got a couple beds in the back.”

“Thanks, but no.” Dean smiled softly. “I got something I gotta finish.”

Ellen smiled back as the hunters left.

------

It was warmer that day in Bobby’s yard. Dean’s sweat showed through his shirt as he worked on Baby again. The hubcap squeaked as he tightened it.

Sam had wandered out into the yard to find his brother.

“You were right.”

Dean looked up at him as he stood to walk around the car. “About what?”

“About me and Dad. I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him. So, you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late." Sam’s lips trembled as his history with John overwhelmed him and his voice broke. “I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not alright. Not at all.” Tears formed in the hunter’s eyes as he tried to fight them. “...but neither are you. That much I know.” He paused looking at Dean. The older Winchester’s jaw clenched, though he said nothing in return. “I'll let you get back to work.” Sam turned around and headed back for the house.

Riley had been working on a car of her own nearby to pass the time. She knew there may come a time when she would need some space and she wanted to be prepared. It was also soothing for her. Jackson and Riley worked on cars together all the time. It helped when she missed him.

When she heard Sam talking, Riley went over towards him. By the time she got there, he was already walking away. She stood by the garage and rubbed the oil off her hands onto a red cloth. Riley looked at Dean and could see the hurt he was feeling. If only he would let her in, she knew she could help.

Taking a deep breath, Riley was building up the courage to go over to him. As she did, Dean picked up a crowbar and smashed the window of a nearby car in a rage.

Riley stopped as Dean stared at the Impala. Squeezing around the bar, he slammed it down with all his might into the back of the car. Riley covered her mouth as she gasped in shock while Dean continued to wail on the trunk. It chipped, bent, and broke under the assault.

The crowbar clanged on the ground as Dean dropped it. His breathing was ragged and he shook in anger. He tried not to cry as his emotions consumed him.

Dean turned around only to saw Riley by the garage and caught her gaze. She waited to see if he would ask for her to come to him as there was a pause.

After a moment, Dean ran a dirty hand down his face and turned to walk away.

A soft cry escaped Riley's mouth. She had shut out Dean’s pain intentionally so she could try to give him space. But there was never a moment she didn’t know he was hurting. Watching him explode on the one thing Dean had left of John was enough to break her heart .

Riley’s back found the wall nearby as she slid down it. Her knees sat in front of her chest and she wrapped her arms around them to comfort herself.

With a final wave of emotions, she hid her face and sobbed. She wept for it all; John, the Colt, their failure, Sam, and Dean. Riley missed how their family had been before the crash, before they lost John.

It was moments like that where she remembered why she never dated. Being too close to someone was nothing but heartache.

------

S2 Chapter 3: Bloodlust

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northernjulian · 7 years

Text

"Lucidity Roses"

LUCIDITY ROSES ルシディ・ローゼズ

Dedicated to:

This poem, project, and visual representation of mental growth & beauty is dedicated to someone I miss dearly and think about everyday. My best friend Jaedin A. She helped me get through everything. From my first heartbreak, to my first day of suicide watch in the hospital. She was there. From crying over being abused in a relationship to crying over being locked in a hospital room. She was there. As I write this dedication with tears falling down my face like that day let it be known that I would not be here today. Mentally, and physically if it weren’t for this person. It’s nothing simple like I got an injury and she stopped the bleeding therefore she “saved my life” shit. It’s more like I couldn’t find my own injury but she stopped it from hurting by just being there with me. No matter the situation. Whether it was when I was 1,500+ miles away or just inches away she helped me push through everything that would’ve broken me. Thank you so much for existing in my era. Xox

This piece is heavily inspired by Jenny Holzers ‘Truisms’ poem. Her diverse yet obvious stanzas created beauty by the things we see and hear everyday. Basic knowledge formed together to create a intricate puzzle like piece that allows the mind to gain an insightful view. Thank you Jenny. Alongside being dedicated to my best friend Jaedin it is dedicated to those who did me wrong. Sorry to kill your vibes but no one can bring me down no matter how long they try. With all love and no hate <3 -Julian

