#SORRY I AM DECEASED AFTER WRITING THIS. PLEASE COME TO MY FUNERAL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slaylinski · 4 years ago

Text

5 Times Something Almost Happened And 1 Time It Did

Pairing: Sam x Bucky (AU) 5+1

Word count: 8704

Warnings: angst, major character death (mentioned), grief, miscommunication, Sambucky can be absolutely idiots sometimes, mutual pining, fluff, happy ending

Prompt: Sam and Bucky are obviously in love with each other, but each secretly thinks the other is the boyfriend of their recently deceased friend (Steve) and that they should respect the bro code.

A/N: So, I recently saw that prompt on IG and since there is no fanfiction out there that covers that I decided to write one myself. Prepare yourself for some misunderstandings, angst, grieving and sambucky fluff!

btw, shoutout to @januarystears and @gwen-novella for being my beta reader and emotional Marvel supporters🥰💕

Please be aware that English is not my first language.

Bucky was looking at the tombstone in front of him, still not able to process what happened the last few days. Steve Rogers was his childhood best friend. He remembered them being 5-year old’s trying to steal some of the cookies his mother had baked; he remembered Steve calling him at 3am on a Sunday, crying and telling him about his mother‘s car accident, the one that had made him an orphan. He remembered his parents not even hesitating for a second before they took Steve in.

And now Steve was gone. And everything Bucky had left were a few memories that were already starting to fade.

Since his parents were dead not many people came to Steve’s funeral. A few friends he had met in Chicago, Bucky’s family and of course Sam Wilson.

After he and Steve had finished college, Steve had gotten an amazing job offer in Chicago and since Bucky had decided to stay in New York, they had had to adapt to not being able to see each other every day. They had still managed to see each other monthly, most of the times Steve coming to New York, since Bucky’s family, meaning Steve’s family, was still in New York as well. And every time they had visited each other Steve had talked about Sam. Every damn time. Bucky had felt like he already knew the other man. Obviously, he had been happy that Steve had found a boyfriend in Chicago.

Since Bucky was bi and Steve had been gay, they had had a few first times together. From having their first kiss with each other to some things he was not going to mention here. They had tried to make their relationship work, but ultimately decided they were better off as friends. Since then they had not really talked much about their relationships. The only thing that had mattered to Bucky had been that Steve was happy and the way he had talked about Sam had made Bucky realize that he had been happy.

“You okay, man? “ Bucky looked to his left and stared into a pair of brown eyes.

“Yeah, I am okay," he said quietly, which was far from the truth. He still could not believe that Steve was dead.

“I am Sam, Sam Wilson," Sam introduced himself to Bucky, which made the latter chuckle. “Yeah, I already know that. Steve talked about you, a lot," Bucky tried to smile but his eyes were still focused on the tombstone in front of him.

“You know, it is a shame that he never introduced us," Sam said.

“It really is, but I feel like I already know you from all the stories Steve told me about you. I am glad he had someone in Chicago who took care of him. I am sorry for your loss," Bucky felt terrible. He felt like he could not breathe, like drowning but not being able to swim to the surface.

“I am really sorry too, Bucky," Sam whispered. Bucky barely remembered the next few hours. They went to the Barnes house for a funeral service. He saw his sister Becca who tried not to cry but miserably failed, he met his parents’ eyes. His mom was silently crying, and his dad wore sunglasses, trying to hide his swollen eyes as well. To his parents it was like they had lost one of their children. To Becca and him it was like they had lost their brother. And Bucky could not even imagine how hard it was for Sam to lose his boyfriend, his significant other, the person he wanted to grow old with. However, Sam looked more pulled together, like he tried his best not to cry in front of Bucky. Which Bucky understood, it was not like they knew each other very well.

“Do you want something to eat?" Sam asked and tried to feed Bucky some of the cake that was sitting on the kitchen counter. It was one of the many cakes people had brought over to the Barnes house after they had found out about Steve’s death. Everybody had loved Steve Rogers and it was a real shock to them that he had died at such a young age. Bucky, however, did not feel like eating. He felt like sleeping. Like the kind of sleep that makes you forget reality, the one that comforts you. He had not slept for the last couple of days, he was afraid of dreaming, afraid of dreaming and waking up. Afraid that his mind was going to dream about Steve and then him waking up and realizing that it was only a dream and that he was really gone.

“No, thanks. Do you want something?" Bucky asked but Sam shook his head. It was the first time that Bucky took a closer look at Sam Wilson. He was a little bit shorter than Bucky. His brown eyes were warm, and they looked worried, and Bucky felt like Sam was as close to breaking down as he himself was but tried to hold it together. The longer he looked at Sam, the more he understood Steve when he had talked about how warm Sam's eyes were or how good his smile looked. Sam was exactly the type of guy Bucky would go for. Sam tried to comfort him, and Bucky did not understand why. It was not like he had lost his boyfriend. He had lost his best friend, which was pretty hard as well, but not as hard as what Sam was going through now.

“Sorry, I need to get out of here,” Bucky told Sam and rushed out of the house.

The Barnes house was pretty small, barely enough room for two children, but they had squeezed together when Steve had moved in. The backyard had a small garden. A bench facing the giant cherry tree Bucky and Steve used to climb up.

Bucky felt his lip tremble and sniffed. He was all alone now. Steve was gone and there was nothing he could change about that. He felt a tear slipping down his face and tried to wipe it away with his shirtsleeve, but his stupid shirt was too tight, and he could not reach his eyes, and everything was just stupid.

A few moment later his vision was blurred with tears and he tried hard not to sob. It was horrible. He had not even realized that Sam had followed him outside until he felt a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Hey, it’s going to be alright, Bucky,” he said and tried to calm him down. The second he noticed Sam; Bucky felt like shit. Sam had just lost his boyfriend and Bucky was out here crying and not even thinking about Sam for a second.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky looked at Sam. “I just… I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now and I-,” he tried to continue but Sam interrupted him.

“If you try to apologize for having feelings, Barnes, I am going to throw you into your neighbors’ pool,” Sam pointed to his right to the swimming pool next to them. “I’m not joking. I don’t know what Steve told you about me, but I’m a man of my word,” Sam laughed. Bizarrely, Bucky laughed as well, like a real laugh, not the ones you fake to seem polite.

“You know, he would’ve hated that,” Bucky declared.

“What? “

“Us here, moping around. He would have wanted his funeral to be party. Has he ever told you about the first years of his life?”

Sam shook his head.

“When we were younger, Steve used to be sick, like all the time. He had the worst allergies and asthma and everything you could possibly imagine. Some winters were hard, there were times when he was in the hospital for week.

Then one time he had this stupid idea to plan his funeral because somehow in his 10-year-old brain he was thinking that he was going to die. And me, being the other 10-year-old, agreed to that so we were in that chapel and he was reading a text that he’d written and playing some weird ass song he’d found on his Mp3 player and then we were all mushy and crying. A couple of weeks later he was home again. A few years after that, he got his height boost and most of his allergies were gone and he became the Steve you know,” Bucky hadn’t even realized that he was crying again but it was a weird combo of crying and laughing.

“God, I miss him so much already,” he sniffed.

“So, Steve Rogers would’ve wanted a party for his funeral? “Sam grinned, and Bucky couldn’t help but start to notice Sam’s laugh. The way his eyes crinkled and the way his whole body moved when he laughed.

“We’re going to get through this, Buck. I promise,” Sam put his arm around Bucky and patted his shoulder.

“You know, you can always call me if you want to talk,” this was the first time that Bucky saw that Sam had tears in his eyes as well. Sam quickly looked in a different direction but left his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky was not mad that Sam called him ‘Buck ‘, he felt horrible. He was a horrible person. His best friend had just died and all he could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss his best friend’s boyfriend.

Sam Wilson was fairly sure that Bucky Barnes was one of the strongest people he had ever met. He could not even imagine what it must feel like to lose his boyfriend. Well, until the funeral, Sam hadn’t been quite sure if Bucky really had been Steve’s boyfriend because even though he had known Steve for more than 4 years, he still did not remember one woman or one man that Steve had ever mentioned with as much enthusiasm as he had radiated when talking about Bucky. So, it was kind of weird to Sam that they had only visited each other occasionally and still hadn’t been living together after so many years, but he hadn’t wanted to ask why. It was not his business anyways.

Even though he did not know much about Steve Rogers’ love life, he considered him one of his best friends if not his best friend. Therefore, it was hard on him to have lost Steve so suddenly. He had never heard of somebody dying of an asthma attack. Especially someone who hadn’t had one in more than ten years. He remembered Bucky’s call and nearly dropping his phone. Bucky’s parents had been Steve’s emergency contacts, so it was unsurprising that they, and thus Bucky, had gotten notified first.

He had been in the middle of cooking dinner for him and Steve, since they were sharing a flat. It was not like they were poor or not earning enough money, it was more about not being alone and being able to save up a bit for the future. None of them minded living with a roommate, though.

After the call he had travelled to New York to attend Steve’s funeral. It was not how he’ imagined his first trip to New York and it certainly wasn’t the way he had wanted to meet the famous Bucky Barnes. After the death of Steve’s parents when he’d been a teenager, Bucky’s family had been all he’d had left.

Sam had felt a little anxious, and even though two of his and Steve’s friends, Wanda and Pietro, had come with him, he still felt like an intruder. He still could not believe that Steve was really gone.

He recognized Bucky immediately. He had seen a lot of picture over the years and even met him one time via face time but that could not have prepared him for what he saw the first time he looked into Bucky’s eyes.

Even though he was on the verge of crying, he looked like one of the most beautiful men Sam had ever seen, and the second he thought of that Sam wanted to slap himself. He felt like the worst person on earth. His best friend had just died and all he could think about was how good-looking his boyfriend was. He was going to end up in hell.

For the next couple of days Sam felt numb. Bucky kindly invited him to stay over at his flat in New York, so Sam didn’t have to bother booking a hotel room or anything like that.

Since his boss had known Steve as well but could not attend his funeral due to business, he kindly gave Sam two paid weeks off. Sam was not sure how he was going to handle going back to the flat he shared with Steve. He already felt lonely and was not sure if he could handle throwing out Steve’s stuff.

But right now, he was thinking about a lot of different things, for example about Bucky, who was sitting right in front of him, eating a bagel for breakfast.

Bucky’s flat was not what Sam expected. After living together with Steve Rogers for nearly three years, he thought that he knew the way Steve liked to live. Pretty messy was an understatement. His room looked like it belonged to a messy 3-year-old. Bucky’s flat however was completely clean. So clean that Sam would not have been bothered eating off the floor. The thought of Bucky constantly reminding Steve to put away his stuff made him laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Bucky looked at him curiously and swallowed the last bit of his bagel.

“Oh, nothing,” Sam tried hide his grin.

“Hey, that’s not fair. Tell me,” Bucky protested but he was smiling as well. The pretty smile, the one that made Sam’s heart flutter. He quickly put that thought aside.

“Well, you knew Steve better than me and when I see how clean your flat is all I can think about is how messy ours used to look.”

That made Bucky laugh as well. “You know, I asked myself the same question. Do you remember when you were on that business trip? That time I visited Steve, and it was the first time I saw your flat and I was shocked how clean it actually looked. Not that Steve was a messy, but I’m amazed how you managed to get along with him not putting his stuff everywhere.”

“Well at least he tried with you, whenever he was coming home, he just threw his jacket on our couch and went into the bathroom,” Sam laughed. `

“Yeah, he tried his best whenever he visited me,” Bucky answered.

‘Perks of being the boyfriend, Sam thought but didn’t say it out loud. He did not want to upset Bucky and tried to talk as little about Steve as possible, only referring to him when Bucky told him a story about them.

“You know what, Sam?” Bucky asked after they put away the dishes from their late breakfast. “I’m done sitting here and moping around. I need to get out of here, get some fresh air.”

“Do you have something in mind?” Sam looked at him. It was weird, even though he never met Bucky in person he felt like he already knew him. Steve used to talk about him all the time, mentioning him even when he was talking about the most unnecessary things. At first Sam thought it was cute, but after a while it kind of annoyed him. However, Bucky really was as great as Steve had described him. In the last days he got to know him and found out that he was one of the most generous and humble persons he had ever met.

“I actually do. I have been craving ice cream ever since I saw that Ben and Jerry’s commercial last night and thought that we could go to the Central Park,” Bucky suggested.

“Sound great. Let me get my jacket and I am good to go”.

They each grabbed their phones, wallets and jackets. Bucky stuffed his keys into the pocket of his leather jacket. Sam could swear that Bucky had at least five different versions of the same leather jacket in different colors.

Bucky’s flat was close to the Central Park since he lived in Manhattan. Sam was not quite sure what kind of job Bucky had but it must have been paying really well if he could afford living that close to the city. They didn’t talk much while walking to the park, but Bucky took the time to show Sam some of Steve’s favorite spots, for example his favorite coffee shop. Whenever they walked past a shop or cafe Steve used to like, Sam knew immediately because Bucky tensed up.

Obviously, Sam had never been to the Central Park in New York and he had only ever seen it on pictures so far, so he was surprised how big it actually was. There were a lot of children, parents and young people walking around. A couple of them were inline skating or even skateboarding. It was a sunny afternoon, which made for a crowded park.

“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” Bucky asked him after they sat down on a free bench they found.

“Pretty much any ice cream flavor,” Sam laughed.

“You know, that was Steve’s answer to that question as well. He ate pretty much every flavor of ice cream I bought so I always had to hide it or buy an extra pack,” Bucky smiled but his eyes looked sad.

Sam wasn’t sure what he could do to make him feel better. And the worst was that he was still thinking about how good-looking Bucky was. “Just surprise me, okay?”

Bucky nodded and quickly walked away to the nearest ice cream van.

Sam leaned against the bank and closed his eyes. His mind was still trying to process Steve’s death. When he was younger his dad had died, and his mom had made him go to a therapist for a couple of months. The woman had told him about the five different stages of grief, and Sam was sure he was still stuck in denial. He just couldn’t imagine his life without Steve Rogers, and he still did not know how he would manage living on his own. He might get a different flat, one that was smaller.

His thoughts were interrupted by Bucky, who returned, carrying two ice cream cones in his hands. There were at least three scoops of chocolate ice cream on each one. Sam’s eyes grew big once Bucky settled the ice cream into his hand.

“I thought we might as well treat ourselves,” he only stated and started eating his ice cream.

If there was something worse than having the hots for your dead best friend’s boyfriend, it was watching his so-called boyfriend licking ice cream.

He quickly looked away and stared at the ice cream in his hand, which was slowly starting to melt.

“You know, I bought this for you so you could eat it. Not watch it melt, but you do you,” Bucky raised his eyebrows and looked at the ice cream that was slowly dripping around the cone.

“Yeah, of course. Is it a coincidence that you chose chocolate because it is Steve’s favorite ice cream or is it your favorite flavor as well?” Sam asked curiously.

“You got me there. It’s my favorite ice cream flavor, too. So now you know why I had to hide my secret ice cream stash in the freezer whenever Steve came around,” Bucky laughed.

They were quietly eating their ice cream when Bucky stood up all of a sudden and grabbed Sam’s hand. Bucky’s hand was warm, warmer than Sam had imagined. The former quickly pulled him to his feet and Sam felt himself blushing. Hopefully, Bucky didn’t see that.

“Come on, we are going to see the ducks,” Bucky shouted and ran to the lake that was in the middle of the park. Sam just laughed. Sometimes he felt like Bucky was still ten years old and not 28. He followed Bucky and found him a few seconds later, throwing the last crumbs of his ice cream cone to a little duck family that was quickly picking up the crumbs.

“You are such a child, Bucky.”

Bucky just rolled his eyes and tried to pet the small ducklings. However, the mother duck was not having that and tried to pick at Bucky’s hand. It even started to flutter towards him. Bucky let out a scream and started running to Sam. “Help me, ahh. It’s trying to kill me. Sorry duck, I was only trying to pet your babies,” Bucky exclaimed. “I wouldn’t hurt them.”

Sam was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing. He noticed a couple of other people around him who were watching them. A few seconds later he just gave up and completely doubled over. He was wheezing and already feeling the weird looks he got from the people surrounding him. Tears started to form in his eyes and that was the first time the last few days that the reason for them was not him being sad.

Bucky finally came over to him, laughing as well. “They were so cute, I just had to,” he exclaimed, and before Bucky was able to say another word, Sam grabbed him by his hips and pulled him over to him. He let his hand sit on Bucky’ waist for a short moment until he realized that Bucky was staring at him, especially at his hand. Sam felt blood rushing into his head. He probably looked absolutely flustered and he noticed that Bucky was blushing.

