#Serious answer: I want a farm in the middle of nowhere and a dog

[oroniusn]

“But!! If you don’t want to get married and have kids what else is there to do!!! That’s the only option!! You don’t want to die sad and alone do you?!?!?!!!” (Something I was actually told today)

Idk man, world domination? That’s an option /j

[ieatsmallorphansnamedtom]

So i have this idea:

If the roles ended up switching up and the ones to give the bouquet/mermaid pendant were the bachelor(ette)s instead of the farmer, how exactly would they do it, and how would it go? 🤔🤔

Bachelor/ettes Giving the Mermaid Pendant

I'll do the general bouquet giving in a different headcanon.

Bachelors:

Sam

He's really giddied over the whole situation. He takes you to a private spot by the lake near Marnie's. You guys have a little picnic under the stars before he pops the question. If you say yes, he gives you the biggest smile and an even bigger hug. If you say no, he quietly packs up the picnic and goes home.

Elliott

Basically, his ten-heart event. He takes you out over a coral reef and you guys spend some time making pretty dried coral jewelry or taking about his latest book before he pulls the pendant out of his pocket and asks you. He tries to get down on one knee, but the boat is so rocky he nearly tips you guys over. If you say yes, he gives you a cheesy romantic kiss on both cheeks. If you say no, he acts not that bothered, takes you to shore, and cries about it.

Sebastian

He's way too nervous to do some big thing like Elliott does. Much more likely is you guys will be chilling in his room, playing games and eating snacks, when all of a sudden, he goes really quiet. You ask him what's up, and he pulls out the pendant. If you say yes, he kind of smiles to himself and goes even quieter (if you're sitting next to each other he might lean into you a bit). If you say no, he goes (somehow) even quieter and sinks into the couch a bit.

Harvey

He'll take you out of town to a nice restaurant. It's a real classic time. You guys dance a bit and have a really expensive dinner. Despite his limbs disintegrating from age (/j), he still manages to get down on one knee. If you say yes, he takes you for another dance (he totally requested a song to play when he gives the person a nod). If you say no, he becomes a lot more like his serious doctor side and says it's time for you guys to go home.

Shane

Like Sebastian, he sort of just gives it to you out of nowhere. However, unlike Sebastian, he's secretly been carrying it around for months waiting for the perfect opportunity. It probably happens while you guys are making jokes in Marnie's chicken coop. You turn around to move Charlie and turn back to see him holding it out in front of you. If you say yes, he gives you a big smooch. If you say no, he gets all defensive and goes to his room.

Alex

Pretty much the same as Sebastian. You guys are chilling somewhere when out of the blue there's this thing sitting in your lap. If he really wanted to, he'd take you to the saloon (aka his ten-heart event), but I have a feeling he'd be too scared of getting his heart broken. If you say yes, he'll spin you around in a hug. If you say no, he gets all teary-eyed and calls it a night.

Bachelorettes:

Penny

You guys have taken a trip out of town to a flower farm. You're, of course, in the middle of a bunch of roses when she shyly asks if she can share something with you. You agree, and she takes out the mermaid pendant. If you say yes, she sort of just stands there all smiley and doing the classic shy girl pose. If you say no, she uses the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom and breaks down in tears.

Leah

I don't know why, but I have this feeling she'd leave it on your bedside table when you're asleep. She wants you to have time to think about your answer rather than put you on the spot like that. If you do tell her yes, she gives you a kiss and a hug (and probably reveals a sculpture of your wedding cake topping TBH). If you say no, she just nods and says she respects your decision. She's chill like that.

Abigail

You guys are doing something wild like bungee jumping when you look to your right and she's holding the pendant in her hand with the biggest grin on her face (she probably drops it LMAO). Honestly, she looks like one of those videos of a dog's skin getting flapped about in the wind. If you say yes, she gives you a smooch and (if she can) does a little victory dance. If you say no, she nopes outta there as quick as she can.

Maru

Maru panics over it like crazy. She NEEDS everything to be perfect, or else she just might go mad. In the end, you guys are taking a walk in the forest during the night when there 'just so happens' to be a perfect stargazing spot set up on what 'just so happens' to be the night of a meteor shower that 'just so happens' to be starting any minute. If you say yes, she leans into you and says thank you while you guys watch the meteors. If you say no, she's still gonna watch the meteor shower with you because goddamn if that didn't take weeks' worth of stress to set up.

Emily

You're at a festival dancing and out of nowhere she goes 'hey, wanna get married?' You can barely hear her over the loud music and it's kind of just a 'what?' situation. Like, 'yeah, let's get married!' she says as she randomly takes out a mermaid pendant. If you say yes, she does a little cheer and continues dancing with you. If you say no, she just leaves (she's probably drunk at that moment).

Haley

She's taking photos of you in a bridal gown for a magazine company out in the fields of your farm. You have what you think is a fun little mock wedding, when she pulls out a mermaid pendant. You look up and she's got a never-before-seen sensitivity to her. If you say yes, she gives you a good ol' kiss on the lips and throws whatever else if near her (likely grass) like it's a bouquet. If you say no, she gets a little sour as a defense mechanism and thanks you for the photos.

-~-~-

[heresathreebee]

The One Where She Got A Dog

Yelena Belova X Reader

Summary: how Yelena became a dog mom Masterlist Part 2

Tags: E | 1.8k words | scary movie, winter, secret pasts, sapphic

AN: Black Widow movie really got me in my feelings about those characters, Yelena in particular. I havent watched The Thing in almost a year please look the other way if movie events are out of order.

Pretty Russian girls are not usually your type, but fuck if you weren't absolutely obsessed with this one. You laughed when she told you she was from Ohio.  She laughed when you said you were too. 

Aquavit and your grandma's biscuit recipe brought her into your cabin on the edge of the world where she admitted to you she had never seen John Carpenter's The Thing before. You turned it on just as the snow storm set in and wrapped up in your thickest blankets with her. You're trying not to get your hopes too high but she's not shy about asking you to scoot closer. 

"Skäl," you cheer just as the ominous opening credits end and they find the mysterious ship in the frozen wasteland of antarctica. 

"Have you ever been?," Yelena asked. 

You grimace at the strong taste of aquavit. It's like vodka but with caraway for 'flavor'. You look at her from the side and poor yourself a second shot. "Been…?" 

"There." She points at the screen. 

"I have actually," you admit in a way you hope is flat and uninteresting, "have you?" 

Yelena shook her head. It's possible she might think you're being sarcastic (you cross your fingers under the blanket and hope she does). She's smiling at you, thinking something (but still watching the screen with interest). 

She drops the subject until you have to pause the movie to pee. You unwrap yourself from the cocoon of blankets and as you stand she asks you another question. 

"What were you doing there? in Antarctica, I mean." 

You sigh and pretend to brush something off of your pants. "Science trip with my parents. Shitty vacation for me I'd rather be in the Bahamas." 

You resist the urge to look at her. After taking care of business, you come back just in time to put the biscuits in the oven. You hear Yelena lean into the kitchen archway as the floors creak immensely here. 

"No timer?," she asked. 

"No timer," you confirm. "I use the timer of my heart." 

Yelena scoffs. "Please don't burn them, I'm curious about these… what are they– pastries?" 

"Something like that." 

The two of you went back to the movie just as the gang on screen is trying to decipher who is human and who is not. You feel like something between you has changed and sadly not for the better. 

But she can't know. 

"I hate this part," you say, making absolutely no move to avert your gaze. 

Yelena is startled when the doctor's arms become trapped in the bear trap belly mouth of the "man" on the table. She quickly covers her eyes and giggles manically, slapping your chest for the vague and unhelpful warning. You realize she's not as close to you as before…

There's 20 minutes left of this movie and you haven't seen a single thing on screen. Yelena stopped asking you questions when you stopped being coherent with your answers. All you can think about is telling her. 

But you can't tell her. She would never understand. You barely understand and it's about you. 

"I lied." Your heart beats in your throat as you see her face you but you can't look at her directly for fear of losing your nerve. "About the science expedition? That's not why I was in Antarctica…" 

Yelena seems to wait for you to continue but… 

"Eh, no offense but, " you gesture with your hand, "I don't really know you like that." 

Yelena gave your reply a single nod. "I suppose that's fair." 

You can't help but fidget in your seat. "Idliketo" 

"What was that?" 

You cleared your throat. "I said… I said I'd like to. Know you like that, I mean…" 

Yelena gives you a smile. "I would like to know you like that, too." 

The movie ends, the biscuits are not burnt but buttery soft and golden brown, and the blizzard outside has subsided some. It's still going but at least it's not buffering the doors and windows like before. 

"How can you watch that film in a place like this?" Yelena cannot get enough of those biscuits, stuffing them in her mouth 2 at a time. "Does it make you paranoid?" 

"Yes it does," you say, putting your coat on, "I think that's what makes it so much scarier–  looking outside and being scared every person you come across ain't who they say they are. Sometimes its not a bad thing though... I think it is rather… poetic, too." 

Yelena's eyebrows furrow. "Where are you going?" 

You put on your boots and hope the duct tape stays on the hole you covered earlier. "Dogs are out in the shed. It's heated and they have food, but not for days and I'd rather have 'em in the house where I can take care of them." 

As you finished your sentence you reached for the door,  but stopped when you noticed Yelena getting dressed too. She gives you a nod as soon as her hood comes up, and you give this brave thing an appreciative once over. 

The snow that nearly all melted before is up to your knees now. Fresh, white, and fluffy. It muffles sound like the world's sidelong turning. The odd snowflake wafts lazily from the sky, but for the most part it's died down. You teach back and take Yelena's gloved hand to keep from staying too far apart. 

"You know I always wanted a dog," she said. She could have said it in a whisper from 100 yards away and you still would have heard her–  that is how eerily quiet it is. 

Yelena squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. She's probably remembering the movie. You try to distract her by saying, "Oh yeah? You can have one of mine then." 

Yelena laughs, then stops. "You serious?" 