WARNING

This is art. This is real. This is raw. I speak my mind and express everything I see and understand. This ain’t some politics-free Facebook post. Not wanting to argument with family members shit. I’ve been blocked by family members for the things I’ve said. My aunt blocked me after posting pro-black lives matter messages on my Facebook. Apparently not wanting to see my half blood brother on the news is too offensive. Wanting justice for innocent people was “too much”. Putting bad cops in the system they avoid was “too excessive”. If you can’t respect my existence or my families and friends then fuck you. This country has been hypocritical since the day it was founded, but overtime new laws and such have been put into the system yet they still treat us like the cameras ain’t recording, like the wounds ain’t showing, like the pain ain’t growing. So realize that this piece isn’t some school assembly script. This is raw and uncut like Trumps Twitter minus the fact that I’m not a damn idiot. Also while reading this piece you have to be in touch with the other side. By that I mean you have to be relaxed and at peace. Plug in headphones, white noise machine, open the window, do what you gotta do to be ready to see instead of just read. It’s like a deep song with curse words in it. You can’t listen for the words, you have to listen for the meaning. If Van Gogh painted Starry Night in an art class no one would fully appreciate it for the way it was meant to be. Art is three dimensional and up. It can be seen from many sides. Although all of them can be justified, when the artist explains what his two dimensional view of the piece is you gotta just sit back in amazement. The whole time I was writing this I had that mindset. This my canvas mindset. Knowing that each stroke on the white surface has to be better than the last. So here is my piece. My canvas. I hope you enjoy and understand.

Here is “Lucidity Roses”

— america is the biggest terrorist threat not isis all lives matter movement is a fictional movement anatomy is important for love astrology isn’t a science arian advantages are my disadvantages america escaped tyrannical governments only to become one abortion isn’t murder amendments have been broken atheists are people not afraid of death aberrant people are the future able bodied people are the most lazy abolish our current government abrasive people are common absolutism is always a bad idea abstemious people are annoying absorption of countries kills cultures acquaintance is a rude way of saying relationship adeptness is underrated altruism is key for humanity apathy controls our motivations astronomy is observable and beautiful amassing is dangerous anonymity people keep the truth alive aflame is the best way to describe America right now aptitude lovers are real aridity is rising

beautiful mornings happen everyday borders don’t stop shit branding runs capitalism blue lives matter is equal to all lives matters blue people don’t exist bernie should’ve won bravery comes in many forms bruce becoming caitlin was important for this generation baby boomers blame everything on anyone younger bombs are never precise boys don’t cry, men do tho bitches aren’t women bad bitch isn’t a compliment babies show us life in it’s pure form baptism doesn’t save every child of god baptism didn’t keep me holy bottles ease the pain boredom is a first world problem bacteria is everywhere germaphobes being called something besides your name is great blonde was album of the year black lives matter buying expensive things have repercussions baffling is trumps best and only skill burning the flag doesn’t help anything basketball is the best sport

crying in the rain feels good creativity is the key to a new world conspiracy theories aren’t reality cherry blossoms are natures physical form of love condolences are appreciated cancer can be stopped censorship stops art ceasefires never truly cease fire cultures are not to be mocked colors all have meaning codes control our superficial social media currently waiting for closure classical mythologies were once religions civilizations never disappear fully cobain was murdered ceasar once ruled the world callisto needs to be explored carbon dioxide emissions are real cherokee are the toughest natives christmas is definitely the most wonderful time chickenpox in america wasn’t an accident cold war was the scariest war columbus didn’t find shit captain avery was a genius camo clothes are never out of fashion crucifixion is over the top

dark nights only make brighter days death penalty is overpriced depression is real denying science and facts gave us trump don’t argue with science devil dances to inner city anthems death lurking in my thoughts lately da vinci was the closest thing to perfection drake runs our generation dogs are impossible to hate divinity is possible in our form diamonds are perfection doomsayers don’t enjoy their life dormant volcanoes are relatable dancing is art dinosaurs exist despite being held back we succeeded desperate people are the most sick different place this planet is nowadays dying is overrated dust shows authenticity dyed my hair for this rebirth defense is a form of offense dreams mean something doing thangs for myself deities exist in us