“Anyways. They were cute and Steve loves, I mean loved, ducks,” Bucky said quietly.

After hearing Steve’s name Sam felt guilty again. Following that awkward incident, they quickly went back to Bucky’s apartment and never mentioned it again.

Ever since Sam had left to go back to his flat in Chicago, Bucky felt lonely. He had never felt that way when Steve had left him to go back to Chicago or when his other friends visited. It might have to do with the fact that Sam was the first person who really calmed him down after Steve’s death. His parents and his sister tried their best, but they were still trying to process the fact that Steve was gone. Sam’s reaction to Steve’s death was different. It almost made Bucky a little angry, because how could he not have cared about Steve, but then he remembered that Sam hadn’t know him as well as the Barnes family. Sam might have tried to pull himself together because he had not wanted to cry in front of Bucky. The last couple of days Bucky had gotten to spend with Sam he understood what Steve had loved about him. Sam was kind, made him laugh and the best thing, he was honest to Bucky.

Bucky’s last relationships had not been exactly what he pictured. The last girl he had dated had been someone named Natasha, who he’d met through work. She was nice and pretty, but after a few months she’d told Bucky that she did not see a future with him. He wasn’t sad that their relationship ended, he was sad because it meant he was alone again.

Right then, he was sitting on his couch, watching his favorite tv show. Suits. The first time he’d watched that show he couldn’t decide whether he would rather sleep with Donna or Harvey. Seeing that he was a lawyer himself, he knew the series was nowhere close to being realistic, but he still liked it. Practicing law wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured it in college but still, it made him happy.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. He quickly grabbed it and smiled once he saw the name displayed on the screen. Sam Wilson.

“Hey, Bucky,” Sam greeted him.

Bucky felt his chest flutter but tried to ignore it. Sam was his forbidden fruit, but he already felt like Eva ogling the red apple in garden Eden. Apparently, he and Eva would share going to hell.

“Hey Sam,” Bucky answered quietly.

There as an awkward pause.

“Something wrong?”

“Well, I don’t know if this might seem weird to you but yesterday, I was finally able to enter Steve’s room and was trying to sort his stuff and because he doesn’t have any family left, I thought you might want some of this and- “

Bucky interrupted him. “Sam, you are rambling. What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“I was just wondering if you might want to fly to Chicago and look through Steve’s stuff. Like, I know he would have wanted you to get most of his things. I understand if you are occupied with work but honestly, I don’t know if I’m ready to get rid of his things. It feels like I’m starting to forget him. I’m already starting to forget what his voice sounded like, and it’s starting to drive me crazy. And I know it’s a lot I’m asking of you and it is a shitty thing of me to cry to you about it, since he was your-,” Sam sniffed and before he could continue Bucky interrupted him again.

“To quote you, Sam: If you dare apologize for having feelings, I might throw you into your neighbor’s pool. Even though I don’t know if your neighbor owns a pool, but you get what I’m trying to say here,” Bucky could hear Sam laughing, although his voice was still a bit cracked. He sounded like he had been crying for at least a couple of minutes. Then again, Bucky would probably react the same if he’d had to sit down and sort out Steve’s stuff.

“I’m flying out to you tomorrow,” Bucky stated. He could hear Sam breathing. “You don’t have to if you have work to do or something else, I can get Wanda or Pietro to help me,” Sam said, guilt lacing his tone.

“No, you’re right. I should have thought about that earlier. It must be hard for you. Of course, I can help,” he assured Sam.

“Thanks, Bucky,” Sam replied.

“You’re welcome, Sam. I’ll text you my flight information.”

However, he did not mention that he was excited to meet Sam again. He was sure that the last thing Sam was worried about right now was finding a new boyfriend, and Bucky still felt guilty about even thinking that he had a chance with Sam. Sam had been Steve’s boyfriend and was grieving, and Bucky was selfish for thinking that Sam could like him that way.

Immediately after the phone call ended, he grabbed his laptop and started looking for flights straight to Chicago. Since it was on such short notice, the flights were way more expensive than usually, but he didn’t care about that.

The day he arrived in Chicago was rainy. The weather was characteristically bad, so he was glad that Sam had offered to pick him up from the airport. Once Bucky had grabbed his suitcase, he made his way into the arrival hall of the airport. He already noticed Sam from far away, due to the fact that the other man was waving like crazy at Bucky, which made him laugh. Sam was such a dork.

“Hey, I’m glad you made it. Thanks again,” Sam tried to carry Bucky’s suitcase, but Bucky pushed his hand away.

“I got it, thanks,” he still thought it was cute.

They walked outside to Sam’s car, talking about random things. Bucky noticed that Sam didn’t mention Steve’s name. He was probably waiting until they got home, and Bucky did not want to upset Sam any further, so he did not mention the deceased’s name as well.

Bucky could count on one hand how many times he had been to Steve’s and Sam’s flat. It was still weird to him that they did not sleep in the same bed. But after knowing Steve Rogers for nearly two decades, it was impossible for even him to sleep next to Steve. Whenever the latter had slept, he’d snored so loud that Bucky had been sure the neighbors next door could still hear him, so he did not blame Sam for having wanted a separate bed.

The flat had not changed much since the last time Bucky had been there. The walls were decorated with a lot of artwork - most of it done by Steve. While Bucky was not able to draw a straight line, Steve had been able to draw the most amazing things with only a pencil.

“You can keep some of them, if you want,” Sam commented and squeezed his shoulder.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but you should keep most of them. They’re in your home, anyway, so why should I take ‘em with me.”

Sam only stared at him in confusion.

“I guess I’ll move into a new flat once we are done here. It’s too big for me anyway. Might as well get another roommate,” Sam stated.

“Roommate?” Bucky looked at him “Aren’t you a bit old to live with a roommate?” he asked, seemingly confused. He knew Sam was nearly 3 years older than him and Steve.

“I am what?” Sam raised his eyebrow.

Immediately, Bucky felt bad. He was such an idiot. Sam had been living with his boyfriend for the last 3 years, of course he was going to feel lonely living on his own. “Nothing. Forget it. So, where did you put Steve’s stuff?”

Sam pointed to a couple of boxes that were lying in one corner of the living room. “I got rid of most of his clothes and furniture, apart from some t-shirts and hoodies. Thought you might want to keep some of these.”

Bucky’s eyes wandered to a green hoodie that was crumpled up in one of the boxes. He quickly snatched it and pressed it against his chest. It was the hoodie Steve had worn the day they had gotten their college acceptance. It even smelled a bit like Steve.

“You should keep it,” Sam mumbled, “I have so much of his stuff, and you have nothing and…” His voice started to crack.

Bucky felt helpless. He was trying to think of something that would make Sam feel better. The only thing he could think about right then was a hug.

He quickly wrapped his arms around Sam and pressed his chest against the other man’s. He could feel Sam’s breathing and heartbeat.

Sam started to calm down, still pressed against Bucky. They stayed like this for a moment until Bucky started to feel something. ‘Oh god’, he panicked. Not now. It had been a few months since he’d last had any physical contact and it was starting to show. Sam clinging and moving against him did not make things better. Bucky felt his face heating up and tried to think of a way to break out of the hug.

“You, okay?” Sam asked and quickly ended their hug. He’d probably felt something was wrong.

Bucky was still red and quickly looked away. ‘So much to not thinking about Sam in that way,’ he thought to himself.

“Yeah, everything’s alright,” Bucky just knew Sam had felt it. However, he was glad that he didn’t mention it. It was already awkward enough for him. They continued to look through Steve’s stuff and neither of them said another word.

“I am glad you are here, Bucky,” Sam whispered after a while.

“I am really glad you called me,” Bucky responded. It was going to be okay.

“What movie do you want to watch?” Sam asked and started zapping through Netflix. It had been a couple of months since Bucky’s visit to Chicago, but he and Sam had been in contact with each other nearly every day. Bucky had started to slowly crawl into Sam’s daily life, but he did not mind it. Quite the opposite. The more he talked to Bucky, the more Sam caught himself thinking about the way Bucky smiled and laughed. The way Bucky’s eyes lit up when he talked about his work or his cat, Alpine. The cat was cute. Sam remembered Bucky finding her near the trash cans in the backyard of his flat and the moment he’d seen her he’d known that she was supposed to stay with him. Just like Steve and Bucky used to do, the two chose at least one time a month to meet up with each other. That month it was Sam’s turn to visit Bucky.

Right now, they were sitting on Bucky’s couch. Bucky was on his phone trying to figure out what he wanted to eat for dinner. Alpine was cuddled against Bucky’s chest.

“I don’t care. Chose something you want to watch,” Bucky answered Sam’s question. He stroked Alpine’s white fur. The cat snuggled closer to Bucky and purred. Sam could not blame her. Bucky’s chest did look comfortable.

“Okay, then.”

It still took Sam more than fifteen minutes to find a series he wanted to watch.

“Have you decided on what you want to eat?” he asked Bucky, who was still scrolling through his phone.

“No,” Bucky let out a groan. “They have so many options. How am I supposed to choose? I want fries and sushi and pizza at the same time,” he exclaimed.

Sam laughed. One of the many things he had learned about Bucky in the last couple of months was that Bucky loved food. It was close to being an unhealthy obsession.

“Well, how about we just get something small of everything and share?” Sam offered but Bucky did not seem convinced.

“Sam, I don’t want to share,” he pouted.

“Okay, well, that’s your problem. I already know what I want to eat,” Sam crossed his arms and leaned back against the couch. It was comfortable and probably cost more than Sam’s monthly salary. He had learned that Bucky was a corporate lawyer, which explained how he was able to live so close to Manhattan. It also explained the amounts of money he was able to spend on food. The first few times, Sam had tried to split the bill, but Bucky had always protested. Sam had stopped trying after that. It was sweet of Bucky, and Sam wondered if that was the way Bucky had treated Steve as well. The more he got to know the other man, the more he caught himself falling for him. He knew it was wrong, and that Steve would probably hate him for feeling that way - he even hated himself a little bit for it - but he couldn’t change his feelings. He tried his best not to get too touchy with Bucky, but he failed sometimes.

“I want pizza.”

Sam looked at Bucky. “Are you sure?”

“Yep,” Bucky started to scratch Alpine’s belly, and the cat purred in response.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. He knew that Bucky would probably change his opinion once the pizza was here, but he still called the pizza place and ordered.

45 minutes later the doorbell rang, and Bucky stood up to answer. Alpine looked up in confusion once she noticed that Bucky was gone and started walking towards Sam. After looking at him, she decided he was worthy and cuddled against his chest. Sam patted her.

“Oh, this is so cute, I need to take a picture,” Bucky had returned with two large pizza cartons and a smaller one containing some garlic bread. Sam smiled, but the second Bucky got his phone out, Alpine jumped up and quickly walked away.

“Stupid cat,” Bucky mumbled. It was almost like she heard him because she turned her head and hissed at him.

“Great, now she’s mad,” Sam sighed.

“She’ll get over it. Here’s your pizza,” Bucky gave him his carton and settled down to eat his own pizza.

“By the way, my sister wants to finally meet you,” Bucky said after a few minutes. It didn’t take him long to finish his pizza and he moved on to the garlic bread.

“I can’t wait to meet her. Steve used to talk about her all the time. He really loved her like a little sister.” Sam didn’t know Becca personally, apart from that short meeting at Steve’s funeral, but back then hadn’t really been the right time to get to know her better.

“Yeah, he really did. She is our little sister,” Bucky mumbled, a sad undertone present in his voice. Sam wasn’t going to lie, he thought about Steve a lot, but whenever he visited Bucky or got a message from him, the thought of his best friend was pushed a little bit further back in his brain. Every time he caught himself doing that, he felt guilty. Guilty for starting to forget the way Steve’s voice sounded, for getting a smaller flat because he couldn’t stand continuing to live in the same flat, he used to live in with Steve and mostly, guilty for slowly starting to fall in love with Bucky Barnes.

He wondered if Bucky sometimes forgot about Steve, too, or if Sam was just a horrible friend. He didn’t have the courage to ask Bucky about it; he did not want to lose the closest thing he had to a best friend since Steve.

They continued to watch the series. After a while, Alpine came back from wherever she had hidden. She settled into the crook of Bucky’s arm and looked into Sam’s eyes. He almost felt caught by her. He did not really like cats; however, he made an exception for Alpine.

Shortly after the movie, Sam noticed that Bucky was snoring. He was leaning against Sam’s shoulder, Alpine still lying on him.

Sam caught himself watching Bucky for a few seconds. He looked so cute and calm and the way he was resting against Sam’s shoulder gave him goosebumps. His skin looked so soft, and Sam had to fight with himself not to touch his cheek. He decided to close his eyes for a few minutes as well.

The next morning, Sam noticed something furry on his nose, tickling him. He sneezed and opened his eyes, only to look at something white. He tried to push Alpine away from his face and started to look around. He remembered falling asleep on Bucky’s couch. He noticed that somehow during the night, Bucky had shifted and was now laying on Sam’s chest. Sam’s arm was wrapped around Bucky’s torso. He tried to shift without moving too much but failed. He looked at Bucky’s face and noticed that the younger man was still sleeping peacefully.

‘Great and now I have to pee’, Sam thought. He ran his other hand through Bucky’s hair. It was as soft as he imagined. A few minutes later Bucky’s eyes fluttered, and a pair of blue eyes started into Sam’s.

“Morning,” Bucky said with a rusty voice. It took him a while to notice that he was lying nearly on top of Sam.

“Have you slept well?” Sam asked.

Bucky nodded and stared at him so intensely that Sam briefly thought he was going to kiss him. However, Bucky quickly sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“So anyways. Do you want some breakfast?” Bucky changed the topic, already half up off the couch and on his way into the kitchen.

Sam stared after at him. ‘What the hell was that’, he thought but shook it off and quickly followed Bucky into the kitchen.

Today was the 6th month anniversary of Steve’s death and Bucky’s day had already started out shitty. Firstly, he’d nearly missed his alarm clock, then his client had stood him up for lunch and finally he’d managed to spill his coffee all over himself and had to ask his assistant to get another one. He was currently sitting in his office, staring at the framed picture in front of him.

It was a picture of him and Steve when they were younger. He still could not believe that Steve had been gone for 6 months. It felt like yesterday to him how he’d called Steve nearly every evening to talk to him about his boring day.

The only thing he was looking forward today was that he was finally going to see Sam again. Thinking about the dark-haired man made him smile. The last time Sam had visited had been kind of weird. That one morning, they’d woken up all cuddly and Bucky had nearly kissed Sam. Thank God, he’d caught himself in the last moment. Sam would have probably thought Bucky was a horrible friend, and Bucky refused to lose his newest friend to something as stupid as a little crush.

He probably felt like that because the last time he’d had sex had been back when Steve had still been alive. Yeah, that was the most reasonable explanation as to why he could not stop thinking about Sam’s lips and his toned arms. He quickly looked back at the file in front of him. It was a case about a holding company that was trying to sell one of their firms they owned. It was boring, to say the least. He tried to get it done as quickly as possible.

Finally, a few hours later, Bucky was able to close the file. He looked at his clock; it was 20 past 7pm already. His eyes widened. He was supposed to meet up with Sam at 7pm at his flat. He pulled out his phone and noticed that he had a missed call from Sam and a few text messages.

Barnes, you there?

Buckyyy

Where are you, man?

Okay, I am just going to let myself in, I know where your spare key is 😊.

Sam had added a bunch of random emojis, and Bucky smiled. Of course, he knew where Bucky’s spare key was.

Bucky packed up his things, bid goodbye to the colleagues who were still in the building and made his way home. He was pretty sure Sam was comfortable enough in the flat to entertain himself, so Bucky ended up picking some food on the way. Thai. It was Steve’s favorite food.

As he opened his apartment door, his hands full of takeaway boxes, he could already hear the TV. Once he entered the living room, he could see Sam lying on his couch. Alpine was sitting on his lap and Sam was cuddling her. It was adorable.

“Hello, person who does not live in my home,” Bucky said and walked over to place the food on his couch table.

“Well, I decided I do now.”, Sam exclaimed. “Your cat likes me better anyways. Isn’t that right, Alpine?”

The cat snuggled closer to Sam.

“Traitor,” Bucky whispered. But he was glad that Sam liked her as much as he himself did. They were a package deal.

“What is that?” Sam pointed to the food boxes.

“Food, duh. Thai. It was Steve’s favorite,” Bucky said. After mentioning Steve’s name, he noticed how Sam tensed up. Bucky decided not to comment on it; instead, he sat down next to Sam and started opening the food boxes.