"As a heart attack." You finally reach the door to the shed and unlatch the door. A chorus of barks begin and you charge forward to nudge them back to give Yelena space to come in as well. "I do some breeding up here–  just a side job. They're usually working dogs but they can be pets too." 

Buck licks your face from chin to forehead and you push him back. "Down, boy! Show some respect!" 

Yelena has two of the mongrels circling her, sniffing all her clothes and demanding to be pet. "That's Burt, Barney, and Bella. Buck's my stud, but these heathens are going to a farm. They've got sheep to watch." 

Yelena chuckles as her hands get covered in slobber. "I love them." 

They're almost grown, three quarters the height of their father. Buck didn't even look in Yelena's direction because he knows you give him treats. You take your scarf off as the heat of the shed threatens to smother you and search your pockets for jerky.  

"She's in there with the new puppies." You point to a darkened closet. "Don't get too close now, she's still a little protective." 

Yelena creeps closer. You see her look at you from the corner of her eye. Probably terrified by the morphing dog scene from the movie. You give her an encouraging smile and tell her where to find the light. It's a pull cord and it bathes the room in a warm golden yellow light. 

Yelena's heavy, controlled breathing turns into a coo. Mama dog is laying on her side watching the newcomer closely. There's a pup asleep in the nest of her legs, another chewing on the hay that litters the ground, and the last one is biting their mother's ear. Yelena looks back at you with an adorable pout on her lip. 

"So cute…" 

You chuckle and put your arm around her. Buck knows to steer clear of mama dog and slinks off. You make your guest walk closer with you to show mama she's got your confidence. 

"Yelena, this is Beyonce." Mama dog's ears perk at the sound of her name. "Beyonce, this is Yelena. Be nice." 

You reach down and scoop up the hay eating puppy at your feet. "This one's always hungry." 

You put the pup in her arms and scoop up the biter. "This one likes to play. All the time. Got more energy than the blue Energizer bunny actually." 

The pup in question is literally trying to wriggle out of your hands in its eagerness to climb you and eat your hair. 

"And that one sleeps a lot?" Yelena nodded her head at the last pup. 

"Pretty much." You put the writhing excited puppy down before it hurts itself and look up into the rafters. "And then there's the climber…" 

You both turn your heads when you hear a tiny bark. A cute little face stares down at you from the rafters and there's a feather stuck to its nose. You shake your head knowing this pup got it from ripping up pillows in another part of the dog house. 

"Better go get her," you said, not moving an inch to do so.  

Yelena sees your challenge and rises to it. As if trained to do exactly so, she assesses the wooden interior for foot and hand holds. You can see the wheels turning in her head as she calculates what will and won't support her weight. In the sweep of a single moment, she rises from the door and swings herself into the rafters using a build up a momentum to propel her fast in an upperward direction. She completes the climb and balances with ease, reaching out to collect the happy wagging miscreant from her mountain top, tucks her in her jacket and climbs a different way down. 

You stare at her. "Were you raised by trapeze artists?" 

Yelena laughs. "I thought everybody was." 

The pup is safe and happy and eager to explore its new friend. Yelena lets her lick, sniff, and scratch at her skin, her clothes, her hair. The pup catches Yelena with a tiny lick right on the tip of her nose and Yelena looks back at you with adoring eyes. 

You smile. "Got a name for her already don't you?" 

"Yes," Yelena whines, "no, are you sure about this? I should probably tell you I've never had a dog before…" 

"I can tell your good people," you reply. "And smart as a whip. You'll adapt, just call me if you ever need anything." 

~

Three weeks later you get a phone call from an unknown number. It's Yelena giving you an address and making you swear never to tell anybody about it. You don't have any friends so it's an easy secret to keep. 

You drive a few miles south and stumble upon a stationary trailer in the middle of nowhere, nothing but clearings and trees and sky. Actually very similar to your own home. 

The door opens and Yelena greets you with a beer and the pup under her arm, already almost a foot bigger than she was before. 

"Her name is Fanny." You both laugh yourselves hoarse and pile into the trailer to puppy proof the place. 

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 128: Snake

"Woah," Harry said, jumping between Draco and the 35 foot Antipodean Opaleye that was rearing up her head preparing to protect her young. He let out a stream of parsletongue as he held out a hand to calm her.

And Draco watched with fascination, as he always did, at the way the dragon seemed to understand the other man even though Harry couldn't understand them.

"Show off," he teased when the dragon turned and made her way back to her nest.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Maybe don't go traipsing over to her newborn hatchlings."

"I can't help it," Draco said, craning his neck to get another peek, "They're just so cute."

The other man shook his head but Draco knew that he agreed, in the weeks to come Harry would spend more time cooing over the babies than Draco did just the way he did every time they came here for hatching season. "We should head back," Harry said, "the sun's on it's way back down."

"We still haven't seen dad, though," Draco said, searching the horizon once more for the smaller, faster Opaleye that ought to be coming back with food.

Harry sighed, "I know," he said as he started packing his bag, hissing a quick warning at Zephyr who was sunbathing on the rock next to his bag and holding out a hand for her to slither into.

"It's not enough that you have the giant snakes," he said, nodding at the dragons, "you have to bring the miniature one, too?" Draco asked as the rainbow boa slipped up Harry arm to drape around his neck.

"You know how she gets when we leave her behind in the tent," he said as he slipped the bag over his shoulders, "and she's hardly miniature," he added as they started the climb back down to where they'd pitched their tent.

(Read more below the cut)

"I'm worried about the muggle farmers," Draco said as he looked out over the rolling farm land, not far from here, where unsuspecting sheep and cows were grazing.

Harry nodded, "I know but that's why we're here, if they see anything we'll wipe their memories."

"We had to do it half a dozen times last year," he complained.

"It's not the dragons' fault that those stupid sheep are such easy prey."

Draco steadied Harry as a rock slipped out from under him, "You were supposed to talk to them."

"I did!" he protested. "Bill thinks that I can just tell them anything but they only understand like half of what I say."

"I know," Draco replied as they made it back to their camp and headed into the tent to clean up.

"Besides," Harry added, "He knows he's got to find food and the pickings are slim. Otherwise we wouldn't be this far north."

Draco collapsed into one of the cushioned chairs that they always brought with them and Zephyr slid down Harry's body and made her way over to Draco instead, curling around his neck. "Gentle," he chastised her as she wrapped tighter.

Harry glanced up from where he was unpacking their bag and hissed at her and she loosened her grip around his neck. "You're doing better with that," he commented.

He rolled his eyes as she bumped her head against his chin, "You know, oddly enough, when you suggested we get a pet I wasn't imagining that we'd get a five foot long rainbow boa that likes to try to strangle me."

"She's not trying to strangle you," Harry said as he went to see what they had in the pantry to make up for dinner, "She's just cold."

He hummed noncommittally, "I was imagining a crup," he added.

"But she's a delight," Harry said, "And they were going to kill her."

Draco sighed, "I know. And she is usually nice."

"And our flat is tiny," the other man added as he huffed a laugh, "I think it's sandwiches for dinner," Harry said.

"Alright."

Harry made up sandwiches and put some crisps on their plates, carrying one over to Draco. "You know what might work for keeping the dragons from getting after Muggle sheep?"

"What?" Draco asked through a bite of sandwich.

"If we had a wizarding sheep farm closer to here. Then they'd raise the sheep specifically for hatching season, let the dragons hunt the sheep and then go on their merry way."

"Right," Draco said, agreeing that it would make everything easier and cause a lot less hassle with trying to obliterate people. "That's a good idea but who in their right mind would want to live on a sheep farm?"

Harry shrugged, "Well whoever it was would have lots of room for a crup or a dog."

Draco paused, sandwich halfway to his mouth, "You can't be serious."

When Harry didn't say anything Draco continued.

"You want us to come and live in the middle of nowhere?" he asked. "To raise sheep?" he added incredulously.

"No," Harry said, "No, of course not. You're right-"

"Harry, I-"

He shook his head, "Forget it. Forget I said anything, yeah?"

"Wait," Draco said. "Just," he shook his head and Zephyr reached toward Harry, her neck stretching out a good seven inches until Harry held out his arm for her to wrap around. "I need a second to get my head around it."

Harry stroked his fingers over her smooth head and waited patiently.

"So, in this scenario we'd live here year round?"

He nodded, "But it would be easy to get a port key license."

"And we'd live in what?"

A soft, wistful expression slipped across Harry's face. "A cozy little cottage with a fireplace that Zephyr can curl up near and where we can warm up after a morning outside feeding the goats and the sheep. The bathroom would have a big claw foot tub big enough for two. And we'd have a cozy afghan that Molly knit for us to drape over the back of the couch. You'd wear cozy cable knit jumpers and wellies from the beginning of autumn through the spring."

"What else?"

Harry gave him a little smile, "We'd shear the sheep ourselves in the spring and learn how to convert it into yarn so Molly can make you more jumpers and make us more afghans."

"Is that all?" he asked.

His partner shook his head, "I'd learn to make stew and shepherds pie, all of the hot comfort dishes around here. And in the summer we'd grow a garden with vegetables and fruits." His toe brushed over Draco's as he continued, "You'd wear one of those giant sunhats to keep yourself from burning. Maybe we'd get some chickens, too."

"It sounds sort of nice when you put it that way," he confessed.

"Doesn't it?"

He thought for a long moment, "Then lets do it."

"Really?" Harry asked, perking up at the possible yes.

"Yeah," Draco answered, smiling at him, heart warming in his chest at the smile on Harry's face. "Why not? If we're terrible at it, we can always quit."

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

Harry sprung up from his chair and moved to straddle Draco's lap, pressing his lips to Draco's. "You're the best."

"I know," he replied with a laugh as he leaned up to meet Harry's kiss. "What have we got to lose?"

And the truth was that they had nothing to lose and everything to gain. They lived out the rest of their days tending sheep, and chickens, and dragons, and any other creature that wandered in.

It was nothing like Draco had expected when he was young and it was infinitely better.

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

Day 127: Fake Dating | Day 129: Pangea

[thewalkingdead-fan101]

In This Hell Daryl Dixon X Reader Part 4/??