“every night fucks everyday up” emptiness is a curse everyone is beautiful in their own way exercise is a reliable stress reliever eagles are sacred earth deserves better easter island disappeared electromagnetism control our sense of direction extinct species show how precious life is endorphins are off in my mind epicenter disasters happen in our minds too egyptians had the smarts of unearthly creatures einstein got sad over things he didn’t understand too errors in our ways are to be fixed not ignored effective ways to love vary on the person elsewhere exist on our minds equality is bullshitted in our world eventually everything falls endings are emotionally exhausting efforts mean everything egos are killed by assholes education isn’t always important for a better world eternal life happens when you love life ethnic cleansing still happens today ethics are not negotiable eyes perceive more than the physical

fuck trump by the way fires burn inside flowers are unreal football is a life damaging sport “faults break into pieces” freezing points are breaking points futura is a great font fonts are key pieces for expression focusing isn’t something gained through pills fallacies run our political system futuristic ideas were once sci-fi ideas finding love is very important fire was once considered magic freedom isn’t real in america fresh fruits are being created as if they were artificial for the last time the earth isn’t flat fascism exist in our america fuel exist in many forms feminism is needed for this generation fake love is true evil false prophets are average humans fables are more than just cute fake news doesn’t exist only inaccurate news faithfulness isn’t difficult when you aren’t an asshole fanatics are just passionate, not crazy feedback is appreciated

guys can be pretty too generalization is the key to all problems global warming is real great barrier reef is almost gone gothic art is the realist art gambling is the currency form of lust geniuses exist in many fields generosity can go a long way geometry is the simplest form of math ghost exist giggles are always nice glaciers are separating glaring is rude girls glisten glitter beauty is magical goddesses are women goals should always be pursued go all out with anything you get some time for yourself gain respect towards those who hurt from things you can’t see great wall didn’t stop the mongols good people exist gasoline isn’t worth killing people over goodnight messages mean a lot good morning messages mean more gestures mean more than words

hells exist beyond our minds health care should always be free heavens exist in our minds hesitation kills motivation highly favorable people were once underrated homophobia isn’t real, being an asshole is homosexuality is just as natural as heterosexuality hogs represent rich people houses aren’t homes unless they’re made into one home is where the love is highlights of life are everything without a price high beams on a dark road how do some people live with themselves? hidden in plain sight things are extraordinary hello starts every conversation height is superficial hierarchy only worked for the pharaohs hire the unfavored heels shouldn’t be a beauty standard heavens gate is no different from christianity heavens gate is a religion hashtag save our girls happiness has me believing i made heaven harassment is cruel to humanity hardly anything is real anymore help is never too far away

i feel like pablo making my own art i’m just human isis doesn’t represent islam imperialism is the reason rome fell imperialism is the reason we shall fall immigrants made america i’m sad as shit when i’m alone i can also be happy as shit when i’m alone i see race i just don’t care about it internet is overrated and superficial inferior things are not always the problem invasion of foreign countries is never reasonable ice cream is good for the soul ignorance isn’t a bliss illogical facts are “alternative facts” illumination of the mind is inspiring imagination is the only drug we need islam has no relation to terrorism impossible is only a word infuriating people lead to a dumber generation infallible beliefs are close minded inhabiting foreign lands ruined cultures informing is not insulting innovation is suppressed in our world instincts are always right intelligence is uncommon

jim jones was the furthest thing from the messiah jesus was brown jean-michel basquait was our van gogh just kidding isn’t an excuse for your assholeness jealousy ruins more relationships than actual issues jewels aren’t worth the killing judges have sympathy journalists can be bias joy is a great feeling justice is failing in america judging others is natural jungles need protection jades are the perfect shade of green jewelry is a classism statement journey around the world if you can jump into new things don’t be scared jokes keep the sadness at bay jumble things are sometimes more beautiful than neat things jaunts are good for you jigsaws relate to our lives justifying racism is impossible judaism is the most neglected religion join the cause jackson was killed by a doctor jerichos’ horn is heard all around world just wondering if i’ll make it in life