“Fuck,” Sam whispered and ran his hands over his face. “I can’t believe it’s been 6 months already. How has he been dead for 6 months? I feel like it was yesterday that I talked to him, we were planning a trip to California this summer. We wanted to take my nephews to Disneyland. There were so excited and devastated when I told them we could not go anymore and cried when I told them why.”

Bucky felt his heart aching. He knew Sam had nephews.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Bucky said and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance.

“I still cannot process that he really is gone. Some days I forget that he is dead, just for a short moment, and then reality hits and I feel like I just want to fold myself into a corner and cry. He was my best friend.” Bucky looked down and noticed that Sam had started to sniff.

“You know, I still get nightmares about the day you called me,” Sam admitted.

Bucky saw a single tear roll down Sam’s face and he quickly wiped it away with his sleeve. The man next to him looked so small and vulnerable. Bucky wanted to hug him so badly.

“I always wonder what would have happened if I had been with him. I should have made sure he’d take his inhaler with him. God, I am so sorry, Bucky,” he started to sob.

Bucky froze. It was the first time Sam cried in front of him. He felt helpless, the only thing that he could do was try to comfort him.

“It’s okay, Sam. It was not your fault. Steve was an adult, he should have known better than to not carry his inhaler with him, even if he hadn’t had an asthma attack in more than 10 years,” Bucky tried to calm him down, but that made Sam even more upset.

“I was supposed to look after him, you trusted me to look after him-“Sam was starting to hyperventilate.

“You did, Sam. You did. It was not your fault, and it wasn’t mine either. It was just a stupid, terrible thing to happen, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Please stop trying to blame yourself for his death,” Bucky shouted. Apparently, this was the only way Sam understood he was not responsible for what had happened to Steve.

Sam stared at him, not being used to Bucky raising his voice.

“I’m serious, Sam,” Bucky said again.

“You are way too good; do you know that Bucky?” Sam said with a weird mixture of laughing and crying. “God, I still miss him so much.”

“I miss him too, Sam, but Steve would have wanted you to move on with your life. He would have wanted us to live the best life we could possibly have. And I know that sounds harsh but please don’t blame yourself.” Bucky wasn’t sure if his words were what Sam wanted to hear. He would either think that Bucky was a total asshole for thinking that he should move on this quickly after his boyfriend died or he would agree with him.

“Yeah, you are right. He would have wanted me to move on. He would have wanted that for you as well, Bucky,” Sam answered quietly, and the next thing Bucky knew he was pressing his lips against Sam’s.

+ 1

Sam felt Bucky’s lips pressing against his own. At first, he was shocked that Bucky really was kissing him but after a few seconds he returned the kiss. He pulled Bucky closer to himself and started moving his hand to the other man’s neck. Bucky groaned and started to move closer to Sam.

It was everything Sam had dreamed about for the last couple of months and if Bucky was ready to move on from Steve, Sam was ready for that as well. They continued to kiss for a while, none of them saying a word. The sound of them kissing was the only one heard in the apartment. Sam was already starting to slip his hand under Bucky’s t-shirt when Bucky suddenly pulled away from him.

“No, no, no-,” he exclaimed and looked at Sam, both their lips slightly swollen from their kissing.

“This is wrong,” Bucky whined.

Sam could almost hear the crack his heart made the second Bucky stopped their kiss. Of course, he thought it was wrong. Steve and Bucky had been together for more than 5 years or maybe even more, obviously, Bucky wouldn’t move on so quickly.

“God I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Sam,” Bucky looked at him with blue eyes and Sam wanted to kiss him again, so badly.

“Sorry, I just thought that… you’re right, this is not fair to Steve. God, I’m a horrible person, Steve would hate me,” Sam whispered ashamed.

“No, I’m the bad friend. I kissed you. I kissed my dead best friend’s boyfriend. I’m pretty sure they have a special place in hell for people like me,” Bucky let out a groan.

Sam looked at him confused. What the hell was he talking about?

“I was his what now?” he asked and stared at Bucky.

“Boyfriend, partner, significant other, I don’t know what you called each other, but I’m pretty sure that if there was one rule for friendship it’s that you don’t make a move on your friends’ partners,” Bucky gestured between Sam and him.

“This shouldn’t have happened,” he was out of breath and pushed his hair out his face. His cheeks were starting to get redder.

“No,” was the only thing Sam said at first. “You’re his boyfriend”, he continued and pointed at Bucky.

“Huh?” Bucky replied, still confused.

“No, you are. He always talked about you and he visited you nearly every week and-,” Sam was starting to ramble, but Bucky interrupted him.

“You two were living together?! I thought you were his boyfriend, what was I supposed to think? I didn’t assume two grown men would be living together as roommates,” he exclaimed.

“Hey,” Sam felt offended.

Bucky quickly noticed the way Sam looked at him. “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…I thought you were his boyfriend.”

“No, I’m his best friend,” Sam answered, this time a bit louder. What the hell was going on?

“No, I’m his best friend,” Bucky mumbled, still trying to process what had happened in the last few moments.

“Wait. So you’re not in a relationship with Steven Grant Rogers, and you never were?” Sam asked slowly.

“No,” Bucky answered, though it sounded more like a question. “I mean we used to when we were teenagers, but that’s nearly a decade ago.”

“And you’re not in a relationship with Steve either, right?” Bucky added and looked into Sam’s eyes.

“Nope, and I never was.”

There was an awkward silence between them until Bucky asked Sam, “So, the last few months you thought I was grieving my boyfriend, while I thought you were grieving your boyfriend?”

It was the thing that made Sam crack. He started to laugh. Loudly. He even started wheezing, tears forming in his eyes.

“I cannot believe this. That little shit,” Sam cried out. “He never corrected me when I referred to you as his boyfriend. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

Finally, Bucky busted out laughing as well. “We’re so stupid. We could have just asked each other but instead we just assumed that the other was the grieving widower.”

Sam could feel the way Bucky was staring at him, trying to figure out what to say next. Sam, on the other hand, knew already what he was going to do next. He got closer to Bucky and kissed him again.

This time Bucky didn’t hesitate and pushed himself against Sam. “You know,” he mumbled between kisses, “We could have done that way earlier.” The complaint was evident in his tone.

“Better late than never,” was the only thing Sam answered before he kissed Bucky once more.

And somewhere out there, Steve was looking at them, smiling to himself and thinking how much of an idiot both of his best friends were.

Feel free to leave any comments or any suggestions for improvement!

Thank you so much for reading my first ever English written One Shot! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I'm really looking forward to writing more Marvel fanfiction, especially Stucky and Sambucky.

much love, your local stucky shipper xx

***

#angst with a happy ending #angst #major character death #grief #miscommunication #misunderstandings #sambucky #mutual pining #fluff #happy ending #steve rogers #fatws bucky #bucky barnes #samwilson #captain america #thefalconandthewintersoldier #tfatws

65 notes · View notes

chrstbll · 5 years ago

Text

finally found you. | ben hargreeves

(gif not mine)

pairing: ben hargreeves x reader

tag: @grievingghost

note: my first request ever! i just wanted to tell you, you made my whole day. thank you :) i hope you'll enjoy this one! xx i tried my best.

plot: Spending two years in the ‘60s, Ben starts to get concerned after every one of his siblings show up, except you. They find you where they least expect to.

Returning to the huge mansion Klaus’s cult were positioned, the fourth sibling lazily slopped down on the couch of his bedroom. Removing a few pieces of clothing from his outfit, he made himself more comfortable and started to doze off, his baggy, tired eyes shuttering close.

“God, what a long day of saving the world. I don’t know how Superman does it daily.” he yawned and turned to his side. Klaus met up with exactly five of his siblings today to discuss the plan on how to return to their true timeline. Five pretty serious about saying it was now or never. None of them forgot you, Diego notably. The two of you shared a strong bond that most siblings usually don’t. He looked for you in multiple states throughout the years, but eventually he had to stop for his own good. He hated the plan solely because they couldn’t do anything but leave you behind. Even after they tried to look for you, every evidence has led to a dead end.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re real sleepy.” a snarky voice spoke up in front of him. Klaus’ eyes popped open, but quickly relaxed when he recognised that it’s only Ben making his stupid comments.

“Just shut up, man. Let me have one good afternoon nap for once. Please...” he begged with a hoarse voice. Ben wasn’t buying any of his crap today, as Klaus did more things than usual that infuriated the ghost. For example, when he asked to let the others know he’s present as well, he simply laughed in his face.

“Shouldn’t you be at least a tiny bit of worried that we might leave in a few days, and (Y/N) still haven’t walked by us once? Shouldn’t you be? Because I am, and I don’t know why the dead one has to motivate you to look for your sister!” he scolded Klaus without stuttering once. He was sure you were alright. He knew how strong you were, especially when you had to face problems yourself. He assured himself everday since they got here, that they would eventually run into you or you’d find them. His anxiety only arose when Five declared his plan and you were still nowhere to be found.

“Weren’t you with me this whole time? We looked for her! For two years I thought my family was dead, can I be at least a little happy for them?” Klaus sounded angry and desperate at the same time. He was now sitting up and facing his brother with a hardened look on his face.

“Well we didn’t look hard enough! You didn’t!” Ben only angered Klaus more.

“I’m sorry my little brother, but she’s probably dead in a ditch somewhere “he groaned “Knowing her, she’d be here already, but she isn’t. You must accept it, she’s gone. End of story! “Klaus lashed out in a manner which resulted in one thing.

Ben punched him.

“Did I convince you?”

“Yeah.”

The question 'What would you do, if you travelled back in time to the '60s?' would probably be the title of a little kid's first essay in school that they’d have a hard time writing. Even after two years of living in this timeline, you’d have no idea what to write either.

Searching in hopes of finding at least one alive sibling of your family was a quest you gave up exactly today. After desperately trying day after day, you finally sat down in a bar. The feeling of hopelessness and disappointment weighted down on your shoulders. Two years and none of them turning up really took its toll on you. Maybe Five has a plan, right? You thought of every single one of them, but one face in your memory ached your heart more than the rest. Memories of Ben kept popping up in your brain, and honestly, this time you didn’t mind. Since the day he’s been gone, you grieved him and kept his memory close to your heart.

You thought back to that night after Reginald’s funeral, when Klaus revealed to you that the boy you tied strong feelings to was still around. The first time in seventeen years that you were able to reconnect with him, and God, was it amazing and heart-breaking at the same time. Ever since then, you felt a little less alone. Even though you were surrounded by your living siblings, it made you a little bit happier knowing all eight of you were there.

With the money you managed to save up, you bought a drink. You looked around and saw exactly what everyday life was like here. Excessive amount of drinking and smoking hand in hand, usually older, grungy white men enjoying their addiction of poker where they stole anything they possibly could from their opponents.

While you were waiting for your drink, your eyes wandered through a room. Today wasn’t the day you expected something out of ordinary to happen. But here it was. You could feel your body freeze and your blood pressure go up at the same time when your eyes spot a slim male figure, with long brown and wavy locks dressed in funny clothing in the farthest part of the room. He was arguing with thin air. For a few seconds you looked at him weird and that was when the realisation hit you.

Klaus!

Already forgetting your drink, you abruptly stood up from the bar stool. Quickly crossing the room, you made your way over to Klaus, not taking your eyes off him. You bumped into a few people which granted you some mean remarks, but you didn’t even hear them. As if everything turned to grey in the room, and only Klaus was in colour. You picked up the pace when it looked like he was about leave. Your heart was pounding, your ears were ringing, and you couldn’t believe that it was actually him until you crashed into his body and wrapped him in a suffocating hug.

He wasn’t realising the situation until he saw the shocked Ben behind you. He looked at you and back at him, repeating several times before returning the tight hug. He began laughing almost hysterically and he was sure he felt his eyes tear up. When he pulled away, he was still grabbing your shoulders to make sure you were real and not going away.

“Damn, girl, didn’t you want to show up sooner?” he joked.

“I wanted to. Believe me” you replied. You were breathless, but so over the moon at the same time for finally getting a hold of your brother.

If only you could see the pure ecstasy that got a hold of Ben in a matter of seconds. He was in the middle of a heated argument with Klaus about him saying that you most likely won’t be here and how stupid of an idea it was to come here. He swore he was about to launch another punch at him, when suddenly you exploded into Klaus’ arms. The atmosphere instantly softened just like his whole being did. If he were alive, he’d be sure as hell his heart would’ve jumped out of his chest right then and there. The relief and happiness thanks to you combined affected him as if a fresh glass of water was offered up to him after days of insufferable thirst.

Klaus presented the idea to return to his place where you can catch up on everything in peace. You didn’t mention Ben yet, however he was the only one on your mind. You were thinking about asking Klaus if he could conjure up his ghost so he can be visible to your eyes as well, or just simply deliver some messages. But you also didn’t want to make him feel like a translator or a third-wheel at all, but greedines got the best of you.

“Can I talk to Ben when we get back?” you asked softly “If it’s alright with you.” you added. The anxiety was obviously recognizable in your voice, but perhaps it was for the reason that you feared being rejected by your brother or because you were in despair to share a few words with your deceased lover at last.

“It’s only fair (Y/N)” he smiled to himself “ So of course. Plus I’m already tired of Benny boy gushing in the backseat” The statement made you laugh wholeheartedly, something you haven’t done in a while.

Sitting down in his room, you were filled with excitement. You saw Klaus how hard he focused on his powers, so you remained still and quiet, but you would have anyway from feeling incredibly nervous.

As a shape started to take form with a blissful blue layer over itself on the couch in front of you, you found Ben himself smiling warmly back at you. His eyes glistened, his features fit him perfectly in his mature age, and he just looked perfect.

“Finally found you.” he beamed.

143 notes · View notes

daybreak-delusion · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 1

Introduction: Whitney Goodwinson was planning on inheriting one of her deceased grandmother's properties, but not a little house off the coast of North Carolina. As she struggles to meet new people, fix up her new property, deal with troublemaker JJ Maybank, and perfect her grandmother's infamous lemonade she might just find that the Outer Banks has more to offer than it seems.

Series Masterlist

It was just like a regular family gathering. Aunt Elizabeth was wearing something that was completely inappropriate for a 50-year-old, cousin Will was shaking from cocaine withdrawals, and my mother was whispering more family gossip into my ear. Not the best circumstances for my grandmother's funeral, but she wouldn’t have expected much from us.

“This is ridiculous,” Mother hissed/whispered into my ear, “your grandmother always said that she wanted white roses not white lilies at her funeral,” she finally finished, sitting up straight in her chair. I just kept staring ahead trying to ignore the fact that my family is insane. Grandmother was the only thing keeping us all together and after her will reading, we would probably never see each other again. Allow me to explain, Grandfather was the highest paying heart surgeon in the L.A. county by the age of 30. He met my grandmother at a yacht club off the coast of North Carolina and I guess it was love at first sight. A load of bull that was, Grandfather had countless affairs and they barely stayed in the same home together. I guess that’s love.

“As we celebrate the life of Victoria Goodwinson, daughter, mother, and friend, we ask that the family come forward with their flowers,” said the perspiring priest gesturing towards the first row to step up.

“Come on,” grunted Father, leaving a laughable sweat mark on his seat. Honestly, who picked black for the color of death and why did Grandmother have to die in June? Whatever, we all got up and gathered our white roses, which triggered another comment from Mother, and headed to the casket. I adjusted my black dress and moved my straightened brown hair over my shoulder. I could tell from the look on my mother's face and the sweat on the back of my neck that my hair was probably frizzing up and going back to its waves. There goes another hour of straightening down the drain. Just like we practiced Uncle Richard and Aunt Elizabeth's family went first, followed by Uncle Charles and Aunt Anne’s family, and finally our little whirlwind. Oldest to youngest, straight backs, and mournful looks on our faces. Sadly this meant that I would have to hold a sad face and stand with my shoulders back the longest. By the time it was my turn I had started seeing black dots. I placed my rose on top of the others and actually started to think about Grandmother for the first time since she died. It’s not like I was granddaughter of the year or anything but I still felt a close connection with Grandmother. She would always talk about her glamorous life in London, New York, and Singapore, the Channel fashion shows, and the exquisite champagne imported from Paris. She was the only adult that let me drink in her presence, so she was basically my favorite human being and ultimate role model. Then about two years ago Grandfather died. After that, she stowed away to the place where they met, and then she died. Snapping back to reality I realized the service was over. Let the games begin.