Hey Guys! Part 4 is here! I really hope that you guys enjoy it! I also apologise if something isn't written correctly. :) Warnings- General Walking dead warnings, Blood, Gore, Swearing.

Opening my eyes, I sit up uncomfortably as I stretch. 
Last night, the group had a restless nights sleep… well more so than usual.
Daryl left in the middle of the night, to look for Sophia, and still hasn’t come back. Carol was up all night crying… 
Not that I blame her, Her daughter is missing.
"Morning." "Morning Carol." I smiled softly. "Where's Daryl?" She asked watching the door behind me. "He left last night, and went looking, still hasn't come back that I know of.” "Oh.. My, I am so sorry." "Don't be.. He is a grown man, he can handle himself." "I really do appreciate this." "I know that if it was my child out there you'd help to find them." She softly smiled nodding, then hugged me. "I'll see what's going on." I smiled and walked out.
I look out and seen Daryl, leaning against the traffic barrier, exhaling smoke.
 We locked eyes from across the car wrecks.
“At least he is okay.” I said under my breath.
I walked over to where the everyone was gathering supplies for their search party.
“Morning Glenn." I smiled, walking past. "Everyone. Come here." We all walked towards where Rick was. He unfolded an arsenal on the hood of a car. "Everybody takes a weapon." "These aren't the kind of weapons we need. What about the guns?" Andrea asked, "We've been over that. Daryl, Rick and I are carrying. We can't have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles." My brother answered "It's not the trees I'm worried about." "Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, a herd happens to be passing by. See, then it's game over for all of us. So you need to get over it." Shane said. "The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around and come back down the other side. Chances are she'll be by the creek... It's her only landmark." Daryl said. "Stay quiet, stay sharp. Keep space between you, but always stay within sight of each other." "Everybody assemble your packs." Shane announced. They better not think that I'm staying here. "Shane" I ran after him. "Yeah?" He asked.
 Before I got the chance to say anything, arms wrapped around me and started to carry me away. I didn't scream because Shane was laughing as soon as it happened, so it wasn't a walker. I was put down away from everyone. "How-" My back was pushed against a car, and his lips crashed to mine.. I bit his lip, not hard but not soft. "What was that for?!" "For not letting me know that you were okay…” I said sweetly. “Ya don’t need to worry about me.”
“I do though… I worry about you.” "I'll see ya later." He said softly kissing my neck. "Huh?" "You're gonna be staying here while we look for Sophia." He continued. I rolled my head back. "Okay… I will see you when you get back.” I closed my eyes and the sensation stopped. My eyes shot open to see Daryl, running towards the group. I scoffed when realisation hit me. He hit me where I was most vulnerable… I smirked, that asshole. I walked back to the RV. "Why are you so happy?" "That man... Deserves an award for that." We looked at each other and laughed. "Where's Dale?" We both got up and looked atop the RV. "Ain't you supposed to be fixing that radiator? What if they come back with Sophia and Rick wants to move on right away?" "I had it fixed yesterday." "What? What was all that rubbing and sanding for then? That just bullshit?" "Yeah, that's one word, another word would be pantomime. Just for show… No one else needs the know that." "Pantomime…” T-dog sighed. "If the others know we're mobile-" "They'd just want to go." I answered. "So you don't think they're gonna find Sophia, that it?" "I'm just guarding against the worst. Sooner or later, if she isn't found, people will start doing the math. I want to hold off the needs-of-the-many-versus-the-needs-of-the-few arguments as long as I can." "That's one tricky hose, huh?" "Very." Dale smiled. "Look I'm going to look around for a bit, is there anything I need to look for?" "Not at this moment. But please, please stay close." Dale said. I grabbed a duffel bag I found laying on the ground earlier, slinging it over my shoulder. "Stay safe." "Will do."
 I was walking around for almost two hours and the bag was almost full. I heard a shuffle behind me and turned quickly, only to see a rabbit run across the highway, I smiled and sighed when I heard a snarl. I looked back to see a walker coming my way I looked down and saw a stick, ducking down and picking it up I lodged it into its eye, over and over again, it's blood splattered all over my shirt, neck and face. I decided to walk back and as I arrived I over-heard Dale and T-dogs conversation. "What are we doing?" "Pulling supplies together." "No, I mean.. What are we doing? People off in the woods, they's looking for that poor girl and we're here. Why? Because they think that we're the weakest. What are you, 70?" "Sixty-four." "Uh huh. And I'm the one black guy. Realise how precarious that makes my situation?" "What the hell are you talking about?" "I'm talking about two good-old-boy cowboy sheriffs and a redneck whose brother cut off his own hand because I dropped a key.. Who in that scenario you think is gonna be first to get lynched?" "You can't be serious... Am I... Hey, am I missing something? Those Cowboys have done alright by Us. And if I'm not mistaken that redneck went out of his way to save your ass… More than once." "And don't forget about Andrea. Kills her own sister." "She was already dead." "Then wants to blow herself up. Yeah, she's all there." "She's having a tough time. What is wrong with you?" "The whole world is having a tough time. Damn, man! Open your eyes. Look where we are! Stuck in this mess here!" "Shhh." "Let's just go.. Let's just take the RV." "You've gone off the deep end." "I mean it, man. Why are we on the side of the road like live bait? Let's go, you and me and (Y/n). Let's go before they get back." "Oh, my god! You're burning up. Give me that! Come on! Here, take these. We've got to knock that fever down....where the hell are they?" "Dale, We are the weak links. An old man, a black guy and a little pregnant (Y/S/T) girl." I took a deep breath in and what was being said. 
“Nice to know what really goes on in that head of yours Theodore.. There should be some drugs in the bag." I said throwing the duffel bag at him.
 As the bag landed in front of Theodore, I noticed the two of them slowly stand up. 
“Oh, my god! Is that blood?" Dale rushed over. "Yeah. I took down a walker. It’s no big deal.” “No big-“ dale started but was interrupted by a loud scream erupted from the forest. Both Dale and I hurried to the Forrest line. All of a sudden it was quiet. After about 10 minutes of standing there waiting, I was about to walk away.
 "They're back." Dale said. "Carl's been shot." Glenn said stepping over the railing. "Shot? What do you mean shot?" "I don't know, Dale, I wasn't there. All I know is this chick rode out of nowhere like Zorro on a horse and took Lori." "And you let her?" Dale asked. I hugged Carol as she shook her head, after a few seconds she left for the RV. "Climbed down out of my asshole, man. Rick sent her, she knew Lori's Name and Carl's." Daryl said walking past, not even acknowledging that I was there. "I heard screams, was that you?" Dale asked Andrea. "She got attacked by a walker. It was a close call." "Andrea, are you alright?" She looked at him and the look on her face showed pure annoyance. "Let's go." We started to walk back when all of a sudden Daryl burst out of the RV, running towards us. Next thing i know is that I was being crushed in a hug. "You do know that if I can't breathe neither can the baby." I laughed softly. He pulled back mumbling something when he looked down. "Why are ya bloody?" I stayed silent. "Answer me." "I was attacked by a walker, and before you go and yell at them for it, I decided to look for supplies." "You are on lockdown, from now on, you ain't being alone." "Daryl, I’m not going to be a damsel in distress, or bait. Im not going to be in lock down.” "You're on lockdown! You ain't gonna be Bait and you ain't gonna be alone." “I guess that there is no point in arguing?” “Nah, there ain't. This conversation is over.” 
We both returned to the group.

“The girl on the horse, Maggie, she gave us clear instructions on how to get to the farm. We could all relocate there.” Glenn suggested.
“I won't do it. We can't just leave.” Carol defended. “Carol, the group is split. We're scattered and weak.” Dale tried reasoning. “What if she comes back and we're not here? It could happen.” She argued “If Sophia found her way back and we were gone, that would be awful.” Andrea cut in. “Okay. We got to plan for this. I say tomorrow morning is soon enough to pull up stakes. Give us a chance to rig a big sign, leave her some supplies. I'll hold here tonight, stay with the RV.” Daryl spoke. “If the RV is staying, I am too.” “Thank you. Thank you both.” Carol smiled softly at Dale and Daryl. “I’m in.” Andrea nodded. “Well, if you're all staying then I’m-“ “Not you, Glenn. You're going. Take Carol's Cherokee.” Dale argued “Me? Why is it always me?” “You have to find this farm, reconnect with our people and see what's going on. But most important, you have to get T-Dog there. This is not an option. That cut has gone from bad to worse. He has a very serious blood infection. Get him to that farm. See if they have any antibiotics, the ones that (Y/n) found won’t help for much longer. Because if not, T-Dog will die, no joke.” Dale stated. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Daryl walk over to Merle’s motorcycle. “Keep your oily rags off my brother's motorcycle. Why'd you wait till now to say anything? Got my brother's stash. Crystal, X. Don't need that. Got some kick ass painkillers. Doxycycline. Not the generic stuff neither. It's first class. Merle got the clap on occasion.” 
He tossed over a bag of assorted drugs, then pointed at me. “You, get ya stuff. You’re going with Glenn and Dog.” 
“Excuse me?”
 “You heard me.” He said walking away.

I ran after him. 
“Daryl, I want to stay, I want to be here for Carol.” 
“I don’t care what ya want.”
 “Why are you acting like this?”
 “Im already babysitting the others. Im not babysitting you too.”
 “Are you being serious? I don’t need to be babysat!” 
“You’re an easy target out here. It’s almost dark. You’re going with them.”
“Daryl-“
 “I ain’t arguing with ya. Get your shit.” He stalked off. I sighed in defeat and entered the RV, grabbing my backpack, making sure that I had the book that has become my new best friend, along the journey.
 As I exited the RV I noticed Glenn helping T-dog into the Cherokee.
Making my way towards the car, I was pulled aside and into a hug.
“Thank you. For everything.” Carol sniffled into my shoulder.
 “Hey, we’re going to find her.” I responded hugging her closer. I could feel her body softly shake against mine as she sobbed.
 “You’re so strong Carol, Sophia needs that when she comes back. She needs you at your best.” I pulled away and wiped the tears from her cheek. “I will see you again soon.” I smiled softly. “Please, Make sure you tell Lori that I’m praying for Carl.” “I will. Stay safe.” I walked over to where Glenn was talking to T-Dog and Dale.