keep thinking positive things and they will happen killing for peace is a hypocritical phenomenon kings never end happily ever after kind people are the most beautiful keep your family close knowing isn’t always understanding kkk is a terrorist organization kids bring the family together kanye is a smart man keep yourself your number one priority kissing is just as addictive as drugs kahlo is the best artist ever karma will get you kaitlin lives forever keep the bullshit away kaleidoscopes sparked my creativity kd betrayed his team keep it real keep the faith kepler telescope watches the heavens kepler-452b is our last resort kgb tactics are still in use kick back and get dreamin killing the innocent happens too often killing by accident happens too kidnapping is the worst crime against humanity

loving and sex are two different things legends never live life is a clusterfuck love doesn’t have a gender loneliness craves company lying is an insult to ones morality les brown motivates me lucidity roses is my canvas lucidity roses is life lust for life losing is better than not trying living shouldn’t be bordered by rules lying is an insult to yourself leaving incompetent people isn’t wrong or bad loving those who others don’t is perfect let go every once and awhile laws shouldn’t be bribed lawyers shouldn’t defend sick people lurking gets us hurt lies formed history last night stories are the best lately i’ve been feeling sad lyrics always have deeper meanings last doesn’t always mean something bad lines divide us like paper layoffs are necessary for a new world

majorities blame their problems on minorities mind over matter meditation is a mental workout mental injuries are worse than physical ones make america united again make your dreams a reality men don’t understand motherhood motherhood is a connection like no other “my eyes had a gleam once” my intentions are always good, my actions aren’t always tho meddling in others relationships is disrespectful mexico is a beautiful country manipulated by our politicians managing friendships is tiring morgues show us life after death minerals are running low mindsets vary on time sets marrying just to cheat is unacceptable and wrong mothers are responsible for our nurture vs nature thinking missing people who hurt you is ass-backwards “might've” has no meaning in the present masculinization insults the free spirits makaveli escaped to cuba magna carta is the way of the people mask show more than the person behind it medications should be free mcdonalds runs america

nothing happens for a reason nights with the person you love is better than anything nothing is as intimate as love never have i or will i say “president trump” narcissism got me through my depression nihilism is the truest religion ‘no more parties in la’ nobody pray for me! no means no never think about the past names always deserve a deeper meaning narrow minded people are ruining our country nikes is perfect natural beauty is the perfect form of art news stations are almost always biased nirvana is close by.. nagging gets you nowhere nowadays people aren’t living in the now newcomers deserve respect newcomers deserve recognition nazism is still active in america north is the main direction never love someone you wouldn’t wanna wake up with narcotics control the banks nasa deserves better never judge something you don’t understand

our system is corroded ousting exposes jealousy outfits describe our personalities overnight love is the best ocean needs protection oceans display vibes omitting happiness is brighter than any rays omega is more dominant than alpha order is tyrannical orgasms vary oracles saw illusions odd problems can become the most dangerous ones mental state is a number one priority oak is the most refreshing wood obligate yourself to everything you love oblivion exist only if you open the portal to it oblivious people are the loudest only illegal humans are those who manipulate the public our greatest internal struggle is wanting what we give old white people should have no say on racial issues obliterating countries doesn’t solve problems obnoxious people are common occasional personal days are necessary off days are the worst days offer yourself to the ones you love old times are gone, forget them

past civilizations were more advanced than current ones peoples temple was a suicide group political corruption runs our system police gotta stop killing us pro-black isn’t anti-white philosophies vary on mindsets philosophers were once seen as irrelevant picassos’ rose period is my life season political parties are for small minded people politics separated my family permafrost love is gonna be a visual perfect people only exist when you become in love with someone pesticides are just as bad for humans than bugs push through the tough shit pulling someone closer is a form of intimacy purple is a sexual color purest forms of intimacy are decided by lovers please love someone before you leave this planet peaceful protest are always manipulated by fox news party whenever you can for however long you can pretty isn’t a girl only word panama was split for financial reasons peaks are the top of our lives pastor keeps the followers with hope paparazzi got no respect please don’t stop living