My relatives looked like lions chained up in a meat locker. We were all in the family mansion in L.A. patiently waiting for the attorney to show up. As patient as a bunch of spoiled rich children can. When the clock struck four minutes past 3 Uncle Richard started to pace, causing Aunt Elizabeth to convince him to sit down which caused an argument which caused an awkward feeling to rise in the room. Normal stuff. Thankfully the attorney walked in right as Uncle Richard was criticizing my father's necktie after he tried to stop him from throwing a vase. Everyone quickly shut up and put on their best phony smiles. This was it the real reason we all left our luxurious homes and spent 3 hours in the hot blistering California sun, the will. Now, Grandfather has left all of his assets to Grandmother and hopefully, the most valuable assets will be given to MY family. Personally I was hoping to be given her flat in London. Every summer I would spend a month there walking through the gardens, having tea in ancient places, and just spending time with her. It was my favorite city in the world and I couldn't wait to live there.

“Thank you all for gathering here today for the reading of Mrs. Victoria Goodwinson’s will and testament,” said the monotone attorney, “please save your questions for the end of the reading I’d like to begin.”

I kinda zoned out the beginning, but then he started with the good stuff.

“The mid-size private jet, Amazon shares, New York apartment residence and all that is in it, and a 5 million dollar allowance goes to Mr. Charles and Mrs. Anne Goodwinson,” continued the attorney, his voice becoming a little hoarse from all of the talking. Uncle Charles and Aunt Anne looked satisfied with their lot.

“The large size private jet, the L.A. mansion and all that is in it, and a 5 million dollar allowance goes to Mr. Henry and Mrs. Mary Goodwinson.”

I know Mother was hoping for the yacht that was given to Uncle Richard and Aunt Elizabeth, but getting the L.A. house, the house that Grandmother and Grandfather lived in, was enough to make her satisfied. The mansion had countless paintings that could sell for millions, plus the location was ideal and would sell for double what Grandfather had originally bought it for.

“Now for the client’s grandchildren,” said Mr. get-to-the-point finally getting to the point “to Mr. William Speakman the London flat and a 2.5 million allowance is given.”

I just sat there in shock. What?! Are you kidding me? Crackhead Willy got the London flat and not me! This is absurd. Despite my outrage, I kept a smile on my face and my shoulders back.

“And finally to our last recipient, Mrs. Whitney Goodwinson…”

I leaned forward a bit just waiting for what the old man was gonna say. Since I wasn’t getting the London flat, maybe Grandmother had a secret cottage in the French countryside or another apartment in Italy. Anything would have been better than what Mr. bad news Bob said next.

“The Outer Banks, North Carolinian residence and a 3.5 million allowance will be given. This closes the end of the reading of the will and testament. Any questions can be asked now.”

Oh boy did I have questions. First off what the hell was Grandmother thinking. Outer Banks!? A dingy island that I had never been too?! I had never heard Grandmother speak of it and had to find out from Father that it was the island where Grandmother first met Grandfather. That meant it was also the place where she died, which did not seem right.

“Whitney she didn’t die in the house, she died in a hospital on the mainland,” said Mother while lighting a cigarette, a “once in a while” habit of hers. We were on the balcony of my parents’ new mansion looking over the Los Angeles skyline. Mother and Father wasted no time kicking everyone out and moving into their new home. In the distance, I could see the sun setting into the Pacific Ocean. It hurt me that in a few hours I would be leaving this perfect place and would be looking at a completely different ocean on the other side of the country in a town where I didn’t know anybody and was unfamiliar with. “And don’t complain it was your grandmother's dying wish to give you her old shack in North Carolina, the least you could do is visit it before you sell it.”

“Fine,” I said rolling my eyes, “I just hope someone is willing to buy.”

“Don’t worry honey we already have a list of possible buyers and I have a personal friend who’s a realtor there who said that she’d help you out. I told her you would be arriving tomorrow and she’s gonna come by the house.” Ah yes, my mother ladies and gents all ready setting up people for me to meet. I swear she knows people in every state, but at least I’ll have help selling the shack.

“You’re sure I can’t take the private jet?” I pleaded with my best “please take pity on me because I got screwed out of a London flat” face.

“Honey you know that your father and I need to go to Sweden to pick out new furniture for the house. Flying first class will be fine and I’m sorry you have to take a red-eye, but it was so last minute You know what’s funny? Your father and I already had a plane ticket to London for you,” she laughed, “we were so sure the flat was yours!” I did not in fact think it was funny.

“Yeah me too,” I said miserably.

“It’ll be fine honey, who knows,” she said snuffing out her cigarette,” you might even like it there.”

I highly doubt that.

a/n: First chapter is finally up! Thank you for reading and not dropping out after the first sentence! Second chapter should be up shortly, for the time being I’m going to be posting two chapters at a time every other day. I figure this will motivate me even more to write! I am so excited for you guys to see where the story goes and all of its twists and turns! Stay tuned for the next chapter!

#jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x original character #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fandom #jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fandom #obx #obx fanfiction #obx fandom #jj outer banks

13 notes · View notes

romansleftshoulderpad · 6 years ago

Text

Barren: Chapter 13

Ships: Moralogince, hinted analogical, Eventual LAMP, mentions of QPR Remile

Words: 1,870

Warnings: Death mentions, grieving, mention of past Major Character Death, minor fire mention (in the form of candles), food mention, self blame, sex mention

Previous / Next

--- “Amazing grace.” Candles flickered throughout the bunker. It wasn’t much, but Patton had managed to get a bouquet of roses to place next to framed photographs of Remy. It was hard to find ones where he was smiling. “How sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.” As they sang softly, Logan intertwined his hand with Roman’s. “I once was lost, but now am found.” Elliot stood at the edge of the room, still clad in their usual greys and browns they remained the only person not in fully black attire. Virgil’s eyes drifted towards the other three; Roman’s free hand reached to link with Patton’s. “Was blind but now I see.”

The funeral was almost pathetic. A room of five people, one of whom had never truly known the deceased, when Remy should have had so much more. Patton had split off from Roman to kneel by the makeshift shrine and say a silent prayer; Virgil hadn’t seen the point. There was no sun or life in the bunker. There were no gods to look after them in there.

Virgil had found himself at Emile’s door with a cold turkey sandwich standing frozen as he listened to the choked sobs coming from the other side. He cleared his throat and knocked. “Em?” he asked, the collar of Logan’s polo seeming to choke him. “Can I come in?”

The sobs quieted but there was no answer. Virgil wondered if Emile blamed him for Remy’s death. Remy had died protecting him after all. “I’m not hungry,” Picani said weakly.

Virgil took a deep breath. That’s bullshit, Em. He debated opening the door. Hungry or not you still need to eat. He cracked the door open just enough to put the plate inside and closed the door. I blame myself too.

He walked away from the door.

Patton had busied himself with chores and work; Roman had kept himself moving and walking around. Neither of them could deal with the loss. Even Logan had been distant and keeping to himself. Yet Elliot wandered, simply trying to get a feel for where they were, and how long they could survive.

When Logan found Patton, he had been sitting on the couch distracting himself with a pair of knitting needles and yarn. A pile of finished washcloths sat next to him, and he seemed to be working on a scarf. “Patton, do you mind if I join you?”

Patton patted the seat next to him and placed his needles and yarn on the table. “Only if you’re okay with cuddles,” he said with a soft smile. Logan sat down, offering open arms to Patton but finding himself surprised when Patton pulled him into something between a side hug and being a little spoon. “Can I play with your hair?” Patton asked.

Logan was hesitant. His hair had always been flat and kind of dry, not something that seemed pleasant to play with. But he knew what Patton really meant, please keep me busy. “Of course, Patton,” he said softly, leaning in to the touch and melting softly into Patton’s side.

“I know he was important to you,” Patton said, carding his fingers through Logan’s hair.

“He taught me everything I know.”

There was a moment of silence. “Me too.” The air seemed full of unspoken words and half forgotten memories. “I guess he was like our dad, ya know.”

“I understand the sentiment, but I have to disagree. Remy is one hundred percent what you and Roman would call a mom friend.”

Patton laughed, nearly pushing Logan off of the couch as he doubled over in pain. “Excuse you,” he laughed. “Remy is our dad and Emile is our mom.”

“I see my error,” Logan teased. “And where does that leave the rest of us?”

“Hmmm,” Patton pretended to think to himself. “That makes Virgil your son.”

Logan scrunched up his face in overdramatic disgust. “No way. Virgil is not my son.”

“Why not?” Patton teased with a laugh. “Don’t you care about him?”

“Well of course I... care... about him.” Logan’s face turned pink as he spoke. “Just in... a not very... fatherly way.”

“Oh?” Patton tilted his head in confusion before opening his jaw and letting his expression drop into a more soothing appearance. “Oh. I see.” He smiled teasingly, running his fingers through Logan’s hair. “Does our little Logan have a crush?”

“Patton, don’t be so immature. I have bigger problems to deal with than attempting to categorize my feelings towards... Virgil. I have bigger problems than Virgil.”

“You know I’m just teasing, Logan,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Logan’s scalp as he pulled him closer. “But if you did want to confess to him, I know he cares about you, Lo. We all do. And I know... that any of us would feel like the luckiest man alive to have you care for m- him. Care for him.”

Logan stayed silent but wrapped his arms tightly around Patton’s waist as the guilt settled in both of their chests. Logan thought about Virgil, and he thought about Patton as well as what those feelings meant, but his mind found a way to drift back to Roman. To the kiss. The human mind was surely a dangerous thing.

“Patton, I... well, Roman and I, we-“

“Shhh, you don’t need to say anything,” Patton said. “I know you two have fought and argued, there’s probably nothing you could tell me that Roman hasn’t already, anyway.”

“But we-“ Logan sighed, nuzzling into Patton’s chest. He mumbled quietly under his breath, “I love you.”

Virgil couldn’t help but almost feel nostalgic when he saw Elliot. They were confused and lost, probably missing friends or family. He had lost track of how long it had been, but he knew they were just like he was when he first arrived.

He kept staring at Picani’s door. Emile had been the first person to warm up to him, perhaps he could help Elliot adjust as well. “Has he come out yet?” Virgil asked.

“Uh, he has a pride flag in his offi- you- you meant out of his room, right,” Elliot mumbled. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

“Damnit,” Virgil mumbled, dropping his shoulders with an exhale.

“Virgil? Can I ask you a question?”

Virgil glanced at the door one last time before turning his attention to Elliot. Picani could wait. “What’s up?”

“How did you... adjust?” they asked. “How did you leave it all behind?”

“I ask myself that question everyday,” Virgil said. “But I never had many attachments, it wasn’t hard to leave them behind.” He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh, and leaned against the doorframe. “My only real regret is never getting to tell my mom goodbye. I was arrested at school, I couldn’t have known that that was the last time I’d ever see her- or- or the last lunch she’d ever make me.”

“Virgil, I- I’m so sorry,” Elliot said.

“It’s fine,” Virgil insisted. “I trust that she knows what I would have said.”

“I... my friend, Kai,” Elliot said. “He protected me when no one else would. I don’t know what happened to him.”

Virgil put a hand on Elliot’s shoulder. “We’ll keep an eye out for any news on him.”

“Thanks.”

“Come on, I’ll show you around,” Virgil said. “It’s easy to get lost around here.”

As they walked away from the door, Picani slowly stood, his knees weak and hands shaking. Nicole. Of course he wanted to see Nicole. He picked up his pen and notepad and began to write...

They had nearly fallen asleep when Roman had walked in. “Good, you’re both here,” he said, sitting at the far end of the couch. Logan and Patton adjusted to properly see him. “I need to talk to you.”

“Are you okay?” Logan asked quietly.

“I’m alive,” he said, “and that’s all I can really ask for.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve recently realized that I’m polyamorous-“

“Aww, Roman, thank you for telling u-“

“I’m not done, Patton.” He interlocked his own fingers, feeling his heart race as he swallowed his pride. “And I... I have feelings for you. Both of you. Giant, mushy, romantic feelings! Okay?! I- I dream of playing with your hair and kissing your cheeks and your mouths and- yeah, as awkward as this is to admit- yeah I’ve even thought about having sex with you once or twice, or a couple dozen times!”

“Roman,” they both murmured.

“I- I’m sorry if this is awkward or- or uncomfortable I just...,” Roman let his head hang as he curled in on himself and hid his face in his palms. “I couldn’t die knowing this was left unsaid.”

“Roman, come here,” Logan said with open arms. Roman crawled into his lap, feeling both men’s arms around him. “If this is the proper time for confessions then I, too, must say that I’ve had feelings of that sort towards you for quite some time. You and Patton.”

They both looked to Patton who had tears in his eyes. “I... I never thought this would be... real, you know?”

“I know,” Roman whispered and Logan held him closer.

They all sat in the serenity, the eye of the storm of emotions, and basked in the fragile love and unspoken words. For one fractal of a moment, everything seemed like it just may actually be alright.

Virgil knocked on the doorframe, he held a pad of paper in his hands and he looked messy and disheveled. When he locked eyes with the other three he straightened his posture and tried to appear calm- yet Logan still noticed his white knuckles and the quick rise and fall of his chest. “Am I interrupting something?” Virgil asked.

“As a matter of fact-“

“You aren’t interrupting anything, Virgil.”

Virgil nervously handed over the notepad to Logan. “Picani, he- he left this note. He ran off and I- I think it’s my fault.”

“4-7-8, Virgil,” Logan said calmly. “Remember what I taught you.”

Patton looked over the note, scanning every line and detail. “This isn’t your fault. He just needs some space, okay?”

“He- He probably blames me,” Virgil said. “It’s all my fault that he’s dead. I should’ve taken that bullet, not him.”

“No. Stop that,” Logan commanded.

“We’re in a dangerous line of work,” Patton explained. “Remy knew the risks when he joined the organization. He knew the risks when he took in me and Roman. He knew the risks when he took in Logan.”

“And he knew that we need you,” Roman said. “Picani just needs some time alone, and you need some time with people who love you.”

“But, I-“

“No ‘but’, Virgil. Lay with us. Relax. You’ve had a long few days.”

Virgil thought for a moment but slowly sat down, maneuvering himself into Roman’s lap as the others touched him softly and played with his hair. He relaxed into Roman, who sang a soft tune in his ear. He fell asleep with Patton’s hand on his back, Logan’s arm around his waist, and his forehead pressed against Roman’s cheek.

“I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind but now I see.”

#Barren

124 notes · View notes

maybemitch · 6 years ago

Text

LETTERS FROM THE DEAD

DESCRIPTION: Folded pieces of paper, littered the top draw of Y/N’s desk.

WARNING: Implied character death. Mentions of deceased characters (Brody, Marlon, Mitch). Just a whole lot of death. Swearing.

WORD COUNT: 2252

━━━⋆☆⋆━━━

When the news of Y/N dying broke, everyone in Ericson was in a sense of mourning. Everyone which was a member of the school - apart from Clementine and AJ - knew Y/N.

Y/N was a member of the school just as the dead started to work, yet their parents came and collected them right away. In a sense of protection. Therefore, because they came and collected them, the students left at Ericson didn't see Y/N for a while. That was until two years into the apocalypse. Y/N had remember their way back to the school and found themselves standing in front of the gates which were ever so familiar to them. Marlon was the one which saw them at the gate, his jaw drops. Marlon never thought he'd see Y/N again, but there they were standing, blood, sweat and dirt coating their skin, their weapons (which was a knife) in their hands. Most of the kids were surprised when they saw Y/N but welcomed them right back into the school wall.

Everyone in Ericson was in a sense of mourning because they always thought that Y/N would be one of the people which made it to the new world, they always fascinated about. They never expected them to get bitten. But then again, no one could control what happened in the world.

Violet was the one which suggested that they should bury Y/N's things like they did with Tenn's sisters. This would allow those in the school to go and mourn properly. Therefore, Violet and AJ were collecting Y/N's things and placing them into a box.

AJ opened up the draw to the identical desk he had in his dorm room, white folded pieces of paper slide side to side in the draws. Curiously, he reached for one, unfolding it, noticing, black and blue scribbles on it. Writing.

Violet noticed AJ's confusion when she turned around, her arms folding across her chest, "What you got there AJ?" her voice was soft. She was in pain for losing another friend.

AJ held the piece of paper up in the air, twisting it around, as if it was something unfamiliar to him, "It's some writing," unfortunately, the small boy couldn't figure out what was written on the paper, the handwriting was sloppy. Therefore, he held it out for Violet, "Can you read it?"

Violet walked over slowly, gently taking it from the boys hands. She inspected it. It definitely was Y/N writing. She knew that from the way which the letters were conjoined, it was something Y/N use to do in the class they shared together.

A small smile plastered on Violet's lips, before folding the piece of paper back up. The words left unread. How it should be.

AJ looked at her in confusion, "Why didn't you read it?"