“You’re coming?” T-dog asked. 
“I didn’t really have a choice in the matter.” I sarcastically laughed. “It may be the safest place for you. Especially in your predicament.” Andrea stated.
“In my predicament?” I scoffed “I didn’t mean to offend you.” Andrea sighed pulling me in for a small hug.
“It’s fine.” 
“I think it’s time for you guys to hit the road, while there’s still some daylight. Dont want to be taking any wrong turns.” Dale smiled. “Dale, Just remember, Backtrack to Fairburn road, the farm is two miles down. The mailbox says Greene.” Glenn stopped.
 “Fairburn, two miles down, Greene.” He nodded. “Where’s Daryl?” I asked hopeful. “Im not sure.” Dale smiled sadly.
 “Make sure you’re all safe please… Thank you.” I replied hugging him, getting into the car, behind T-dog. 
“I will.” Dale nodded. 
Glenn put the Cherokee in reverse, slowly peeling out before turning around.
As the car was turning, I spotted a pair of eyes watching, leaning against one of the trees. “Fairburn isn’t that far. Maybe 10 minutes?” Glenn spoke up, trying to fill the silence.
“Is this really a good idea? I mean we don’t even know who these people are.” I responded. 
“They seem normal. I mean why would Rick send someone to us if they were going to hurt us?”
 “Crazier things have happened.” T-dog muttered. “Come on guys, we need to be positive. They’re helping Carl. They don’t need to.” Glenn stated.
 After turning onto Fairburn Road, we continued on for the two miles. 
“Glenn. I think we missed it.”
 “What?” 
“The farm, I think we missed it…”
 “Are you sure?” He asked pulling up. “I think so? We’re looking for Greene right?” I asked. 
“Yeah.” He sighed. “How far?” 
“Not that far… I think it’s the one behind us, I’ll go check.” I went to open the door. “No. Daryl will kill me if something happens. I’ll just back up.” He smiled nervously. 
He put the car into reverse, making sure to shine the headlights onto the mailbox when it entered our view.
 “You were right… Greene.” 
“Ill get the gate. There’s no walkers around, and it looks safe to me.” I smiled, jumping out and walking toward the gate, not leaving any time to argue. 
“(Y/n)! Get back in the car! Glen whisper shouted from the driver side window. Unlatching the chain, I pushed the gate inwards and followed through. 
“Glenn, hurry up and drive in.” 
The car slowly started rolling forward, stopping a metre away from the gate.
I pushed it closed and re-latched the gate before jumping back into the car. “Lets go.” I smiled. Glenn shook his head and T-dog chuckled. We drove down the road, leading towards a beautiful farm house.
Stopping the car we all got out and walked up the front steps.
 “You okay T?” I asked looking over as he shivered, only for him to nod.
We all stopped and looked at the front door. “So do we ring the bell? I mean it looks like people live here.” Glenn looked at us. “We're past this kind of stuff, aren't we? Having to be considerate.” T-dog asked. “Did you close the gate up the road when you drove in?”
I jumped, looking over to where the voice came from, watching a young woman with short brown hair, stand up and walk toward us. “Uh, hi. Yes, we closed it. Did the latch and everything. Hello. Nice to see you again. We met before briefly.” Glenn rambled. “Look, we came to help. There anything we can do? It's not a bite. I cut myself pretty bad though.” “We'll have it looked at. I'll tell them you're here.” “We have some painkillers and antibiotics. I already gave him some. If Carl needs any…” “Come on inside. I'll make you something to eat.” She smiled at us.
We followed her inside, to see Rick and Lori standing in one of the door frames.

“Hey” Glenn patted him on the shoulder. “Hey” he returned it. “Um, we're here, okay?” Glenn nodded. “Thank you.” Lori sighed. “Whatever you need.” T-dog added, stepping aside for me. “Lori.” I pulled her in for a hug.
“(Y/n/n).” She hugged back as hard as I did.
We pulled away.
 “What are you doing here?” She asked. “I was overruled by Daryl. I wanted to make sure that you guys are okay…” I smiled softly pushing her hair out of her face. She laughed softly, her eyes rimmed red from the tears.
 “How is Carl? What’s happening?” I asked. “He was shot, the bullet, it, it broke. A fragment has caused internal bleeding. He is having seizures and its terrifying me. This man Hershel, he is going to operate... one of his group shot Carl, he is with Shane trying to find a respirator I think... I could lose my boy.” She responded tears streaming down her face.
“Oh honey.” I puled her back in for another hug.
 “You Grimes’ are strong. He will pull through. Go, be with your husband and your boy. I’ll be out here.” I smiled as she nodded. “Thank you.” She said looking at me before disappearing into the room. 
I followed the direction Glenn and T-dog went, entering a kitchen/dining area. “(Y/n), this is Maggie and this is Patricia...” Glenn introduced me. “Nice to meet you both. Thank you for your hospitality.” “You got here right in time. This couldn't go untreated much longer, ‘Merle Dixon’,  Is that your friend with the antibiotics?” Patricia asked, looking after T-dogs arm. “No, ma'am. Merle's no longer with us. Daryl gave us those, his brother.” Glenn responded. “Not sure I'd call him a friend.” T-dog muttered. “He is today. This doxycycline might have just saved your life. You know what Merle was taking it for?” She asked. “The clap. Um, venereal disease. That's what Daryl said.” Glenn nodded “I'd say Merle Dixon's clap was the best thing to ever happen to you.” She lightly joked. “I'm really trying not to think about that.” “Lighten up T.” I smiled softly, patting his shoulder.
I left the room, walking towards the front door. “Where are you going?” Glenn stood up.
“To get some air, I’m only going to the porch. I promise I’m not going far.” I smiled. He reluctantly sat back down. Taking a seat on the top step, I look out over the fields, closing my eyes, taking in the night air. Hearing gravel against wheels, I open my eyes and look up, seeing headlights making their way to the house. 
I run inside and poked my head into the room Rick and Lori was in.
“-Rick, Lori, you may want to step out.” The man I assume to be Hershel finishes. 
“I’m sorry for interrupting but they’re back.” “You stay here with him.” Hershel told Patricia.
I followed Rick and Hershel outside.
 Rick and Shane shared a hug.
 “Carl?” Shane asked “There's still a chance.” Rick responded. “Otis?” Hershel asked. “No.” Shane shook his head. “We say nothing to Patricia. Not till after. I need her.” We all nodded.
Hershel rushed inside with the bags of medical supplies. 
I looked over to my brother and hugged him, I left Shane and Rick to talk. 
Finding Lori, I sat with her and grabbed her hand, running my thumb across the back of it. “He will pull through…” I nodded.
Maggie, Glenn and T-dog has joined the living room, now waiting room. After 15 minutes Rick returns with Shane.
Waiting another 15 minutes he stood up.
“Is there anywhere I can clean up?” Shane asked. “Ill take you.” Maggie stood up, Shane following.
After an hour or so the door opened. “He seems to have stabilised.” Hershel emerged. “Oh god.” Rick breathed. “I don't have words.” Lori said huddling close to her husband. “I don't either. Wish I did. How do I tell Patricia about Otis?” “You go to Carl. I'll go with Hershel.” Rick told Lori.
Hershel and Rick left, leaving, Lori, myself and the others.
Lori looked over to me.
“Go, see your boy.” I smiled.
Glenn and T-dog were celebrating.
I smiled as they laughed, even joining them before leaving the room.

My head turned and I seen Patricia sitting at the table, where she not long ago treated T-dog.
 I could hear the muffled voices of Hershel and Rick, then the gut wrenching sound of desperate sobs throughout the house. 
My heart breaking for the woman, the woman whose husband won’t ever return.


Series Masterlist Next Part

[unseelie-suggestion]

Hi where do you find all the information for this blog? Or least what are some of your best sources?

My information is largely experience based in the Northeast US states. My sister, an inhabitant of the Northwest with experience in the Central US, is also an important resource when citing the rarer instances of fae (changelings, fetch, etc.). My information on traditional fae is generational from my paternal side, with several archives and papers detailing their findings kept for future use.

(Serious answer under the cut)

My grandma died almost a decade ago. She was this tiny, broad shouldered Lithuanian immigrant who married an Irishman on a little farm in the middle of Nowhere New England. Growing up she called me a changeling, called my sister a selkie, called my brothers her little brownies. But she also told us stories of black dogs and women with dark hair by the sea side. Stories of untrustworthy horses and hunters seeking golden pheasants and elk with silver antlers. Tbh idk how much of what she told us is native to her or her husband’s homelands, or how much of it she made up herself.

Another factor was definitely my cousins. For reference, my family gets together for a big “Clan Meeting” (on my Irish grandpa’s side obviously) every autumn. We meet up at the only aunt and uncle’s house where they have enough room for 100+ people and food for such. The house is also in the middle of Nowhere New England, but unlike my family’s farmhouse, their home is in the middle of the woods. 

Now, the cousins who didn’t want to spend the whole day checking in with extended family members they see once a year usually ended up in the woods. And I mean, we were kids, and kids do as kids do and start playing a game. Idk who came up with the idea or why we were always so focused on it (probably bc we were all Catholics from strict homes but idk) but the game was intense and annual. We only stopped when the aunt got worried that the coyotes that had been killing deer would catch us too, and we were officially banned from wandering the woods.  

The “game” was really more of a cult, or at least a play cult. 

There were different ranks and such and the youngest were usually “worms” and the oldest we called “red rangers” (like red rover or something. again idk who came up with that). To become a red ranger you had to a) dig up 100 worms, b) find a mostly complete animal skeleton, and c) arrange the bones in a circle at the base of the dead maple and keep the worms in the center until our parents started calling for us to come back to the house. 