quit slut shaming sexually active people quit calling every female a bitch quality over quantity all the time questions without answers are possible quiet people are a blessing quotes were unappreciated at their time qualm thoughts are stressful quantum mechanics are the future qualified people can still be stupid queens don’t need kings quickly doing things is sloppy quicksand is the physical metaphor of depression quilts are comfortable canvases quixotic love is the best love quizzing us on things we don’t know is irrational quotation marks aren’t needed for the words you say quran isn’t evil quran is equal to the beautiful quarantining sad people is cruel quarantined orcas need to be freed #fuckseaworld quite a few good things in life we don’t appreciate quitting is never the answer quit fucking with people who don’t care for you queer isn’t an insult question everything you don’t understand quasars represent underdogs

reverse racism isn’t real respect your elders those who respect you roses show more beauty than we can comprehend “respect existence or expect resistance” rest in peace selena respect for women shouldn’t be gained through knowing one remember the good days every chance you get real friends make time for you release week was dope reality is distorted raw art is the truth we need ranting proves you can think random compliments are the best compliments reading puts you in another world reducing stress is impossible in our world refusing facts isn’t always because ignorance remember that you matter runaway with the person you love runaway is also a perfect song, thanx kanye roses are red roses aren’t dead riding with your friends is peaceful reintroducing people is lovely radiation levels are unnatural radical ideas are barbaric rapist don’t deserve a casket

“special shoutout to the icon dynasty slip and slide records” science is the forerunner of every subject self control is a uncommon blessing support planned parenthood support stem cell research sexism is at an all time high sadness has me believing i belong in a sanitarium sexual fantasies are normal scientist don’t lie, politicians do stop being scared secrets are esoteric seducing has to be wanted school makes me feel stupid sadness dissipates when we begin to live smoking kills shea made me sad shan made me happy strong people exist satanist aren’t bad people say no to *bad* drugs seeing old friends is refreshing sad and mad emotions ruin lives safe sex is rare saints were once sinners sinners were once saints see what i’m saying?

tranquility is achieved through our minds the meaning of life is happiness thank you for the inspiration frank o. tupac is still alive for me the world is ours taste of lips is a drug the only thing we need is love tattoos tell stories that words can’t “to die without leaving a corpse..” thank the universe or your deity everyday “torture is barbaric” the day is as only as bright as you make it tired is a real excuse for not doing things trading your soul for something always ends bad trendsetters aren’t original treat everyone you meet with respect trying to educate the ignorant is pointless tattoos at a young age show defiance tattoos don’t look gross when you get older tips are small but meaningful today is the beginning of a new life. timid people are usually the brightest tacky clothes are fun tell people how special they are tell your deepest secrets to no one take it easy

uncles’ are usually pieces of shit..lookin at you lencho using someone for sex is inhumane ultimately what defines us is our actions, not words u is the saddest song ever umbrellas are cliché understanding someone helps them get better unfortunately we can’t stop time under pressure we can sprout unite the world together again unlikely doesn’t mean impossible unless you’re dead nothing can stop you unusual organisms see us as unusual too urges can be handled uplift everyones spirits unnamed sources are the realist sources untruth the lies using the system to beat it is smart unnecessary comments don’t have to be necessary upload your experiences update your friends as much as possible urgent care is a sad place universe is in us us is nice to say uttering words isn’t always the best idea urban legends are fun to read about until we stop fighting we’ll never start loving

violins are the most beautiful instrument vibrant things give me happiness videotapes are ancient versatile mindsets are necessary very important people are not strangers with money vikings found america vivid dreams are future scenes vaccines don’t cause autism voice your opinion no matter where you live volume never seems loud enough version one is draft like vintage art is overrated verbal abuse is the worst versions show both sides view life differently vote based off personality not political party valleys are scary versace is godlike voices are deceiving vaults are examples of paranoia vice versa situations are just normal situations very good people are always unheard of veterans shouldn’t be veterans venture into the wild visit family as much as you can versus the world

would trump let jesus in our country? women deserve better “wishing things away is not effective” quote jenny we face the inner struggle of the penitent and impenitent thief war on drugs is a waste of time and money wes lang is the descendant of basquait women can hurt men too whiners can’t be choosers winning is just as scary as losing wearing all black is beautiful wanting what you can’t have is cruel would you like you? wishing for the best holds back the best watching people be themselves is interesting why do they keep killing us? when’s tranquility gonna reach us welcome new people like family weddings are a form of art why questions will never be answered why are we here? why do we battle things we can’t see? why do good things happen to bad people? why do bad things happen to good people? why is there a why if it can’t be answered? willpower is yours winning is the only option