"Its an invasion of privacy," Violet explained, the piece of paper clenched in her hand, "Y/N wrote them for themselves. I... I couldn't read their thoughts."

AJ nodded his head. He somewhat understood why Violet didn't want to read the letter. It was similar to the situation AJ was in when he first arrived at the school and tried to read Aasim's journal. The words which people write are sometimes private and only should be read if the person reading them allows it.

AJ looked back into the draw, noticing more folded piece of paper, before casting another look to the blonde who had her eyes closed. "Hey, Vi. What shall I do with the other letters Y/N wrote?"

Violet open her eyes, looking into the desk draw. There was around four folded piece of paper inside. All probably scribbled on with thoughts, with feelings which Y/N felt. Each one of these letters absorbed every piece of pain which lingered in Y/N's conscience. Violet couldn't bring herself to invade that.

"Past them here," Violet held out her hands. She didn't know where to put them. She didn't want to burn them - she might not want to read them, but someone in the future might. She didn't want to hide them away in the cupboard, they might be completely forgetting about then. Violet just didn't want to disrespect her deceased friend, they might have not been close when they were alive, but they were basically family.

"What are you going to do with them?" AJ asked as he placed the last one into Violet's hand.

Violet sighed, "But them somewhere safe, most likely. I can't get rid of them."

AJ continued to pack up the room, Violet had her hand on her pocket, ensuring that none of the papers fell from her pocket. The zip was broken, that the reason she didn't just zip them up. Whilst the two were packing up the room, they didn't speak much. The occasionally question came from AJ and the answer came from Violet.

Eventually, the room was packed away. It was as if the room had never been used before, not a single trace of human existence present inside the room.

Violet took a deep breath when she stood at the door, taking in the room. The curtains danced with the slight breeze which fluttered through, but that was all the movement in the room. For now and most likely for good. The blonde slowly shut the door, the click of the lock made her hear sink further into her chest.

"I'm going to find Clem," AJ announced to the girl which had her back pressed up against the shut door. "You can come with me, if you like. That's if you don't want to be alone."

Violet shook her head, pushing herself of the door, making her way towards her room, "I'm alright, little man. I'll come catch up with you in a little while? How's that sound?"

AJ nodded his head, lingering in his spot for a moment. He didn't want to leave Violet, he didn't want her to hurt by herself, but he couldn't connect to the pain which Violet felt, considering he only knew Y/N for a few weeks. A few weeks is nothing compared to years.

Violet waved AJ off, before opening her door and stepping inside. She didn't shut the door, she allowed the wind from the window to do it for her, the clock echoed in the room. A signal that she was now alone.

The first thing which she did was take out the letter scraps she had bunched up in her pocket. She lay they astray on the desk, not knowing where else she could put them. Whilst she paced around her shared room, her eyes kept drifting over to them.

An urge inside of her wanting to read them but the other half does not. Violet ended up bringing her hands to her mouth, nibbling slightly at her dirty nails and the skin around them, before caving into the temptation of wanting to know what ran through her friends mind.

"I'm sorry Y/N," Violet mumbled into the room, looking up at the sky, "Please forgive me."

She snatched the five notes on the table, before sitting down on her floor, her back pressed up against the metal bed frame. She unfolded them timidly, her hands shaking as she did so. Some letters were long, some were short. But Violet could already tell that each letter was written from the heart, that emotion had caved it's way into the writing.

Letter One:

We're not living in this world, its were surviving it. And that's the thing... surviving this world had (that’s the key word; had) been my plan. To outlive the dead had been my plan from the very beginning. But now, my main priority is making sure my friends survive. That's all that matters to me now. I couldn't care less what happens to me. If I get bit (which is a likely scenario) then I get bit. I don't want my friends to worry about me. Yeah, maybe somewhere in the world someone has survived an amputation to the infected limb, but I don't want to give them hope. If I get bit. Then that's it for me. That's the end of the line. With most all of my friends I have promised them that they'd get to see the new world. Some laughed, saying that it was a ridiculous assumption and that was never going to happen. My optimism seems to be funny to some, but that’s doesn’t bother me. Whilst some laughed. Some held hope that maybe I was telling the truth. But the things is, I am telling the truth. They’re going to make it to the new world. However, I won’t though. The new world isn’t for me.

Letter Two:

We welcomed new people into our home today. Their names were Clementine and AJ. They seem like nice people. They seemed to know how to survive the world. I don’t know how long they’ve been outside for, in the open world. But I know it’s been longer than me, longer than the other kids. Clementine and AJ seem like the people which would also make it to the new world. They both seem to know how to make it around this world. I would be envious of them, that they know how to survive, that they would make it to the new world. But in all honesty, I don’t mind at all.

Letter Three:

The small boy, AJ. He shot Marlon. And Brody. She's also dead. Apparently, Marlon killed her? I don't know what to believe. I thought they were nice. Fuck. We held a funeral for our friends. And afterwards, we held a vote for the two new comers. Violet, Tenn and Aasim voted for those to stay. I refused to vote. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. What Marlon did was wrong, trade the twins, accidentally kill Brody. And what AJ did was wrong, killing Marlon. [a section which was unreadable] Clementine came back. AJ was wounded. They came across people in the woods which were looking for the school. We're preparing for a war. Maybe no one will see the new world after all? I know for a fact I wouldn’t be.

Letter Four:

Death came knocking on Ericon's door again, claiming the life of Mitch, after he heroically saved Tennessee. He didn't deserve it. The people which are at war with are called Delta. They took Omar, Aasim and Louis. Clementine promises to bring them all back from Delta. She promises that we will win.But what's the point of a victory if no everyone can celebrate? Either way. We’ve already lost.

Letter Five:

Fighting a war of tiring. I can’t do it. Fighting humans is different than fighting the dead. Humans. At the end of the day; humans are a dying race. Were being overpopulated by the dead. So why should we try and kill one another? There is no point in doing it. Clementine. She promised that we’ll get our friends backs. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Hopefully everyone comes back, so they can see the new world i’ve promised them. Delta. They’re evil fuckers people. What they did to my friends. What they did to Louis. They deserves to fucking burn. What I said earlier about us humans being a dying race, doesn’t matter. Delta. They. Fuck. Minerva was there. I saw her get bit on the cheek - I remember promising her the new world. After all, she did get one. But not the one which was meant for her. Not the one I promised. I suppose what I’ve been doing, giving promises out to my friends has been foolish? Selfish? I just wanted them happy. I didn’t want them panic. I just wanted them to be happy. But i’ve been meaning what i’ve been saying. About me not making it to the new world. I know that because... i was bit. Trying to escape the walkers on the beach. It was only a small graze on my ankle, a small bite. But it’s still infectious. I’m just sorry to my friends. I understand that this is going to cause them pain. But i’ve always vocalised that I wasn’t going to make it. And if they didn’t believe me, then they were foolish.

Violet placed down the letters. Her throat clenching from fighting the tears. She obviously knew that Y/N got bit. Violet was one of the people which didn’t believe what they said. She didn’t believe that Y/N wasn’t going to make it. So she was foolish.

Violet smiled, her eyebrows knitting together when she noticed something sprawled in the corner of one of the piece of paper. She wonder how she didn’t see it. But it was small writing.

Violet picked the paper back up, brining the paper close to her face, so she could read the rough writing.

Maybe I did make it to the new world? Maybe that’s what peace is? Maybe peace is the new world.

Violet smiled sadly at the words, a small tear falling. She quickly wiped it away, crying was never her thing, but after all, if she’s hurting, she’s going to let her emotions show.

“Of course,” she smiled, “Of course only you’d say that, Y/N.”

━━━⋆☆⋆━━━

I don’t know how i feel about this piece of writing. I haven’t wrote in a while. But still.

90 notes · View notes

bixshits · 5 years ago

Text

Lost Odyssey - A Thousand Years of Dreams - Story Fourteen Transcript

Elegy Island

This happened a long, long time ago.

On a small island - which has since perished - they had an odd custom.

They mourned their dead with song: with elegies.

The songs would play without ceasing from the last moments before death, through the funeral, to the burial.

Elegies would be sung for many purposes: to ease the grief of the family, to recall the legacy of the deceased, to appease the soul of the one who died under stressful cicumstances, to celebrate one person's having lived to a ripe, old age, or to evoke anger at another's pointless death.

There were no fixed melodies or lyrics. Apparently the songs were sung without lyrics at all.

"No documents have survived, so all we can do is assemble oral histories," sighs the achaeologist as she views the island from the deck of the ship.

The people of that island country had no writing system, which means they had no way to leave behind signs or evidence of their lives.

"I wish we could at least interview a few survivors. but there weren't any. Every single person was killed."

The research team's archaeologist is a young woman in her twenties. Her country is the one that destroyed the island. It happened while her ancestors, seven generations back, were still young people.

"I hate to bad mouth my own country," she says with a shrug, "but they really didn't have to go that far."

"That far" is no exaggeration.

Her country prided itself on it's overwhelming military force. For it to gain mastery over the tiny island would have been as simple as twisting an infant's arm.

But her country believed in oppressing its neighbours with force. The leaders were thinking more of those neighbours then of the lands itself when it launched its all-out attack.

It was scorched from end to end.

Every human being on the island - from newborn babies to elders on the verge of death - was killed without mercy.

"It's odd, though," says the young woman with a grim smile, "there are hardly any records left from that time, even in our country."

"I suppose what they did was so terrible, they didn't want their descendants to know about it."

Her remark prompts some older scholars on board to clear their throats, at the sound of which she snaps her mouth shut.

"Sorry," she whispers, "you're not much older than I am, you porbably don't want to hear about all this old stuff anyway..."

"I do, though."

"What interest can a sailor like you have in these boring academic matters?"

Kaim only shakes his head in silence.

Suddenly things become very busy on deck. The boat is approaching the island and has entered a stretch of intricate channels where the skills of the crew will be tested.

The boatswain calls Kaim.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the woman says, "I shouldn't be monopolising your time. You've got work to do..."

Even as she apologizes, the talkative young archaeologist asks Kaim.

"Do you mind if I ask you one last question?"

"Please, ask away," he replies, stopping in his tracks.

She looks around to make sure no one is listening and whispers, "I'm sure this is your first time taking a research team over...."

"Uh-huh."

"And your first time going to the island?"

"Well, yes..."

"So you probably don't know about some of the bad stories they tell about this place - that some scholars who go there fall under a curse. Like, they get sick while doing their research on the island, or they become mentally unstable after they get home. I've heard some even killed themselves."

"You mean a long time ago, right?"

"Right. This is the first research trip in fifty years. Up to them, every time they sent out a team, one or two of the members would suffer the curse. This is why they put a stop to them all these years. So I'm a little scared myself..."

She sends a mock shudder through her body. "I just thought I'd ask if you could teach me some magic spell for getting back safely..."

Kaim looks straight at her - not merely taking in her appearance but searching for the person deep inside.

"You'll be fine," he says.

"You think so?"

"I'm pretty sure you'll be okay"

She looks at him questioningly.

"If you hear singing, though," he adds "hum along with it"

"What do you mean?" she asks, her expression increasingly uneasy, but Kaim says nothing more.

"Get over here now, Mister!" the boatswain shouts at Kaim, who heads for his station.

He did tell the woman one white lie, though.

This is not his first time coming to the island.

He has been here many times before.

Hes first trip happened a long, long time ago.

As the archaeologist said, that islands elegies had no fixed melody or lyrics. They were all sung extemporaneously and never repeated.

A hundred deaths required a hundred elegies.

Nor did mourners agree in advance on the nature of their elegy before they started singing. At frist, each would sing his or her own song expressing his or her own feelings about the deceased. Eventually, the jumble of songs would come together into a single melody without any one singer taking the lead.

In the culture of this island that had no writing, there was, of course, no musical notation. There were no instruments for accompaniment either. Each mourner, in grieving for the loved one, would give voice to hopes for a peaceful journey, and a song would emerge.

Kaim's travels first brought him here when the island was at peace, which is to say, centuries ago.

He happened to arrive just after the death of a village elder. For three days and nights, an elegy was sung around the clock. The island people's song, which shook the darkness and reverberated all across the clear, blue daytime sky, left its mark with a certain ennobling comfort in the breast of Kaim, a man for whom fate had decreed that no one would ever sing an elegy.

To think that such an island had been burned to the ground!

The people fled in all directions at once, and were murdered one at a time.

It was an absolute bloodbath.

Kaim knows about the atrocities that accompanied the butchery - things that were not handed down to the generation of the young archaeologist.

Had it wished to, the woman's country could have taken control of the island in a single night, but instead it used its military power to chase down each of the islands inhabitants over a period of several days as if carefully filling in the blank spaces in a coloring book.

The island became enveloped in elegies.

At first, while the living still outnumbered the dead, voices in elegiac song all but shook the island with their volume.

As the days went by, however, and the dead came to outnumber the living, the sobbing voices in song grew ever fainter.

When the battle reaches its final phase, the few remaining islanders, who had been cornered in the islands northern tip, fled into a large cave.

They resigned themselves to death.

All that was left for them to do was pray that they might be allowed to die with some degree of peace.

But even this small measure of hope they were unable to wring from their attackers.

The army of the archaeologist's country wert for maximum brutality. The entered the cave with every weapon at their command, and they dragged out and killed one islander per day.

Today is was an old man.

The next day it was a young man.

The day after that they tortured to death a young mother with an infant at her breast, and the following day the infant they force from her arms was put to death.

The elegies resounded without interruption.

The singing voices that escaped from the cave invaded the ears of the soldiers who were carrying on the masacre. Those soldiers with kind hears collapsed one after another, or they went mad and left the front line.

Song was the final weapon of the islanders, who had no other means to fight.

They went on singing as they struggled against starvation, thirst, and their own fears.

The commanding officer of the anti-insurgency force ordered his men to fill in the mouth of the cave. If they buried the people alive, he thought, the singing would no longer be audible.

Nevertheless, their singing continued.

It went on, day after day.

Rainy days, clear days, daytime, nighttime it continued, but no longer without breaks, which gradually increased in length.

The singing went beyond being an elegy for a single person and became a song suffused with the sorrow of all the living things on the island.

About the time the season ended, the last thing thread of singing died out.

The army left the island.

Not a single record of these military operations was left.

Never again did anyone come to live on the island.

The first research team in fifty years is plagued by difficulties.

One scholar after another collapses.

Almost every day, someone is sent out to the vessel anchored offshore, sick.

All of the scholars moan with pain, blocking their ears.

The situation is exactly what it was before the island was sealed from research.

Kaim knows exactly what is happening.

The ocean breeze sweeping across the island sounds like a song.

The brances swaying in the forrest sound like a song.

The birds in the trees sound like a song.

The babbling of a brook sounds like a song.

The treading of boots on piled-up fallen leaves sounds like a song.

The crashing and receding of waves on the shore sounds like a song.

The elegy for the island that people sang with every last bit of life they could dredge up from inside themselves, now is being sung by the island itself.

"Please stop, I beg you, please stop..."

The scholars cry out in their delirium, covering their ears.

"I dont know what we did. It was our ancestors, not us."

The scholars who maon this hear anger and sorrow in the constanty recunding elegy.

What they say is true: it is not their fault.

But they have been given no knowledge of what happened on this island so long ago.

Sometimes, not knowing can be a profound sin.

They should prick up their ears and listen all the more.

That is what Kaim has always done.

The elegy being sung by the island is not merely hurling hatred and anger at them.

The island is not trying to torture members of the younger generation like them who are without sin.

Rather than blocking their ears, they should listen.

If they do so, the message will reach them.

For the island is telling them.

"You must know the truth. You must know what actually happened on this island so long ago."

The investigation ends much earlier than originally planned.

Most of the research team have returned to the ship, their health broken, and some of the more seriosly ill members have been sent home. It is no longer possible to continue the work.

The young archaeologist who spoke to Kaim on the way in is one of the few who have persevered to the end.

"Thanks to you," she says to Kaim.

As soon as she climbed from the launch into the ship she saw Kaim standing on deck and hurried over to him.

She looks haggard, but her fatigue is clearly less phyical than mental.

Still, her eyes harbor a strong-willed gleam.

"Did you hear the singing?" he asks.

"I did," she says with a nod, looking back at the receding island.

"It was so sad!"

Just as he had thought: she was able to open herself to the sadness.

"Did you sing along with it?"

"Yes, I did that, too - partly because of what you said to me, but I also found myself humming the same tune quite naturally."

Kaim nods and smiles at her.

This is the first time he has encountered anyone with the heart to hear the island's elergy.

"This time when i get home," she says, "I want to do some more serious research on the war. It's something I have to do, I almost feel I don't have any choice in the matter."