We were kids, ofc, so none of us thought this was weird or maybe cultish in the slightest. We just liked dirt and worms and bones. As kids do. I have no idea how we didn’t get shot/get the police called on us. I mean, what would you do if you were walking through the woods and saw about 50 kids circled around a massive dead maple and loudly debating “bone circles” and “worm diggers”?

Long story short I have very vivid memories of that time bc when you’re a kid walking through the woods looking for bones you see and hear some shit and as an adult I’m like “yeah that was a grouse” or “definitely startled a poor mangy fox” but when you’re a kid that shit is made of monsters and magic and the stories your grandma told you. 

This blog is kind of an amalgamation of those half remembered stories and frighteningly vivid childhood memories and some of it draws on traditional fae and supernatural lore but it’s largely of the imaginations of my cousins and grandma. 

As with anything, the best source is the elders of your youth and your own fears.

[elenatria]

You are going to write Pacho smut? God bless you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah. Working on it. .__.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407543/chapters/48722309

The first rays of light shone over the deserted land as a reminder of a long-lost normalcy, a glimpse of how life ought to be everywhere else on the planet but there, on that barren landscape, that unique, eternally poisonous spot on the map.

The man and the boy drove through fields and farms where Pavel spotted many places they hadn’t visited before, the so-called “dirty villages” as opposed to the ones they had already cleaned of the lives and life forms humans had left behind. Bacho was keeping stubbornly silent refusing to make any stops, driving on until Pavel realized they were going around in circles.

He was about to ask why when the brooding man on the wheel broke the silence.

“I’m not supposed to be alone with you,” he grumbled, eyes staring straight ahead.

“Why--”

“You know very well why,” Bacho snapped. “I’m not gonna spend the rest of my life in a Gulag because of you.”

Pavel sighed. “I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

“What are you here for then?”

“Stop you from killing yourself.”

“What?...”

Pavel swore he had never seen a funnier grimace in his adult life. Suppressing a giggle he hoped his mentor was as good a lover as he was a driver: for all the shock in his bulging eyes, his experienced hands and feet were keeping the two of them steady and safe on their course to nowhere.

“I saw a dream,” Pavel explained, “we were at the opera, you were blowing your brains out with my toy rifle.”

“Jesus Christ, and you’re here because of a fucking dream?” Bacho huffed.

“I guess...”

The truck took an abrupt turn on the road between two fields.

“I have no intention of killing myself,” the veteran assured him. “And I still have no idea what you’re doing here.”

“I told you, it was my dream,” Pavel insisted.

“Start having different dreams, will you?” Bacho rumbled. “Try sex dreams, that’s what I do.”

Pavel licked his dry lips gathering up all the courage he had. “Who… who do you dream of?”

“What…?”

“Who do you--”

The brakes’ screeching sound smothered Pavel’s last words as Bacho pulled over on the side of the road. He released his seat belt and turned to the boy.

“You’re gonna get us both shot, you know that?” he pointed a threatening finger at his face.

“But Garo said you--”

“Never mind what that dickhead said,” Bacho spat, “this is Soviet land, not Afghanistan. If they caught us--”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--” Pavel stuttered.

“You’re sorry? Sorry?” Bacho laughed. “You have no idea what being sorry means, boy. No fucking idea.”

Pavel frowned; the last thing he needed that moment was being reminded of his inexperience.

“Maybe you could explain…?” he suggested timidly. He knew this was no time to have an argument with the man on the driver’s seat but there was an unchartered depth in Bacho’s eyes that was both horrifying and pitiful.

Bacho pursed his lips, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening in painful memory. “You weren’t the first to come to me you know,” he rasped. “Lost, wagging his tail for protection, sad puppy eyes…” He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm as if to fight off a lingering migraine.  “JESUS fucking Christ…”

“I… don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand,” Bacho growled. “It never got serious, it was nothing, but the others could smell it on us, the potential, the… need. They thought they’d make him tougher, make a man out of him before it was too late. See, it was just a game to them, it was just…” Bacho squeezed the wheel until his knuckles went white. “They… They hazed him to death.”

“What…”

Pavel felt his heart sinking. It was unimaginable - the strongest, toughest man he had met since he had arrived in that god-forsaken place had stopped the truck in the middle of nowhere to show him the gaping wound in his soul. His only friend, his protector, drowning in an ocean of regret.

He lowered his eyes as if he had been there, as if he was responsible somehow. “I’m… sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Bacho chuckled bitterly like someone who had heard a million sorries in his life. “I assure you no one will ever be as ‘sorry’ as he was when he was gulping down water instead of air. So don’t try acting sad, you’re not him. And you’re not me.”

“I wish I were…”

Bacho turned to contemplate Pavel’s face. “You might want to take that wish back, boy,” he grumbled. “You are nothing like me, you’ll never be like me. Thank God for that.”

“But I want to.”

“You want what, to become an expert in merciful killings?” Bacho roared jutting his face toward him. “Fine. I’ll teach you how.”

He kicked the door open and walked around to the back of the truck. Pavel followed him with fearful eyes as he pulled the back of the stakebed down and grabbed a riffle. Before the young man could turn, Bacho opened the door, grabbed his arm and pulled him out, almost dragging him to the ground like a rag doll. Pavel had barely stumbled back on his feet when the rifle was hurled at him, punching the air out of his lungs.

“I’ve taught you how to shoot,” Bacho panted. “Now shoot.”

“W-why?” Pavel stuttered, his lips white as a sheet.

“BECAUSE I’M TELLING YOU, YOU FUCKHEAD,” Bacho roared. “Can’t you obey a simple fucking order?”

Pavel’s lips were trembling. “You… You told me never to point this gun at you. That was my order.”

“That was a rule, not an order,” Bacho corrected him, raging fire lighting up his eyes. “And I’m changing the rules now. Are you an idiot?”

“N-No…” Pavel whispered lowering his head, looking for a way out of his living nightmare among the rocks and pebbles under his feet.

“Then SHOOT.”

“I…”

For all his numbness and terror Pavel was trying to figure out a way to blow Bacho’s head with the back of his rifle so as to bring him unconscious back to the safety of the camp. Trying to talk him out of suicide would be pointless. He wished Garo had come with them, he wished they weren’t alone. He wished--

“I can’t.”

Bacho grabbed the barrel with both hands and stabbed his own chest with it. “Do a man a favour,” he snarled shaking the gun, digging it deeper into his flesh. “Isn’t that what you want to be good at? Merciful killings? C’mon, no one will know, you’ll tell them you heard rustling leaves and you thought it was a dog.”

Pavel was gawking at him wondering if it would be a good idea to let go of the rifle, leave him with it. They weren’t supposed to be doing this, fighting. They were supposed to be on their knees with prying hands all over each other.

“Why don’t you shoot me, Pavel…” Bacho pleaded, his gaze softer now, broken, welling up with agony. “Shoot me before I… Before anyone knows, before anyone suspects. Before you get killed because of me… Please, Pavlunya, do this for me… Please…”

Pavel felt Bacho’s grip on the barrel loosen for a second – that was all he needed; with one long terrified grunt he ripped it from Bacho’s maddened clutch and flung it beyond his reach. The gun made a circle in the air and landed a few meters away raising a cloud of dust.

Bacho, chest heaving, eyes of a lunatic, dragged his steps toward Pavel glaring down on him, clenching and unclenching his fists on his sides.

“That was a mistake, boy,” he groaned menacingly.

“No,” Pavel said. “You’re not gonna die, not on my watch.”

“You forgot rule number two,” Bacho snarled, his nose inches away from Pavel’s shivering ghost-like paleness. “Don’t let them suffer or I’ll kill you. I didn’t mean just the poor buggers we’ve been shooting down.”

“No,” Pavel shook his head pressing his lips shut. “No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I’m not shooting you down. Kill me, I’m not shooting you down.”

The unexpected blow that landed on Pavel’s jaw turned the world black as he fell flat, chest on the ground, hands scratching on rough pebbles to soften the fall. He sucked in a gasp filling his lungs with dust but before he could turn to face his attacker Bacho rolled him on his back, straddling him.

“Why are you doing this?” the dark-haired man roared “Why? You wanna die?”

“We’re dead anyway…” Pavel muttered with a calmness he didn’t know he had.

Bacho searched his face, his piercing, unreadable stare. Drops of sweat were sliding down his temples, falling on Pavel’s cheeks. Pavel wasn’t panting anymore, he was blinking slowly, his gaze patient, serene and fathomless.

“You don’t understand,” Bacho said with growing despair. “The things I want to do to you, the things… I would have you do to me, they’re not just illegal, they’re immoral.”

“I don’t care,” Pavel breathed as vivid images of his tongue doing sinful, wonderful things to the man riding him played behind his closed eyes, his throat dry as the soil beneath them. He repeated the words softly hoping the Georgian would finally realize his need for him. “I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care…” He raised his head and nuzzled against the tip of Bacho’s long hawk-like nose, his hot breath tickling the waiting, half-open mouth. “I don’t. Care.”

“Fuck—”

Before Pavel knew it Bacho’s hands were all over him and under his clothes, angry lips crushing against each other, eating each other out, a powerful, overwhelming tongue breaching his mouth, ravishing it, fucking into it. Never before had Pavel felt so many emotions at once; he was hard and desperate and longing for a hug and a good fuck, fearing for his life and Bacho’s life and it was all too much, too strong and he was losing his mind as he felt the veteran’s hardness swelling against his, hips rolling softly against his growing manhood, rocking back and forth, yearning for friction, for him. For his warmth, his adorable ignorance, his virginity. He knew it then, the answer to all his questions, to his loneliness; he knew and he would smile the happiest smile if Bacho wasn’t giving his lip a savage bite sucking on his juices, swirling his tongue around Pavel’s hotness, thirsty for more, thirsty for everything he had to give, every trace of his innocence, all of it. Every single drop.

He knew it and spread his legs to let Bacho’s weight sink between them, welcoming the intruder, giving in. He finally knew the answer to everything.

He was loved. He was free.