xenophobia is wrong not matter how trump puts it xenophile is a lover for high class things xerophytic people are the strong yet depressed humans xanax are for those sad people xeriscape was created for another dustbowl xerothermic weather isn’t normal xenobiotic compounds are even antihuman xerophile organisms are relatable xenogeny is the creation and start of life xat have spiritual energies xenocide is happening to our own species xenoepist think you’re a xenoepist xenomorphs exist xeronisus happens when you don’t love that person xickovit of this country xox means a lot to me x’ing out the bad people like tic-tac-toe xanthippe was the opposite of socrates xenial countries are declining xenocracy founded america xenophobia is runs our country right now xenophobic is like homophobic, so it’s not real xanax are bad for you xenophiles need to know their boundaries x marks the spot xoxo

you don’t have to be in love to make love yelling should only be for sports events years pass like the seasons year-round happiness is important yikes at our country yearbooks shouldn’t be the only time we appreciate each other yearning is a sin but an understandable one yearlong relationships are rare yellow is the most vibrant color y chromosome organisms have no right over double x organisms y chromosome doesn’t excuse being disrespectful yellowstone is gonna explode soon yes is all you need to hear for consent ying yang symbol is life in simple terms yogism is the purest philosophy you can’t expect the unexpected your only priority is you you’ll never know what someone else is going through you are loved you are noticed you are always on someones mind you deserve better you can succeed you can inspire you will be happy you are you

zenith empires eventually fell zero was created by the mayans zodiac signs are bullshit zygotes show us how related we are zeal mindsets are important for our generation zelo was nikes brother zeal mindsets can be dangerous zero first world problems are important zuckerberg made billions off our generation zirconia isn’t diamond zero hour is the best time of the day zeta is an unearthly letter zev (zero emission vehicles) were the future zigzagging down a dark road zika needs to be defeated. zionism fucked over jerusalem zodiac killer was found zoos’ need to be more natural zebra stripes are mesmerizing zealous juries can free the criminals zaddy turns no one on zoning people out is risky zombies is who our voting system was built for zoetropes still amaze me zero stars show in the daytime zero people can talk shit about me now —

Everything in this project has meaning. Everything. I would stay up til the early hours of the morning just thinking and trying to tell my story while correlating it with symbols and clues. Notice how there is every letter in the alphabet on here twenty six times? That was a tribute to Holzers style she had on “Truisms”. Notice how every letter is lowercased? Also a tribute to Holzer. The cover art, hand drawn by the way, the cover is a skull with three roses coming out of it. Those three roses represent the three loves of my life. From best to worst going left to right. The words above them show what they gave and introduced me to. Love, lust, and lorn. All of these things are apart of life. The three emotions we all are controlled by in life. The three things that can break us from ourselves. That’s why the skull is there. After all those things I had to endure I felt nothing but dead inside. On the outside it was visible too. From the days my mother would ask me what’s wrong to the days I would break down at school. It was visible. I seemed dead on the inside. They say nothing is as dry as the bone, but I found a way to push through. My rebirth allowed me to show the world I am still here. After my battles with love a rose grew, after my battles with lust a rose grew, and even after being beat down and almost held away from the light that helped me grow, a rose grew from lorn. I am still recovering from these three things. The roses vary in stages because of this. Lorn was the most impactful on me hence why the rose is the smallest of the three. It is taking time to heal from these things, but I am reborn. Three things that have claimed my last three years. From the day after middle school ended where I was in my room all day crying because I never took a chance at shit to the first day of suicide watch. These are my past lessons. This is my life. Thank you all for allowing me to fully expose this. I hope that this can inspire you to become the best you. I hope this can inspire you that no matter how crazy, lonely, and heartbroken you feel you’re never alone on this crazy ride we call life. Thank you very much. Xoxo -Julian

P.S – Three is my lucky number

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