"I'm glad to hear that," he says.

"I might turn up some facts that my country finds inconvenient, but I feel its absolutely necessary to learn the truth - to know what actually happened."

The ship emerges into the open sea.

A single white bird flies out from the island is if seeing the ship off on its journey.

Tracing a great arc against the blue sky, it releases one high, ringing cry.

No longer an elegy, this is a song of joy and forgiveness signaling the dawn of a new age.

#lost odyssey #kaim argonar #seth balmore #sarah sisulart #ming numara #jansen friedh #cooke and mack #cooke #mack #a thousand years of dreams #1000 years of dreams

0 notes

stevelovesbarnes-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Blue is the warmest colour

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Summary: When Dean Winchester went to hell and his younger brother Sam left with Ruby, Bobby Singer’s daughter, Y/N forms a friendship with an angel of the lord.

A/N: Easter holidays are finally here, which means I can get to write some fics I’ve been planning to. This idea popped on my head in the gym yesterday and I’ve been too excited for it. Hope you enjoy.

Blue is the warmest colour. It really is. Blue is a symbol for serenity, peace and clarity. It is associated to the sky and the ocean. Blue shows intelligence and dignity. Out of all colours, most people seem to choose it as a favorite due to it’s either cheerful or dark appearence without acknowledging the real powers of it.

Blue is really his colour.

The second day of May 2008, also Sam Winchester’s birthday, a deadly incident occured. It was not unexpected. Everyone knew. It was the day Dean Winchester was killed by hellhounds. His friends and brother tried their best to save him but it just wasn’t enough.

After they burried his body on a hill Sam left with the demon Ruby to find a way and bring him back. This is the same reason why they didn’t give him a proper hunter funeral. Being left alone, Bobby Singer’s only daughter moved back in with her father in Sioux Falls,Iowa.

Her relationship with the Winchesters was as a bond three siblings had. They loved each other. She used and would always see them as the older brothers she never had. So, when the hellhounds broke through the door and killed Dean, she was devastated.

She felt numb.

“Humanity never ceases to amaze me" A gruff voice reverberated besides the broken woman. She sighed and quirked her head a little to take a good look of the man. He wore a beige trenchcoat, it hugged his body in a perfect way, like it was made for him. His dark hair were messy and his eyes, blue.

Surprised and taken back from his statement, her tongue felt like it was tied in tight knots that disabled her from speaking. Inhaling a deep breath, she found the courage to speak. “It…Does?”

He nodded and kept his stare at the lake. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he gulped. Y/N looked at her lap where her fingers fidgeted with each other. “Why?” She questioned.

“I find people’s habits interesting. Pointless but interesting. Others laugh at jokes or uncomfortable situations, others feed the animals and others excersice. It is truly unbelievable how life works.“ He admitted. His gaze met Y/N’s. She giggled and he looked rather confused but proud of himself for bringing a smile to her face.

“Well, feeding animals and excersing isn’t actually pointless. It is good for you- and the ducks” The corners of his lips turned upwards, offering Y/N a sincere and rare smile. It was beautiful. He didn’t know the exact reason why she, a human, made him smile like that. Maybe it was her soft and gentle voice or her beautiful smile. Maybe it was generally her. “What is your name?“

“Castiel. What about yours?”

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you” She felt her phone buzzing. Unzipping worriedly the pocket of her leather jacket she took out the mobile device and anxiously turned it on. She exhaled a sigh of relief as sated the phone back in her warm pocket. It was just a message from phone services.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“I suppose” He still looked confused and probably didn’t believe her. She didn’t look alright. He knew that already. Angels feel other’s emotions. Y/N felt sadness, anger, disappointment, anxiety and fear. Sadness for losing her friend. Anger and disappointment towards herself for not being able to save him. Anxiety for what could happen next to her father and friend and fear for what might be the outcome. He knew she was lying.

“You lost someone?” She squeezed her eyes shut as tears threatened to cloud her vision. He patiently waited for her to calm down.

“My best friend, Dean.” Memories of him, her and his brother surrounded her mind. Happy, sad and relaxing. “He…He was killed.”

“I am sorry” He acknowledged what had happened to Dean Winchester. There were talks for him in heaven. Rumors said he was going to be Michael’s new vessel if Lucifer escaped the cage. There were plans for the temporary deceased hunter. Y/N was the actual reason of Castiel’s plan. There was a purpose waiting for her too.

“It is alright” She gazed unto the sky in order to avoid salty tears from covering her once happy face. His hand travelled from his sides to her shoulder in order to show any type of comfort. Even though she just met him, she felt safe around him. She was grateful for the excistence of people like him in this cruel world.

She was just another face now.

Their first encounter at the park, wasn’t their last. He often visited her on the same spot almost every day, discussing about any topic. He wouldn’t miss their meeting for the world. Her smile grew more every day. Bobby was now relieved that his daughter’s feeling weren’t eating up her insides.

Castiel made a friend. He never had one that belonged in the human species. She helped him understand the human traditions and everyday habits. He wanted to give her a gift. Not a simple necklace or flowers. He wanted to give her something real. Something she would really appreciate.

He searched for information about Dean Winchester.

On the 18th of September, same year, Y/N received a call from her father. This day, Castiel didn’t show up in the park. The only thing she heard was “Hurry up and come home, sweetheart.”

So she ran towards her house. She didn’t even care about what people would say or think. She needed to make sure her dad was safe. Rushing to the door, she knocked the wooden surface worriedly.

Dean Winchester opened the door.

He was back.

Days passed and she hadn’t heard a thing from Castiel. She did miss her friend. She missed their talks. Dean was back from the dead and the team was back together. Something was missing from Y/N’s picture, though. Or, was it someome?

The Winchester brothers and she were done with a case in a small town. They were all exhausted and Y/N needed to rest. Her muscles felt sore and the few bruises forming on her skin begun to show pain.

She was about to enter the motel when she felt a familiar presence. She couldn’t tell but it was a soothing feeling. When Dean unlocked the entrance to the room Y/N gasped and smiled widely at the sight in front of her.

“Castiel!”

He was back too.

The apocalypse was starting. There was not much to do. A mistake costed a lot to everyone. Lucifer had now taken control of Sam’s body. He was about to fight with Michael on an old graveyard. The armageddon. It was happening.

“Everything will be alright Y/N. I promise” Castiel whispered taking Y/N’s face in the palms of his hands. Unbearable panic attacked her. Castiel caught her as her knees went weak. “You need to calm down. C'mon, focus on my voice honeybee.” Her breathing and heartbeat slowed down to a steady rythm as his fingertips ever so gently stroked her skin sending chills down her spine. He stared deep into her E/C eyes. His vessel’s blue eyes soothed her anxiety. He made her feel safe. Not daring to lose any more time, Castiel dipped in and captured her lips in a passionate first kiss. She felt at peace for a moment and when she opened her eyes, she swore she could see his wings wrapping protectively around her.

It wasn’t long till her world was lost again.

Lucifer pinned Y/N down with a telekinetic force as Michael stood next to him. Dean was shoved to the hood of his impala, emmiting an audible groan. Out of a sudden Castiel and Bobby showed up. Her Cas was holding a bottle of Holy Oil and fire.

“Hey, Assbutt” He yelled when Lucifer was about to touch Y/N and finally molotoved his older brother, Michael. Lucifer did not look pleased by the actions that occured seconds ago. Even though he was about to fight with Michael on his own, he was pissed at what Castiel had done.

With a snap of Lucifer’s fingers Castiel was blown up and Bobby’s neck was twisted.

Time had frozen.

A piercing, roaring, inhuman scream erupted from Y/N’s throat weakening Lucifer just enough for Sam to take control and dive into the cage bringing Michael with him. She didn’t care about how this happened. Her whole world was gone in a matter of seconds.

He would always come back for her.

Castiel and Y/N have been together through the nice times life had to offer, and the bad ones. Purgatory, Lucifer, losses. Everything. And it all begun with a simple conversation. Simple conversation. I guess you can’t really presage your destiny after all.

“I love you so much” Castiel whispered as he held Y/N in his arms, in their shared bed on the bunker. She smiled and scooted as close to the angel as possible, taking in his intoxicating scent. His arms were wrapped tightly around her small frame. He occassionaly kissed her forehead or lips.

“I love you too, my angel” His blue eyes radiated the feeling of safety and trust. She found herself getting lost into them again.

“Rest now, my love”

#castiel #castiel imagine #castiel x you #castiel fanfiction #castiel fluff #castiel angst #castiel x y/n #cas #cas imagine #cas x reader #cas x you #cas fanfiction #cas fic #cas fluff #cas angst

42 notes · View notes

obscure-black-clouds · 8 years ago

Text

REQUEST: an imagine of ( here is the complicated part so strap in ? LMAO ) Credence liking the reader and wants to tell her/him if they would like to be in a relationship, however she/he is moving and declines BUT she asks him to go with her because she wants always wants him by her side ( sorry if it's all over the place, you may add any nsfw or more plots to it, I thought it seemed interesting )

WORD COUNT: 1724;

WARNINGS: none, just fluff and cuteness.

A/N: sorry for a huge delay. I passed all of my exams, so i will have more time to write. I have at least four more things to post, including next chapter of Compassion and an another request. Oh, and now you can all send your requests if you want to.

It’s often said, that changes are always for good. You, however, wasn’t so sure. Moving to Boston wasn’t bad, after all New York didn’t bring you anything to hold on to. Except, maybe, for Credence. You were friends since you could remember yourself. You held on to each other all the time, even after both of you were adopted to different families. You were the lucky one, the couple who took you in was childless, and they loved you dearly. You remembered them with all the kindness and love your heart had, but also with tears, because this city took them from you three months ago. Your stepmother died, and your stepfather followed, not being able to live without his beloved wife.

That was the main reason why you were leaving, you just couldn’t stay here. You were literally torn apart. On one hand you wanted to leave as quickly as possible, but on the other… On the other there was Credence. A closest and sweetest person in the whole world, which used to be so cold to you. Thinking about him made your heart sank. You haven’t seen him for couple of days now, not after that conversation.

Credence was sitting at the table in the small kitchen, carefully watching you making tea. He was always welcomed in your home, by both you and your now deceased parents. They even tried to take him away from Mary Lou, when they discovered that she was beating him up, but he declined. Sometimes Credence thought it was his biggest mistake.

However, he liked to come over sometimes, just to see you, to feel safe and at home. You were the only person who knew everything about him, almost everything. It wasn’t strange to see both of you in the street heading flyers as fast as you could, just to be free for the rest of the day. For the most occasions, you would just hide in your room, talking about everything and nothing, laughing and enjoying yourselves.

You were best friends.

However, Credence wasn’t sure what he felt for you. He wondered if it was okay to enjoy the sound of your voice, the look of your smile, to crave for your touch. Ma always said it was a sin, but how the sin could feel so… good? Not in a sense of pleasure, but the simple sight of you just made his heart warm and the weight of the world on his shoulders a slightest bit lighter.

With you, he felt safe. Sometimes he even felt strong and brave, he felt wanted and needed. Credence felt a slight pinch of guilt, when he realized that he enjoyed the feeling of you, pressed to his chest, when your parents died. He run away from Mary Lou that night, just to be there for you. You opened the door, looking like mess because of constant crying, and just crushed yourself into his chest. The two of you just sat on the couch for whole night, just crying and mourning, cuddled together, as if you were the only living people in the world. You were terrified when you saw Credence’s hand after Mary Lou knew he wasn’t at home that night. And still, he was there for you all the time. You tried to be there for him as well.

Coming over to your small apartment became a habit, as well as sitting at the table while you was making tea. Credence tried to help you every time, but you always gently pushed him away, smiling gratefully. This morning was no different, except for both of you having what to say. You didn’t know how to say, that you had to leave New York, so you just focused on making tea. You could feel Credence’s gentle gaze on your back. You always knew when he was looking, even when he thought you weren’t. He would often caught himself staring and then rapidly lowering his gaze not to look like a creep. For him it was the perfect opportunity to look at you without being caught. Credence watched you every move knowing you too well something to be unpredictable to him. He was still worried for your health, you was thinner and paler than usual, weeks after the funeral didn’t just fade away. However, you looked fine, even smiled to him, so he kept his worries to himself.

“Why you look like that at me, Credence?” you innocently mocked, smiling when he blushed to you comment. You sat next to him, just as always, and handed him his cup.

“(Y/N)- I-I have something to tell you,” he whispered, staring at his cup.

“To be honest, I have something to tell you too,” you replied, sighing. You couldn’t keep it a secret anymore, he was your best friend after all. “But you go first,” you looked at him curiously, sipping your tea. Credence watched you for a second, and then, lowering his eyes again, started to talk.

“I-I don’t want to ruing anything,” he confessed, biting his lip.

“You won’t. Credence, you can tell me anything, you know that, right?” he nodded, still staring at his tea.

“I- I think I’m in love with you, (Y/N),” he blurted. You gazed at him in disbelief. “I-I just like being around, hugging you. You make me happy and I- I want to be with you.”

“Oh Credence,” your heart was racing while you placed your mug on the table with trembling hands. “I-I can’t-”

He jerked his head, staring into your eyes for a second and then nodded to his own thoughts.

“I understand,” he tremulously whispered, and placed the mug on the table, ready to stand up.

“I’m so sorry, Credence, I just can’t,” you whined, “I am moving.”

“W-What?”

“I can’t stay in New York, and my employer he- he found me a place in Boston-,” you were mumbling, not realizing your own emotions now. “I d-don’t really have a choice.”

“When?” Credence quietly asked, his words short, because he wasn’t sure if he could control his voice.

“In- In three days,” you breathed out, not daring to look at him.

Credence clenched his jaw and nodded, feeling his hope shattering to a million pieces.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but Ma will notice that I’m not there,” he managed not to sound very pathetic and quietly left, leaving you alone.

Last two days were incredibly hard. You could barely sleep, both being nervous because of moving, and feeling bad for Credence. You still didn’t know what exactly you felt for him. Everything he said, about being around, making each other happy, everything was true. Maybe that meant you loved him too?

It was you last day in New York. You were packing last things, getting ready for the train, Credence constantly on your mind. You hoped you would have some time to say goodbye, but he didn’t came and you weren’t sure if he wanted to see you at all. You still had plenty of time before departure, so you decided to find him in the streets anyway. Years of friendship can’t be erased that easily anyway. You were putting a scarf around your neck, when you heard a quiet knock on the door.

“Just a minute!” you shouted, adjusting your coat and quickly walking to the door.

The second it opened, you run out of air.

“I- I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Credence,” you gasped and literally crushed into him, just like when he came to you that night. He froze for a second, feeling your hands around his neck, your face hidden in his shoulder.

“(Y/N)?” he timidly asked, carefully placing his hand onto your waist. You just sobbed, and pulled him closer. The two of you were still standing in the doorway, so he moved slightly, almost dragging you back into the flat. “(Y/N), are you alright?”

“Y-yes,” you nodded, moving away and wiping away some sudden tears. “I just- I missed you so much, I was so scared that you didn’t want to see me again, I thought you hate me and- ”

“(Y/N),” he gently interrupted, watching you with wide eyes. “I would never be able to hate you.”

“I was so stupid and-”

“No, (Y/N),” he sighed and pulled you closer.

It took you couple of minutes to calm down, just standing there, nuzzling into his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Everything about that single moment felt so right.

“Come with me,” you whispered, not thinking twice.

“W-What?” he instantly asked, moving away to look into your eyes.

“Come with me,” you repeated, realizing that it was even easier to say that when you saw his eyes. “Come with me to Boston, stay by my side. I want you there, I need you there.”

“B-But-”

“Credence, please. What- What you said to me then, bout how you feel-”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to-” he started, thinking you were doing it out of pity.

“Let me finish, please,” you shook your head, taking a deep breath. “I feel the same, Credence. I truly do. Come with me.”

“You- You really mean that?” he asked, looking for a trick. You just nodded, staring at him with all the confidence you had. He gazed at you for a second more, before raggedly exhaled. His lips trembled, not being able to contain the smile. Credence raised his hand, touching your cheek. His fingers were shaking, but you could easily see him smiling.

“Credence?” you carefully asked, watching his face soften. You’ve never seen him so relaxed and innocent, even in his sleep.

“(Y/N), may I- may I kiss you?” he suddenly asked, blushing furiously, you softly chuckled and nodded, blushing as well.

He slowly leaned forward, as if giving you an opportunity to move away. You, of course, didn’t. His lips brushed against yours, almost unnoticeably for the first time, as if he wanted to check that everything was real. You could feel his heart racing in his chest, when he moved closer, suddenly feeling unbelievably confident, pressing his lips a little bit harder. You smiled, answering the kiss, your hands sliding to the back of his neck.