[beckzorz]

Out of Nowhere (15/21)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OFC Summary: An offhand comment at work draws Jesse Kaplan into the orbit of Bucky Barnes. Bucky’s excited at the prospect of normalcy, but there’s nothing normal about falling in love with the Winter Soldier. Words: 3718 A/N: The song for this chapter is “Ain’t Misbehavin’ - 2016 Mono Remaster” by Ray Charles on The Atlantic Studio Albums in Mono (Remastered).

PART 15: “AIN’T MISBEHAVIN’”

The two-hour drive north to the safehouse passed in silence. Natasha spent the bulk of the time frowning at her smartphone. Jesse pressed her forehead against the tinted window and dozed straight through sunrise.

Only once they pulled off the freeway did Natasha slide her phone back in her pocket with a sigh.

“Jesse.”

Jesse rubbed her sore neck. “Hm?”

“Once we get to the house, I’ll want to talk to you about what happened with Current Relief,” Natasha said. Her eyes were wide, mouth serious. “Is that okay?”

“About what happened last night?”

“That too. But I really wanted to hear what you went through.”

Jesse flinched. She pulled up her feet and wrapped an arm around her knees. “I told Bucky…”

“I know,” Natasha said soothingly. “He told me some of it when he first found out. I just want to hear it straight from you. Things can get lost in translation.”

“What, were you speaking in Russian?” Jesse pursed her lips. Natasha blinked; a smirk ghosted over her features.

“No,” she said. “But still. You had some time to rest. Think you’re good to talk? It’ll help us make sense of all the data. And talking things over can help.” She sighed. “To a degree, anyway. It’s better than not talking.”

Jesse turned to stare back out of the window, her cheek pressed against her knee. She hadn’t been able to talk about any of it with Bucky. She hadn’t wanted him to see her at her worst. Better to have written it out.

Jesse bit her tongue to keep from swearing. She should’ve brought the notebook with her.

But Natasha wasn’t Bucky. Maybe with a stranger, it wouldn’t be so hard to keep her cool. And if she did get all panicked, at least it wasn’t Bucky seeing her fall apart.

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure.”

“Thank you, Jesse,” Natasha murmured. She reached out and gently squeezed Jesse’s shoulder.

Wherever they were, it was disgustingly suburban—exurban, even. This was the sort of place people went when they had a flock of kids and a flock of dogs. They turned off onto an even more remote road. Sparse woods grew thicker as they wound along, reaching up into the dull blue sky.

“I don’t know how people live out here,” Jesse muttered.

“They have cars and they enjoy open space,” Natasha answered. “This is nothing. I know someone who lives on a farm. With a tractor.”

Jesse’s lips twitched. “How quaint.”

The car pulled up to a house at the end of the paved part of a narrow road in sparse woods. The road continued on into the trees as just gravel and dirt. Jesse stared at the two-story house. Big yard, shuttered windows. Dilapidated detached garage. The place looked semi-abandoned. There was no sign of life. Natasha opened her door, but Jesse paused.

“How is this place safer, exactly?” Jesse asked. “It looks like anyone could just… waltz on over.”

“It’s more secure than it looks,” Natasha said with a roll of her eyes. “Come on.”

Jesse sighed. “At least Bucky’s place had a doorman,” she grumbled, but she clambered out with her backpack and trailed after Natasha the weedy path to the front door. Behind them, the car peeled away.

Natasha didn’t put a key in the front door. She didn’t even ring the doorbell. Instead, she lifted the whole doorbell up off the wall and pressed her fingers in rapid succession over a tiny electronic pad. Jesse stared as a red light turned green and the door whirred, clicked, and swung open.

“Welcome to your safehouse, Jesse,” Natasha intoned. She led the way inside; Jesse shut her gaping mouth and followed.

Despite the unlived-in exterior, the inside was neat. Painfully neat, to Jesse’s eye. There was a garland of fake flowers hanging in the front hall, but without any hint of dust among the leaves or on the floor.

It all reminded her of the freaky neatness of her own room when she’d been brainwashed. Did the beds in here have hospital corners? She wouldn’t be surprised.

“That’s the way up,” Natasha said, pointing towards a staircase. “Don’t open this door. It’s locked, anyway.” She patted on what Jesse assumed was the basement door.

“What’s down there?” Jesse asked.

Natasha raised her eyebrows and looked Jesse over from head to toe. “Skeletons,” she deadpanned.

“Er—right.” Jesse bared her teeth in a makeshift smile and didn’t press the issue. She could just imagine a creepy SHIELD control center, with a hidden prison and a swivel chair in a dark room, surrounded by hissing monitors…

Jesse hurried after Natasha, who circled through the ground-level rooms at a sharp clip.

“Kitchen, pantry, living room,” Natasha rattled off. “Bathroom down here is off the kitchen. There’s an enclosed porch you can use through here. The hammock is nice. Just don’t open the blinds.”

“What can I do?”

“I’ll show you to your room, and you can put your stuff away.” Natasha paused on the bottom stair and caught Jesse’s eye. “You can keep yourself busy, right?”

“Of course,” Jesse said, eyebrows raised.

“Good.” Natasha climbed up the stairs two at a time, but her steps were almost silent. Jesse felt like an elephant in comparison, but then again, did she need to step lightly here? This wasn’t Current Relief.

“And here’s your room.” Natasha pushed open a door right by the top of the stairs. “Make yourself at home. Bathroom’s right there. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.” She disappeared downstairs, leaving Jesse alone.

Jesse rubbed the back of her neck and inched into the bedroom. It was small, smaller than most bedrooms she’d seen even in the city, with just one narrow dresser and a nightstand by the full bed. She glanced to the hallway with raised eyebrows. Even her bed was bigger than that. Like at Bucky’s place, both windows were covered. In a way, the soft lighting and red bedspread felt familiar. Safe. Maybe the same person decorated both places.

But there was no art on the walls. No Cyrillic poetry, not posters. No trace of Bucky, nor anyone else.

Jesse dumped her backpack on the bed and rummaged through her clothes. Everything was wrinkled, even the jeans. She spread them across the bedspread. Her fingers lingered on the smooth pillow.

How many people had been here? Was she the first in a while, or just the latest in a long line of helpless civilians caught up in something too big for them?

She climbed onto the bed and fell on her side, exhaustion seeping over her like a wet blanket. Was this the price for knowing Bucky?

Bucky.

Jesse curled up and hugged her hollow chest. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky—she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Everything circled back to him. The bedspread, the blank walls, her own damn aching heart. How long was she going to be caught in this spiral?

She wished she’d had the guts to just tell him before Natasha had dragged her off to the middle of nowhere. This would have been a great place to sob herself to sleep over a predictable rejection. Secluded, surrounded by strangers who didn’t give a shit about her… No chance of seeing Bucky by accident.

I’m such a coward.

Jesse’s heart wrenched a muffled cry from her throat. She clamped a hand over her mouth and took quick breaths to stifle her sobs. He’d never denied her a thing, yet here she was, drowning in misery. Sure, she could dream up a scenario that ended with him holding her, smiling, his lips on hers… But that would only ever be a dream. Add in even a drop of logic, and that dream was fool’s gold.

Bucky Barnes had better things to do than be with her, and she needed to get used to it.

Jesse dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. Well, she looked like shit. Bloodshot eyes, red nose, pale mouth. The lingering bloodstain on her blue dress made her wince; was there a laundry here somewhere? She’d have to ask.

Cold water helped with her face, but she was sure Natasha would see right through it. And she was right—as soon as she made it downstairs to the kitchen, Natasha looked up from her laptop and frowned.

“Were you crying?” Natasha asked.

Jesse looked away and nodded. She slid into the seat across from Natasha and knotted her fingers together in her lap where Natasha couldn’t see. “Sorry.”

“For christ’s—” Natasha cut herself off and stilled with effort. “Jesse. You do not need to apologize. This is not a fun spot to be in. You are allowed to have feelings about that.”

Am I, though?

Feelings, sure. Today, Jesse felt like a slave to her feelings. But expressing them? With Bucky off-limits and out of reach plus her own detestation of making a fool of herself, Jesse really didn’t think she wanted to. She screwed her mouth into as much of a smile as she could muster and finally met Natasha’s eye. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Good. Anyway,” Natasha continued, clearly glad to have gotten that out of the way and already back to typing, “I want you to know what’s going to happen here. We have people contacting your place of work and the local police, and we’ll keep you posted as needed. You’ll need to stay inside at all times. Once a week, someone will do a grocery run for the house, so write down what you’ll need for yourself. And there will always be an agent on-duty here. For now, that’s me.”

“How long are you going to be here?” Jesse asked, heart sinking.

“Another agent will be coming to relieve me tomorrow.” Natasha finished typing and glanced up. Something of Jesse’s feelings must have shown on her face, because Natasha sighed and closed her laptop. “You’ll be in good hands, no need to worry.”

Jesse bit her lip. How could she help but worry? This morning, she’d been safe at Bucky’s, safe with Bucky. Then Natasha had whisked her out to the middle of nowhere, and now she was going to be stuck here with a total stranger? Not that Natasha was a friend, but at least Jesse had met her before. She had Bucky’s approval. But Jesse wasn’t sure that the associative property applied here. Sure, Bucky trusted Natasha… but that didn’t mean he’d automatically trust anyone Natasha did.

“Do you know who’s coming next?” she asked.

“Richard Rensselaer. He’s worked with SHIELD for six years. He’s competent. Not particularly sociable, but very competent,” Natasha rattled off.

“So… a guy,” Jesse said.

Natasha raised her eyebrows and folded her hands together. “We can’t just reassign people at the drop of a hat. Besides, you stayed with Bucky.”

“Yeah…” Jesse squirmed in her seat as Natasha stared her down with the intensity of a thousand suns. “But I know him!” Jesse blurted.

“Hm,” Natasha said. She opened her computer, eyes still fixed on Jesse’s, and only after some stuttered typing did she glance down. “Not for very long. He told me all this started when you met—or because of it, anyway. Tell me.”