“Come with me,” you mumbled into the kiss, and Credence just nodded, pulling you closer. If Ma said that was a sin… Well, it was worth it.

#credence barebone #credence barebone imagine #credence barebone x reader #credence x reader #credence deserved better #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft

65 notes · View notes

ecotone99 · 6 years ago

Text

[MS] Looking for the mystery witness

To start this off: This isn't a true story and the town is fictitious.

I'm Detective Brad Markus and I'm a detective for the Florida Springs Police Department. We are a small Panhandle town in Florida, of course. It's called the forgotten coast of Florida. We like some tourism but not a lot.

Florida Springs has a nice state Park which is Florida Springs State Park which for much of the year is deserted or at least it was back in 1981, especially in December. This was about 17 days before Christmas. I had the day off, so me and my wife Sandy decided to have a picnic lunch. The day wasn't cool it was around 75 degrees. We ate our lunch sitting on a large beach towel which had large starfishes on them. We watched the waves which were very light. The waves in the gulf are very light compared to the Atlantic.

From a distance, I could see Old Man Wilson (this is what he liked to be called) sitting on his beach chair. Usually he would wave to me when I did patrols in the area or came to the beach and today was no exception. He would sit out there all day and sometimes into the evening. He would only leave and walk the short distance to his home when told to leave.

His home was the only one on the beach (once he died the house would be torn down). Old Man Wilson was 80 years old and in good health, so I don't see that happening any time soon. He will live there until the day he dies. Beautiful home.

Me and Sandy stayed till the sun went down. It was starting to get cold and the wind was blowing. It looks like a storm would be coming in and right as we got home, the storm hit. It rained for several hours. By midnight the storm was over and you could see the full moon.

The next morning, the ranger called us and said that he had found a man in the surf face down with a bite mark on his neck. He had a bite on his torso. A capsized boat was seen drifting in the water nearby. This was about a mile from Old Man Wilson's beach house and technically in the jurisdiction of Florida Springs. It was decided that Florida Springs would take over the investigation.

I went to Old Man Wilson's home. His hearing isn't that great and he usually doesn't wear his hearing aids. He wasn't of any help.

The medical examiner called me and said that the man who was identified as 23 year old Mark Marsh was attacked by a shark, most likely from falling out of the boat. He also had been drinking and had been smoking weed. This guy had no family and no one claimed him which was very sad. Old Man Wilson felt sorry for him had paid to have a funeral and a resting place for the man.

February 1982

This you would think would be the end of the story until I got a letter about two months later from someone who claimed that the death wasn't accidental. The letter told what happened but from the evidence that we have, we could neither prove not disprove. The anonymous writer said that they knew the identity of the killers but couldn't come forward.. What was odd is that the letter was sent to me from a post office in Austin Texas. Was this for real or was it a joke.

I know that it wasn't Old Man Wilson who sent the letter because he doesn't have a typewriter and he's deceased. He died a couple of days into the new year. It's been two months since I've received the letter, but I haven't told anyone yet. I mentioned to our local press three months later that we needed additional information regarding the death of Mark Marsh and for someone to please call us. No one did and the case went cold. For some reason I kept this paperwork and took it with me when I retired. Not really supposed to do this but I did.

June 2019 - nearly 40 years after Mark Marsh was found on the beach, I get a call from Debbie Wilson Youngman who is the granddaughter of Old Man Wilson. She has breast cancer and doesn't know how much longer she has to live. She has information about Mr. Marsh. She lives in Pensacola and is in a hospice center there.

Let me give you some information about me. I became Chief of Police in 1987 and retired in 2013. This was after 40 years of law enforcement service. I started out at age 18 in 1973 at a officer for the city and by 1978 I was detective. A lot has changed in Florida Springs. In 1973 it was about 1,500 people and by 2019 it's about 6,000 people. More hotels and condos. They put the condos across the street from the beach. Some of it, I don't like. Sadly shortly after Old Man Wilson died, someone kids vandalized the place and then one of them who was smoking threw the cigarette butt on the floor and the house was destroyed by fire.

So, I'm on my way to see Debbie Youngman. Will be interesting to see what she has to say.

December 1981

Old Man Wilson was surprised to see his granddaughter Debbie Wilson arrived a day early. He had just came back from the beach. Debbie brought some food and made dinner. Debbie was tired. She had flew in from Pensacola and had taken the taxi to the beach house which was 40 miles. They decided to turn it early.

The storms on the beach sometimes unnerved Debbie but Old Man Wilson it didn't bother. By midnight it was gone and a full moon was out. Debra couldn't sleep and went out for a walk. It was 3:00 am. She loved doing this as everything was so quiet. As she came closer to the house, she noticed a group of men hanging around. She hid herself where she could see them but they couldn't see her.

"He doesn't know that we are here. " said one man.

"Hey, let's go in and rob the place." said another man.

Dogs could be heard in the house barking up a storm.

"Don't think so. The Old man has nothing to rob. Leave the man alone. Come on let's get out of here."said a third man.

Two of the men Debbie didn't recognize but the third one she did. She watched as they left her grandfather's house and walked down the beach. She went along a trail where she wouldn't be seen. She was careful not to make any noise.

She saw a man with a boat that was waiting for them. She saw them overpower the man, tied him up and put him in a boat that sped away. She was afraid to go back to the house. In the distance, she could hear screams and then nothing. A short time later, she then saw the men make the boat capsize and then placed the man next to it. They then left by boat. She ran back to the house. Her grandfather was asleep and never knew she had left.

"I know I should have called the police, but I was in shock and was too scared. Ranger Burns found the body a couple of hours later. He came to my grandfather's place and I hid.. My grandfather his memory was very bad forgot that I was there. He didn't of course see anything. I was nervous the whole time I was there.

Debbie took a sip of water and then continued.

"The next day two of the men that I didn't know. came around. I was at the house when I saw them approached grandpa and asked him about Mark Marsh. They didn't see me as I was in the house. I watched very nervously. Ranger Burns walked up to them and asked if they had seen anything. They hadn't of course but I knew they were lying. They quickly left. I never saw them again, although from time to time Mickie Larange would show up in the panhandle but not here. His grandparents have a beach house in community of St. Joe 40 miles away from Florida Springs. He came during the summer. Both his parents and grandparents thought he was a special person who could do no wrong.

I knew who Mickie Larange was. Bad news and a bad person. He was a rock star that was adored nationwide and worldwide. If they only knew, but they didn't and even if they did, well........

"He had people who covered for him big time from the time he was a child till today. He got away with a lot of things, because they weren't violent in nature. Stole things from stores. Wrote bad checks. Tried to get away with not paying restaurant and motel bills. Took a car for a joy ride when he was a teen and got into an accident, totaling the car. Daddy paid the man whose car he wrecked. Broke young girls's and women's hearts. Doesn't pay child support unless he's force to You get the picture. I knew who he was and what he looked like and his reputation but never had any interaction with him, thankfully. "

I nodded. I never had to deal with Mickie Larange as he didn't come around Florida Springs and the State Park but I'd heard about him from other law enforcement agencies that came in contact with him. He was never arrested until two years ago when police arrested him in California for failing to pay child support. My wife remembers how angry he was and how he treated two of his ex-wives. He called one of them a liar and something else I can't repeat and then he spit in the face of the other ex-wife. When his own children said he was a jerk, he said that they were spoiled brats. My wife likes to watch all that on TMZ. Not me, have no interest in it."

"I was the one who wrote the letter back in 1982. I had to tell someone. I never told anyone about this."

We talked a little bit more and then I left. Sadly there isn't much I can do. A couple of weeks later I get a call from one of the men who was there, former body guard. Like Debbie, he's very ill and doesn't have long to live. The third man died 20 years earlier in Prison. He was another body guard.

Two months later Mickie Larange is arrested in California and he denies everything. Later he is put on trial in Pensacola Florida. He tries to blame the other two men saying that they threatened to kill him if he didn't go along with them. It was clearly proven that he was the mastermind behind the crime. The reason was because Mark Marsh was going to write a book about him, detailing what he had done. He couldn't have that and he took action. The jury convicted him. Even though he's in jail he still gets letters, gifts and money from adoring fans.

A sad footnote to this story. Shortly after Mickie Larange was convicted, Debbie Youngman passed away and so did the bodyguard.

submitted by /u/baronesslucy [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2XsxAAw

#Blogger #Story

0 notes

spiderfan22 · 8 years ago

Text

DAY TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SEVEN - 4/18/17

“UNTITLED FUNERAL PLAY (THRU PAGE 20)” by DJS

The work continues. I am starting to realize there is a jump that I reach while writing where the initial inspiration runs out, or is running low, and that’s usually where I want to give up on a project. But I’m not letting myself. The most important thing at this stage in the game - way more important than quality - is forward momentum. And finishing the damn thing. So there.

The scene is the interior of six cars, part of a funeral procession.

The action should be staged as simply and unadorned as possible— perhaps stealing a page from the theatre of Thornton Wilder, eg chairs or benches for car seats, mimed driving, etc. Minimal props and lighting; once the lights come up, they stay up. The company is onstage for the duration of the show.

This includes the sound operator and stage manager (preferably the same person), along with their equipment. They should have a small station in full view of the audience.

There is an inherent challenge in this approach in that actors— even when they’re not the primary focus of a scene— must remain “on” at all times, filling every moment with real life, even if that just means breathing.

The actors are all dressed in black funeral attire.

Characters (by car – *indicates the driver)

#1- Margaret (50s, funeral director) / Glenn* (her step-son, funeral attendant)

#2- Jim (70s, the widower) / Eric* (his elder son) / Mindy (Eric’s wife)

#3- Beth* (Jim’s daughter) / Doug (Beth’s husband) / Kenzie (their 16 year old daughter) / Ry (Eric and Mindy’s 19 year old son)

#4- Andy* (Jim’s younger son) / Kelly (Andy’s wife) / Carter (their 15 year old son) / Clay (their 12 year old son)

#5- Wade* (Jim’s younger brother) / Ellen (Wade’s wife) / John (Jim’s older brother) / Bailey (John’s young wife)

#6- Nita (the deceased’s sister) / Pammy* (Nita’s daughter)

Organ music. Church bells toll. The funeral service has just let out. The company enter to their respective cars.

Margaret waits in the passenger seat of #1, consulting a clipboard. After a few moments, Glenn hustles over and gets behind the wheel.

MARGARET We all set back there?

GLENN Almost, yeah.

MARGARET People got their flags?

GLENN Yep, all the cars got at least one, with the last vehicle making sure to have two.

MARGARET What about our escort?

GLENN Ready to go. They sent us Officer Daniels again which is nice since he knows the route. The other guy I’m less familiar with, I think he might be new.

MARGARET Just as long as Daniels takes the lead.

He is taking the lead, correct?

GLENN Oh yeah. I mean yes.

MARGARET And you reminded everyone about their hazards – to make sure they’re on?

GLENN I did.

MARGARET What about headlights?

Slight beat

GLENN Oh. Shoot.

MARGARET You didn’t remind them to turn on their headlights?

GLENN Well I thought because it’s the middle of the day on a perfectly sunny day –

MARGARET Doesn’t matter. It’s a law, Glenn.

GLENN Yes.

MARGARET You better run and tell everyone now before Officer Daniels realizes and we end up wasting even more time.

GLENN Yes, I –

OK.

MARGARET The last thing we need is a lecture that we don’t know how to conduct our business. Or a bad Yelp review.

GLENN Right.

MARGARET So make it fast.

Glenn nods. Over the next bit, he will go from car to car telling the rest of the drivers to turn on their headlights.

Pammy struggles to load Nita’s collapsible walker into the backseat of #6.

NITA Pammy…

PAMMY What is it, Mom?

NITA I think… I think I left it. I think I forgot it.

PAMMY Forgot what?

NITA My purse. Is it in the backseat with you? Did you grab it?

PAMMY No I didn’t grab your purse. It’s your purse. You think you left it inside, in the church?

NITA Well that’s the only place that makes sense. I mean I had it earlier.

PAMMY Well they’re about to – I mean we’re about to get going here –

NITA Pammy I can’t leave my purse, it’s got all my prescriptions, I’m gonna need to take ‘em at lunch –

PAMMY Mom –

NITA And we’re one of the last cars. If you hurry –

I need my pills Pammy, now you know that. Maybe you can explain it to the guy, the one who’s organizing everything, I just saw him get out of his – the hearse up there. Maybe there’s a holdup for some reason and you actually have time.

PAMMY Fine.

NITA Ohh thank you, Pammy, thank you.

PAMMY Don’t thank me. I mean you gotta have your pills, right?

Pammy starts to exit

NITA You know, he’s cute.

PAMMY What?

NITA The guy. The one they got driving – the attendant, whatever he’s called.

PAMMY You mean the guy that works for the funeral home?

NITA Yeah, did you see him?

Slight beat

PAMMY He’s an undertaker.

NITA You don’t know that, you don’t know if he actually works on the bodies. Maybe he just helps with the flower arrangements, and the guest book and stuff.

PAMMY Mom I’m gay.

NITA You had a girlfriend for a couple years after college, that’s not the same thing.

A pause. Then Pammy shuts the door on her mother and exits.

In #2

JIM You didn’t have to sit back there, Mindy.

MINDY Oh it’s fine, Jim, don’t worry about it.

JIM You got enough leg room? I can move my seat forward –

ERIC She’s fine, Dad.

JIM Wait a minute – where’s what’s his name? Ryan.

ERIC He’s riding with Beth and Doug.

JIM How come?

ERIC Well, so you’d have some more privacy.

JIM Oh, because I’m gonna start crying? Don’t want the kid to see me balling my eyes out?

ERIC It’s not like that Dad –

JIM You’re trying to manage me.

ERIC Dad that’s not –

JIM Everyone today has got their kid gloves on with me and I wish they would just stop. Like your brother –

MINDY No one is trying to manage you, Jim –

JIM Your brother: did you see what he did? Did you see the shit he tried to pull – as we were going up the stairs he takes my arm. Just grabs me by the elbow. Like I can’t walk up four steps, like I’m gonna fall.

ERIC Yeah.

JIM My wife died, I didn’t lose all sense of gravity.

MINDY Everyone’s just trying to help, Jim. People want to be there for you.

JIM I just don’t need my fucking hand held, that’s all.

Beat

So are we getting this show on the road or what?

In #5, the women are in the backseat.

ELLEN Wasn’t it just a lovely service? Somber without being too morose, you know? Didn’t you think, Wade?

WADE Best one we been to this month.

ELLEN Oh please don’t joke like that.

BAILEY Do you guys really go to a lot of a funerals?

ELLEN Well we do have our share, I’m sad to say. As times goes by, more and more –

BAILEY Hey John.

JOHN Yeah what is it, cutie?

BAILEY How come you don’t go to more funerals?

JOHN I dunno. They probably forget I’m still alive so don’t invite me.

WADE You are getting up there, kid.

ELLEN Speaking of which, how’s your heart been John? Are you still taking the Plavix was it?

John nods.

ELLEN Yeah? What do you they have you on for your blood pressure then – anything? Wade’s still doing the Enduron twice a day. It’s only a diuretic because they say it’s only so elevated his blood pressure, not in the real danger area yet.

WADE Except it’s got me pissing like a damn racehorse. I’m talking I’m up three-four times a night –

JOHN Bailey knows. She keeps track of all that stuff for me now.

WADE Girl’s a godsend. I’m telling you John, you’re lucky to have her.

JOHN Think I don’t know that?

Bailey digs in her large bag, taking out several prescription pill bottles and reading the labels

BAILEY Let’s see, what do we got. Metformin, Celebrex, Levitra…

JOHN Walking around with a pharmacy in her purse all because of my old ass.

ELLEN Oh now don’t say that John, I’m sure she doesn’t mind too much.

JOHN God I hope not. I’d be lost without her. No worse – dead. Dead and buried if it wasn’t for my little sugar cookie here.

(To Bailey) Isn’t that right?

He reaches back and pats Bailey’s thigh. She takes his hand and squeezes it while still scanning pill bottles.

WADE Keeps you young.

JOHN That’s the idea.

BAILEY (proudly) Here we go: Inderal. “To relieve hypertension.”

Pammy enters with Nita’s purse, crossing paths with Glenn on the way back to her car.

PAMMY Oh. Is something wrong?

GLENN No I just forgot to tell everyone to turn on their regular lights too— uhh, headlights.

PAMMY Oh. OK thanks.