“Well, I don’t know when it all started,” Jesse said slowly. “We met at the Stark Foundation benefit… I guess three Sundays ago?”

Natasha nodded.

“I had to cover my coworker, who broke her ankle, and Bucky asked me to dance.” The sudden memory of being caught up in his arms brought warmth to Jesse’s cheeks. She hurried on. “And then I told him where Marilyn—my coworker—was staying. I ran into him there, and, um, I told him he should come dancing. And he did.”

“Seriously? You told the Winter Soldier he should go dancing?”

“Erm, yes?”

“You have some guts,” Natasha said, impressed.

“Well,” Jesse said, cheeks hotter than ever, “I think everyone should go dancing. It beats a whole lot of other things.”

“Still,” Natasha said. “James Barnes isn’t just anyone.” A sudden grin spread on her face. “He must be good, huh?”

Jesse bit her lip and nodded. Natasha looked back to her computer, but Jesse still had the sense she was being observed.

“Then what?” Natasha asked, fingers poised on the keyboard.

“Um, he came dancing.” Jesse tucked a leg under her and waited for Natasha to glance up from her typing before she continued. “And he asked if I’d be interested in teaching with him. For my work.”

“The Brooklyn Children’s Education Initiative.”

“Yeah, although we just call it BCEI,” Jesse said. “Multisyllabic words and all.”

All in all, this was an awful lot like a meeting at work, except that for once it wasn’t Jesse taking notes. That was a relief. If she had to talk and type and eventually try not to cry… That would be too much.

“And that proposal went through, as I understand.” Natasha was typing again, her nails clicking gently against the keys in a streaming rhythm.

Jesse nodded, but didn’t elaborate. How much did Natasha already know? Her blushes had been a blunder, she realized—Natasha could read people, couldn’t she? She was a spy. That was her job. There was no taking back what she’d said, but she’d gotten distracted by pleasant memories. No more. Let Natasha take what she could get, at least as far as her relationship with Bucky was concerned.

Besides, that relationship was already established. There was no need to get into details, and Natasha surely had no interest in Jesse’s feelings. Her chief concern was information about Current Relief.

“Tell me about the first break-in.”

Jesse took a steadying breath and launched into as neutral a narrative as she could manage of the morning she’d plunged her hand in the toilet and detailed the other little clues she’d half-ignored.

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows when Jesse finished telling how her day had gone after that. “You say you ignored it, but that’s not quite true,” she said. “Bucky said you weren’t sleeping well…”

“I’m a millennial; bad sleep schedules are practically a requirement,” Jesse said snidely, but her eyes stung. If she didn’t make jokes, she knew she’d cry, and she had as much pride as any Avenger. She rubbed at her pulsing temple. Natasha shook back her red hair and pursed her lips.

“Well, that’s not true, but go on. What next?”

Jesse talked, and talked, and talked. All the while, Natasha probed for more, more—more details, more emotion, more background.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me about this Mike Fuller.”

“If they bugged your apartment, why didn’t they recognize Bucky when he came over a few days later?”

That, at last, gave Jesse pause. “I don’t know.”

“Bucky says he found multiple listening devices in your apartment. Didn’t you say hi? ‘Hi, Bucky, come in’ or something?”

“No-o,” Jesse said slowly. She bent her legs up and wound her arms around them. “I didn’t call him by name.”

Natasha stared. “Why not?”

“I don’t know!” Jesse cried. She pressed her forehead to her knee and stared cross-eyed at the crosshatched fabric of her leggings, willing her tears to stay tucked behind her eyes. Why couldn’t Natasha leave her alone? Sure, Bucky’s name rolled of her tongue like honey now, but back then it had felt like an imposition. She thought back to their first meeting. Had he even introduced himself?

No. He hadn’t.

“Moving on,” Natasha said. “Talk me through the rest.”

Jesse sighed.

—

“Bucky said you were smart,” Natasha said later, once Jesse had reached Natasha’s arrival at Bucky’s place. They were still at the kitchen table, but Natasha had gotten them both glasses of water, and the light slanted more and more through the curtains. “He was right.”

Jesse’s face burned. She couldn’t meet Natasha’s eye. “If I was smart, I probably wouldn’t have gone through all that. I would have—”

“Cut the crap,” Natasha interrupted, but she was smiling gently. “Even smart people get screwed over. All things considered, you did damn good. You saved that girl Liz, you realized something was wrong… Hell, you even got Bucky out of his comfort zone after what, meeting him twice?”

Jesse bit her lip to keep from snorting. The sniff she couldn’t help. “Alright, alright. Thank you.”

“If you don’t trust my judgment, you might as well trust his.”

Jesse’s breath caught in her throat; her eyes snapped to Natasha’s.

Natasha tilted her glass in a circle; the water sparkled from the evening sun streaming through the lace curtain over the western window. “Last week, he had some good things to say.”

Jesse bit her tongue hard to keep from asking more, but Natasha glanced up at her and nearly smirked.

“He was excited to be working on a normal project. With you,” Natasha clarified.

“Huh.” Jesse smiled ruefully and stifled a yawn. “Well, god willing we’ll be able to get back to it. Someday.”

“I’m sure,” Natasha said. She went back to typing. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” Jesse’s stomach did feel hollow, but the sudden heaviness in her limbs was more pressing. “I think I’m going to lie down.” She tried to stand, but her knees buckled. She fell heavily back into her chair and stared dimly at Natasha. This feeling… she’d felt it before. This was the same terrifying exhaustion that had come over her during her abduction! Jesse’s hand shook as she tried to push herself back up; tears sprang to her eyes as her tongue turned to ash in her mouth.

“No, no… Wha—”

“Woah, calm down,” Natasha said. She hurried over and slipped Jesse’s arm over her shoulders, guiding her to her feet. Natasha was slender and not even as tall as Jesse, but her arms were all muscle. “The sedative I gave you must be wearing off. It’s nothing to be worried about.”

Jesse had just enough energy to roll her eyes. “Shoulda told me,” she muttered. “Shoulda.”

“Coulda, shoulda, woulda,” Natasha parrotted back. She led Jesse up the stairs one step at a time. “Almost there. And hey, look on the bright side. You’ll sleep really well.”

“Hmph,” Jesse said, but the moment Natasha guided her onto the bed, she was out cold.

—

Jesse woke to a pounding on her door.

“Get up and come downstairs,” Natasha called. “I’m about to leave.”

Jesse buried her face in the pillow with a groan. Natasha leaving? Already? Jesse propped herself up on her elbow, blinking blearily. The curtains weren’t thick enough to block out all the light. The brightness peeping around their edges made Jesse blink. She stumbled to the window and peeked around the edge; her eyes stung from the bright midday sun. The curtain fell back in place the second she stepped back, blinking furiously. How long had she been asleep?

Her blue dress was more wrinkled than ever. She was growing to hate the sight of it. The bloodstain, the wrinkles, the memories… This was the dress she’d been wearing when Current Relief came after her. When she’d been stuck in the hospital, afraid of every footstep. When she’d been sitting on Bucky’s bed, his forehead against hers and his breath on her lips.

No, dammit, none of that.

Jesse shoved the thought of Bucky aside as she yanked her dress over her head and tossed it aside. Would it be wrong to just ball the damn thing up and throw it away?

Maybe not, but she had no idea when she’d get replacement clothes. For now, all she had apart from a few changes of underwear was the blue dress, the leggings she was peeling off, a single maroon shirt, and a pair of jeans.

Jeans and maroon shirt it was.

In another minute, she was heading downstairs with a hand pressed tight against the wall for support. Natasha was in the living room, talking with a man with dark hair graying at the temples. Despite his hair, he looked no older than forty.

As soon as Jesse came into view, Natasha stopped talking to the stranger and turned to Jesse. “Jesse, this is Agent Rensselaer. Richard. He’ll be here for the next week.”

“Um, hi.” Jesse’s hand twitched forward, but Richard’s hands were buried in his pockets. He regarded her with a tilted head and a serious expression.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” he said. “Hopefully we can get you home before too long.”

“Thanks.” Jesse stuffed her own hands in her back pockets.

Richard nodded once and turned back to Natasha. “Anything else, Agent Romanoff?”

“No, thank you.” Natasha zipped up her jacket and pulled her hair free from the collar. “Well, Jesse, it’s been grand. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Jesse smiled tightly. Natasha grabbed a black duffel bag from the couch and swung it over her shoulder as she headed towards Jesse and the door. Jesse opened her mouth, but she couldn’t think of anything worth saying. Natasha didn’t want to hear please stay, that much was obvious. Everything else seemed unnecessary.

But Natasha stopped inches away and wrapped her free arm around Jesse’s shoulders. “Chin up, Jesse,” she murmured.

A tear eked its way out of Jesse’s eye. “Thanks,” she whispered.

Natasha let go and stalked away, the rustling of her clothes and the sound of the door opening and closing the only indication of her progress. Once the door shut, Jesse let out a huff and turned to Richard, who took one look at Jesse’s face and gave a smile that bordered on a grimace.

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” he said. He turned on his heel and took up residence in the kitchen.

Jesse stood alone in the living room. She spun on her heel and ran upstairs. Not until her door was closed and locked did she fling herself back onto her bed and let her tears overwhelm her. This was punishment, she was sure of it. Alone with a man she didn’t know, a stranger who had no interest in getting to know her…

Oh, why couldn’t she have just stayed with Bucky?

Jesse buried her head in her pillow and let herself cry. In the solitude of her room, no one was going to stop her.

A/N: Welp, there you have it... Sorry for an utter lack of Bucky, but he’ll be back soon. Everything circles back to him, after all... And yes, Natasha’s ‘someone who lives on a farm with a tractor’ is everyone’s favorite archer <3 Gotta love Clint!

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought :3

[iammarylastar]

3. Back to the U.S.

I’m dead. After I’ve travelled more than half of the world, I’ve finally reached Washington. So much wasted time which had kept me away from Angie, more than 10 fucking months. It already took me forever to heal from my wounds and be able to walk again. Thanks to the help and good care of Mikomi.