GLENN Safety precaution. It’s actually the law.

PAMMY I will then, thank you.

He goes. She gets back in her car, shoving the purse at Nita, who smiles.

NITA What was that?

PAMMY Nothing. Shut up.

In #3, Kenzie is crying. Doug coughs into a tissue.

BETH I really don’t know what the holdup is. We should be getting going any minute now, least that’s what the guy said.

Slight pause

Hey, you did good today, Ry.

RY What do you mean? Oh the speech?

BETH The eulogy, yes, thank you, you didn’t have to. It was very sweet. I think your grandma would have liked it.

RY It was weird. I was surprised when Dad asked me.

BETH My idea. I know you fancy yourself a writer, so… Plus you did that speech and debate stuff in high school. It was very eloquent – you were, that is.

(To Doug) Don’t you think, honey?

DOUG Yeah and you kept it short which was nice.

He blows his nose as Beth shoots him an irritated glance.

KENZIE Was it your idea to include the Berenstain Bears stuff?

RY What? Oh, yeah.

KENZIE Because Grandma would always read them to us, right?

RY Yeah.

KENZIE She had the whole collection.

RY A bunch, yeah.

KENZIE I liked that, that you quoted that.

RY Oh good. Thanks –

KENZIE I’m missing a big softball tournament for this but I don’t care.

RY Sorry.

KENZIE Who do you think is going to get those books?

RY What?

KENZIE If anything they should get split up between us grandkids.

RY Sure –

KENZIE But maybe not Carter and Clay because they didn’t really – they weren’t really a part of that, you know? I mean whenever they went over to Grandma and Grandpa’s they just wanted to play their DS’s or watch stupid shows on Cartoon Network, and even when Grandma would offer – so the books mean way more to us than them.

There is the blurt of a police siren; a signal that the procession is about to begin.

RY Yeah –

KENZIE So we’re on the same page?

RY I – I guess.

KENZIE Mom?

BETH Yes what sweetie? I think we’re about to get started here.

KENZIE Mom, have you even been listening to our conversation?

BETH I think so. You were talking about some books –

KENZIE Grandma’s collection of Berenstain Bear books. Ry and I think they should go to us.

BETH OK –

KENZIE So if it comes up, or if there’s a problem with Carter and Clay for some reason where they say they want them, you won’t let it happen?

BETH I don’t know sweetie. That’s not really where my head’s at today.

KENZIE You don’t think it’s important?

BETH Well there’s a lot happening...

KENZIE Dad.

DOUG (who’s dozed off) Hm? What?

KENZIE Grandma’s collection of Berenstain bear books – you remember?

DOUG Uh. Kind of. Why?

KENZIE Ryan and I want them.

DOUG OK. I’m sure you can, I’m sure that won’t be a – I mean your grandfather’s not gonna care –

BETH Can we just please everyone discuss this at another time please? That’s my mom in the back of the hearse up there and I’m getting ready to put her in the ground, so if it’s all the same…

Silence.

The procession begins. Beth puts the car in drive.

In #4

CLAY Hey Mom can you plug my phone in?

KELLY How much power does it have left? Because I have to charge mine.

CLAY 13 percent.

KELLY Let me charge mine a little then I’ll do yours.

CLAY But what if it dies while we’re out at the cemetery?

ANDY You don’t need to have your phone out at the cemetery – you won’t. And we’re already over our data for the month anyway.

CARTER No wonder nothing was loading on Youtube.

CLAY How long till we get to the cemetery?

KELLY (whilst texting, to Andy) Half an hour, right?

ANDY Closer to 45 minutes.

KELLY I remember when you were little and we’d be on long car trips, we’d always give the time to you based on Power Rangers episodes. So if it was two hours away wherever our destination was, it’d be (Sing-song) “Just four Power Rangers left till we get there! Hold on!”

Beat. Carter hits the button to lower his window a few inches.

ANDY Hey, put that back up.

CARTER Why? It’s hot.

ANDY Because it doesn’t look good. This is a funeral procession, it’s serious. Nobody wants to see one of the car’s windows rolled down.

CARTER Who’s nobody?

ANDY Nobody on the street watching.

CARTER But I’m hot.

ANDY Wait for the AC.

He hits the button, raising Carter’s window. Slight pause. Then Carter lowers the window again.

CARTER The air conditioning’s busted, it hasn’t worked since last summer –

Andy raises the window.

ANDY What is your problem listening right now??

CARTER Because I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this!

KELLY (overlapping them) I think we’re all just a little oversensitive right now not to mention tired because we had to get up so early to drive over this morning, hmmm? so let’s try to keep that in mind and have just a bit more patience with other OK? – Andy? Carter? – I think we’re also probably hungry but that will have to wait obviously, though I might have a granola bar in my bag now that I’m thinking of it.

Carter grunts then goes silent. After a beat.

CLAY Mom can I charge my phone now?

Margaret looks up from her clipboard to the road.

MARGARET You’re not keeping up.

GLENN Huh?

MARGARET The police officer, don’t you see, he’s signaling you to go faster.

GLENN Oh shit. OK.

He speeds up.

MARGARET But keep it under 35. Least till we’re on the highway.

GLENN Gotcha.

MARGARET And don’t swear, Glenn.

She motions vaguely towards the rear of the hearse, meaning the casket.

GLENN Right. Yeah. Sorry.

Can I tell you? It’s still weird for me to drive through a red light.

ERIC (to Jim) Weird to drive straight through a red light, isn’t it?

GLENN Feel like I’m breaking the law.

MARGARET What the escort’s for.

MINDY All I know is I wish I had this on my morning commute every day.

JIM How long’s it take you to get to work?

MINDY An hour. 45 minutes on a good day.

JIM Jesus Christ – how do you people live over there on the west side of the state takes you forever to get anywhere?

ERIC Well, they’re putting in lightrail now so that should help alleviate some –

JIM Is that like a monorail thing?

ERIC A train. It goes both above and below ground.

JIM Yeah? And how much is that costing the taxpayer?

ERIC Well it was voted on, Dad. The county voted for it so – And traffic’s a real problem as Mindy was saying –

JIM You see, that’s why I could never live in a big city. Just too much, too crazy.

ERIC Well we like it.

JIM That’s good for you. I wouldn’t.

Another police siren blurt, like a warning. Kenzie watches out the window.

KENZIE Everybody’s staring at us. People on the sidewalk.

BETH Well, yeah.

KENZIE It’s weird. I don’t like it.

BETH Why don’t you close your eyes for a little while then sweetie, rest, you must be tired.

Pause

KENZIE I can’t. I’m worried about how the game’s going.

(To Ry) I had a big softball tournament this weekend that I had to miss.

RY You told me.

KENZIE Oh.

What do you think, Dad, do you think we’re up?

DOUG Depends. I forget, who did they have you guys pitted against in the first round?

KENZIE Kelso.

DOUG Oh you girls should walk away with it then; their offense just hasn’t been able to get it going so far this year.

KENZIE Who do you think started?

DOUG Sarah I’d imagine. I mean since you weren’t there, Coach probably had to go with Sarah –

KENZIE But that’s not really fair then. She shouldn’t get the win just because Kelso can’t hit and make her look good. Coach will get the wrong impression.

DOUG (to Ry) You might have missed it, Ry, but our Kenzie is in something of a competition with this Sarah girl.

KENZIE No I’m not. She sucks. I am so much better of a pitcher than her –

BETH Stop that, Kenzie. I will not have you talking negative about one of your own teammates.

KENZIE But she talks shit about me all the time! She told everyone I was in love with Derek Page when all I said is I didn’t care if he asked me to Homecoming or not!

BETH Well if she did that then she’s rude –

KENZIE She did do that. You don’t believe me??

BETH Of course we believe you. But you still don’t get to attack a person just because you both play the same position in a sport.

DOUG Plus if you think about it… (Starts to go into a coughing fit but wants to make his point.) If you think about it Mac, Coach needs all the solid starters he can get going into playoffs. I mean it’s not like… not like she’s taking your glove away from you. Sorry.

He is coughing so hard he barely gets this last line out. Kenzie is on the verge of tears again.

Bailey is texting on her phone. Ellen watches her.

ELLEN (to Bailey) So, do you two have to rush off back home or can we get you stay a few more days with us? It’s always nice to have John for a visit.

JOHN No we gotta get back. Bailey has a meeting on Monday.

ELLEN (to Bailey) Oh I didn’t know you were working, dear.

BAILEY I’m not. John’s just trying to be nice and sugarcoat. It’s an N.A. thing. You know, Narcotics Anonymous?

Slight beat

ELLEN Ohhh…

All right.

BAILEY Sorry, did I just freak you out?

ELLEN No. No, not at all –

BAILEY Because you look freaked out.

ELLEN No it’s just… surprising, dear, that’s all. I mean I never would have guessed it. You seem so together.

BAILEY Well I am, now.

ELLEN Right. Right.

And how does John feel about all this?

JOHN If you want to know, ask him.

ELLEN Sorry, John.

John sniffs in a matter-of-fact way.

JOHN She had problem – now she doesn’t anymore. End of story.

(To Bailey) Right, cupcake?

Bailey smiles at him sweetly, then goes back to her phone.

WADE Ellie come on, it’s not your business.

ELLEN No I’m, I’m just asking questions. I mean it’s good news, right?

(To Bailey) In fact we’re just so glad you made it out the other side, dear. I’ve heard how those things can be, they can be truly awful, a real nightmare scenario, and you know some people never make it out. There was a story just the other night we saw on the news – do you remember, Wade? – where they busted, this special task force they took down this whole drug distribution ring – well you know how the gangs are around here, how bad it’s gotten – but they had video of just these kids they looked so young, younger than you even, like our grandkids age – who you look at them and it just breaks your heart because you know they were probably a good kid once upon a time – and now they’ve got into this drug stuff and they’re going to jail and their lives are just ruined. Well it’s inexplicable to me. You just thank your stars you were one of the lucky ones, dear, because I’ve seen some of the statistics. It’s a real epidemic around here now.

Slight pause

So how long have you been sober? Do they call it that, “sober”, when it’s drugs or do they call it something else? “Clean” right?

BAILEY (overlapping) Sober’s fine – clean, yeah. Five months.

ELLEN Just five months. Huh.

She does the math in her head

So – sorry – at the family reunion last year you were, you…

WADE Oh would you give it a rest, Ellie. Stop brow-beating the poor girl.

ELLEN I’m not. Besides she said she was fine discussing it.

(To Bailey) Didn’t you?

BAILEY No, umm actually. But yeah, I don’t mind. It’s like in the program they really stress the importance of honesty, you know, so I try to, like, live that philosophy in my every day.

ELLEN I could see where that’d be a rule, yes.

Can I ask you what it was then? I mean was there one particular thing you gravitated towards or…?

WADE (Oh for Pete’s sake…)

BAILEY What was my poison?

Ellen points to her nose like in Charades, then points to Bailey for her to continue.

Pills. Different painkillers mostly. Not that I haven’t done my fair share of other substances but I was never addicted to any of them. But with Oxycodone, Vicodin stuff like that I could just go and go, and it’s always more and more because you can’t stay at for instance six a day, because after awhile six stops doing anything, you don’t feel it anymore, so you increase to ten, then twelve, fourteen, on and just – God, I don’t even want to tell you how many I was up to when I was at my peak, you know my worst?

ELLEN Oh my.

BAILEY And it’s funny you mention the family reunion thing because I would guess you had no idea something was going on. Nothing up with Bailey, right?

ELLEN Mm.

BAILEY But that’s how it is. You get to a point where it’s all just maintaining. You don’t even get high anymore – or not as high, you still get a little. But really it’s just so you can get out of bed in the morning, eat food, go to the store, without feeling like shit – because otherwise you stop taking the pills you instantly start going into withdrawals. That’s why it pisses addicts off so much when people say, Well just stop doing it. “No I’m sorry, I don’t want to die.”

Ellen stares at her for a moment. Then she pats Bailey’s hand.

ELLEN Well you’ve certainly been through the ringer, haven’t you dear? Hasn’t she, Wade?

WADE Sounds like it.

ELLEN And we’re just so happy you’re all better now, even though we’re finding out about it after the fact.

Nita is struggling to open a bottle of water.

NITA Pammy, do me a favor. I can’t get this.

PAMMY What?

NITA This water. There’s a little ring like a tab you have to pull and with my arthritis I can’t…

PAMMY Um yeah. OK uhhh. Take the wheel for a second then?

NITA You can’t just do it, I have to drive for you?

PAMMY Well I’m gonna need both hands, Mom.

NITA Oh jeez. Alright. But you know what my confidence is like behind the wheel. Your dad always did the driving for us, I mean if we were going anywhere far, not to the post office like, but –

PAMMY Just keep us going straight and you’ll be fine. It’s not that big of deal.

Nita takes the steering wheel apprehensively with one hand while Pammy opens the bottle of water. The job is trickier and takes longer than she thought but she eventually cracks it.

At which point the car swerves to the right.

Nita shrieks. Pammy quickly grabs hold of the wheel again, spilling water down the front of her dress.

Other characters see this happen in their mirrors and react:

WADE Whoa! Did you see that??

ANDY Nearly drove into the ditch.

BETH Who is that? Is that Pammy back there?

KELLY Wait, what happened??

The whole thing is over very fast. After regaining control of the vehicle, Pammy turns on her mother.

PAMMY Are you fucking kidding me?? Mom you just almost ran us off the road! My dress…

NITA (overlapping) Oh God! Oh God I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Pammy; don’t swear, I just… my hand slipped for a second and –

PAMMY Soaked, completely.

NITA Not to worry, we’ll get you fixed up in no time. Here, I think there are some napkins leftover in the glovebox from when we stopped at Crispy Cream that time. I remember I was smart I saved them.

She uses napkins to pat down Pammy’s dress. After a few seconds of this, Pammy snaps at her.

PAMMY OK would you stop?? Seriously, leave it, please. I’m good, I’ll air-dry, whatever. Just – take your damn water back.

There’s a pause.

NITA Do you want me to turn on the heater? That might get you dry faster –

She is reaching for the dial.

PAMMY No, then it’ll just be hot.

And it’s hot enough already.

Nita takes a long drink of water, casual again.

NITA Oh I know. Can you believe it’s almost June? Another couple weeks.

PAMMY (sighs) Yeah.

Andy is still glancing at his driver’s side mirror in concern.

KELLY So wait, what happened again?

ANDY Nothing. Looks like Pammy just lost control of the car for a second.

KELLY Well, why’d she do that? Are they alright?

ANDY How should I know? You can ask her when we get there.

Checks mirror again

Looks like they’re fine now.

KELLY God I hope so.

CARTER Yeah it’d be nice to make it to the cemetery with only one dead body.

Silence. The only one who didn’t catch that was Clay, preoccupied with a game on his phone.

That was a joke.

KELLY A not funny one.

CARTER I know, I’m sorry.

KELLY What made you say that?

CARTER I just thought of it.

KELLY Well you should apologize to your father.

CARTER I did, I said I was sorry.

KELLY This is hard on all of us but him especially.

CARTER I know.

CLAY Hold on, what did Carter do?

KELLY He needs our support right now. And Grandpa. And your Aunt Beth and your Uncle Eric.

ANDY Oh like he even cares.

KELLY What? Your brother?

ANDY No.

Motions to Carter in the backseat

Him. His attitude has sucked all day. First he refused to get out of bed this morning –

CARTER Because I was tired –

ANDY Making us late, putting us behind –

CARTER Mom I told you I couldn’t get to sleep, I’ve been having problems –

ANDY Always an excuse. Then when we stopped for breakfast nothing on the menu looks good to him, he’s Mister Choosy all of a sudden –

KELLY Andy, I don’t think you’re being entirely – you’re not seeing things from Carter’s –

ANDY Then just to double down on everything I guess he starts an argument with me over a window!

CARTER You know you can talk to me Dad, I’m right here.

ANDY So I say let him. Let him if he wants to be a little shit. This can be a lesson. He can learn all about regret, and having regrets, and looking back on how he acted today of all days and realizing he can’t do anything about it, to change that. He only cared about himself.

And I wish Carter, I wish you could feel that sting now, that you didn’t have to wait ohhh ten twenty thirty years for it to dawn on you, to come around, to bite you in the ass. I just hope I live to see it.

CARTER That’s not what I’m doing.

ANDY Keep telling yourself that. See how far it gets you.

Beat. Then Carter punches the back of Andy’s seat. Andy flinches but makes no other reaction.

KELLY Carter!!

CLAY Aagh!!

To be continued...

#UNTITLED FUNERAL PLAY #new play #get 'er done #father son conflict

0 notes