Hope. That’s what her name meant. That’s what she gave me. That’s what helped me to stay alive, what gave me the strength to go on, along with the sweet memories of Angie’s face.

Hope is exactly what left me as I put my feet on the ground. Sacred ground of United States of America. The land that bore me. And Angie. Maybe my child if I’m lucky.

I left Mikomi and her dad, on a fishing boat heading to China. Not really, in those times of war, Japanese and Chinese were like cats and dogs. I’m already lucky I landed on that tiny island where Sensei and his people lived like in the 17th century, they even don’t have electricity. They live in their own world, far from the war.

The ship’s master kicked me out on a Chinese island in the middle of nowhere in the East China Sea, then I sailed from tiny islands to tiny islands until I reached China.

I managed to find a cargo ship heading to America. U.S.A. Read on my lips: U.S.A. My Japanese was quite decent, but my Chinese totally non-existent and I I swear when I found out I’d landed in California, I cried my eyes out. Fucking fate.

My original plan was to land somewhere on the East Coast, then ride a train, a bike or a fucking horse to Washington, where I could gather clues to find out what had happened to Angie. Or Jessie. I was even ready to face Gessepp again if he was back in the Mother land and beg him on my knees, even kiss his bloody ass to know where she lived.

I ’d rather ask the War Department which was supposed to have all the slightest information available about that damn war, all the shit about our base included.

I struggled so much to make myself understood on that Chinese pier, unable to even write U.S.A. with current letters, those damn Chinese hieroglyphs still totally unknown to me. My face lightened at the sweet and weird sound, rolling off that Asian’ s tongue:

“America? Yes, there!” OK, he didn’t really say that, but enthusiastically nodded his head, pointing at a big ship. My tired brain was so relieved and happy that it assumed the boat was heading to the East Coast. Fuck. Me.

San Francisco was beautiful though but I didn’t have time for tourism. I had to survive, find a job to have money, clothes and somewhere to sleep. I did dirty jobs, exhausting physical works; I was alternatively a beggar, a cow boy, a farm hand, a thief, whatever I could do to earn my keep. Keep going. Keep walking. Keep dreaming of Angie and my baby. I made my way across the country, heading East by foot, sometimes hitchhiking, sneaking into a freight train when I was lucky. I never rested, I never stopped, until I finally reached Washington.

Now, I’m losing my nerves at the War Dept, South East Asia sector office, biting my lips bloody as the bitch in front of me repeats her shit for the umpteenth time.

“I’m sorry, but it’s classified as…”

“ I don’t give a fuck about classified! I risked my goddamn life in Japan to save your bloody American ass, I’ve travelled the whole country by foot to be here, so just give me the fucking answer I need! Where is She?? ”

She startles as I slam violently my palm on the desk, marking each word I’m barking so I’m sure she fucking gets the point. I’m aware the whole hall turns silent and feel a thousand sets of eyes stabbing my back but I don’t care. I keep staring at her with a murderous glare, leaning half my upper body over the desk, pointing a threatening forefinger to her face.

I’ve wasted a whole week, getting sent from offices to offices, from stupid to haughty or suspicious secretaries, claiming I had no appointment, no military ID, no reason to be here.

Fuck me I have all the reasons to be here. I have one. I lost the love of my life and my survival, the only chance I get to have her back, depends on you, bitch! But all I’ve earned by now are closed doors and mouths.

Oh, I forgot, one smart ass asked me if I was a deserter, another told me that I could be stamped “fit for duty” if I couldn’t submit any evidence of a “serious injury”. I laughed so hard she almost sent me to an insane asylum.

The truth is there’s nothing to be happy about. Angelina McCarthy just doesn’t exist in their files, all that’s Colonel Gessepp related is marked secret. Mac, Louie, Phil and myself are MIA, assumés KIA, end of story.

“Sir, I’m asking you to step back and calm down or I’ll call the security guards.” The frightened bitch barely whispers, swallowing hard. Jesus I wish she would choke on her spit.

Two shadows appear behind my back and I feel defeated, I know that being thrown to jail is not the best option to get Angie back.

“OK…” I drop my head and lean my hands on the desk for a second, waiting for the weakness in my knees and the bile rising in my throat to pass.

“FUCK!” I grip and pull on my hair as I howl in frustration, kicking out the chair I was supposed to sit on.

I told you I’m dead. This is the end of the road. No hope left. I could knock at every single door across the whole country, asking for Angie, looking for her but I’m so tired. I just want to lie down on the ground, curl up like a baby and sleep for the next 50 years.

“CUP! CUUUP!” A scream. A call. A female voice. I turn around to the sound, terrified by what I’m about to face. Who I am about to face. That’s not Angie’s voice, I’m sure of it, though her voice could have changed, by dint of cries.

My sight is still blurry with tears and rage, but a woman is running towards me, calling my name out loud.

I have no choice but let the hysterical stranger jump on me, kiss my face and hug me, her face widened in shock that I was back from the dead. Which I actually am.

“Oh Jesus, Cup, is it really you?” She asks between cries, patting my cheeks and shoulders.

I know that voice. I know those hands. Stop crying on my chest so I can see your face. I gently pull the woman back to study her face. I lost some parts of my life because of the crash, but not her. Debrah.

“Step back guys. It’s OK. He’s with me.” She orders to the guards who surround us, waving her ID card that proved she works here.

“ Cup, what the fuck happened to you? We all thought you were dead.”

“Yeah, I thought it myself. But I survived. But tell me, please Deb, tell me about Angie. Is she safe? Does she live here in America?”

“Come with me. We need to talk. We need a drink. You need to know.” She states, grabbing my hand and dragging me outside.

It was a long talk. A fucking long disaster. I wish I haven’t survive just to hear this. And the dozen of cups of coffee I downed hasn’t helped me to calm my nerves.

“ We all waited for your plane to come back. Everything was ready for the wedding. Angie has been waiting for you in her wedding dress for hours. All eyes scrutinized the skies until dark. Past midnight, we lost hope. It’s been too long. You were supposed to be back around 5, and for the first hours, it was still OK. You never know how long a mission could last. The crowd started to leave but I stayed with her. And Mac and Phil’s girlfriends. Then it was done. The other pilots stated you should be lost, crashed, that at this time the plane was out of gas anyway.”

“ Two engines died, there was no chance to fly back. I don’t know what happened to the others.” I explain.

“ There must be survivors, the lifeboat was found few days later. Empty. I’m sorry Cup.”

As sad as I feel knowing that my bros were likely dead, there’s only one life I want to hear about.

“Gessepp showed up on the tarmac and dismissed everyone, yelling the party was over. He summoned Angie to go home but she didn’t budge. She has stood up there, clung to her bride’s bouquet for 3 days. She never cried.” “ She broke down the morning of the third day, dissolved in tears. Jessica came to bring her home and she has disappeared for weeks. I tried to visit her, despite my fear of the Colonel, but nobody answered at the door. Marla managed to have some news but they were so bad. As expected, she was devastated. She stopped talking, stopped eating and was just waiting to die of grief.”

As Debrah goes on speaking, I feel my chest tightening, my heart crying as bad as my eyes. Angie, my love letting herself starve, willing to die. No. Please no.

“After a month, the doc forced her to the hospital. That’s where they found out… Oh Cup, how could I tell you?” Debrah wipes her tears and grabs my hands.

“She was pregnant, wasn’t she?” I knew it from the beginning, I knew about my baby girl. Oh fuck, a month of starvation and grief should have killed them both.

“Yes, how do you know about that?” I can’t answer but try a shy smile. I felt it. I knew.

“She was so weak but the baby made it. She decided to live for that. To have your baby, so you would be alive somehow. We were just a few in the secret, she made me swear to never tell anyone.”

My face lightens at the news, but Debrah bursts into more tears and tries to speak between sobs and cries.

“ She resumed eating and gained weight back. It was hard without you but she managed to smile, laughed sometimes. She was on her second trimester when… When…”

“What? Fuck Deb, what happened?” I’m losing my mind. I know it’s bad, I know the story will end with my baby… gone but I need to hear it from her mouth.

She covers her face with her palms, leaving mines naked and cold.

“ She started to show and… Gessepp… he found out she was pregnant. He lost his shit and turned furious. It was Sunday, we were having a picnic after the office. He barged in in the meadow next to the church, totally enraged, calling her a whore and all that shit, saying you lied and fucked her before marriage. He was screaming like a damned maniac, and…” Her cries increase and she has to gasp for air before she’s able to speak again.

“He beat her up, Jesus, he couldn’t stop yelling and kicking her belly. Some guys tried to intervene and protect Angie but he threatened them to death, yelling he was a fucking Colonel and that nobody could get in his way without paying the consequences.”

Tell me about it. That’s exactly what he said to me that day he almost killed Angie at the café. And I cowardly stayed still and denied my love for her. I’m biting my lips so hard I taste my own blood.

“He even told the pastor to go fuck himself. He grasped Angie and dragged her through the meadow, leaving all the church members in shock.”

OK. I got it. Stop it there. I don’t want to hear what’s next. My jaws are clenched, my fist balled so tightly my nails are piercing my palms. But she keeps talking.

“The next day, knowing that Gessepp had a meeting with the Defense Staff, we went to his home. Jess opened the door, she’s been beaten up too. We brought them both to the Army hospital, begging the docs to keep them safe from him. But at night, he arrived, enraged like a bull, hit some nurses and tried to choke Angie. It took 3 docs to snatch Angie from his claws and finally a nurse stabbed a hypo in his thigh which knlcked him out for a while.”

Hearing that motherfucker was out comforts me just a bit. I would have given anything to be there and finish him off. But I’m still worried to death about Angie. And Jessie. And little Abi.

“What happened next nearly blow up the whole base. The case got back to the top of Gessepp’s hierarchy. The docs testified, Angie and Jess testified, we all did. Gessepp couldn’t remain unpunished for what he’s done. He got arrested and impeached for his indecent behaviour, ashamed and kicked out of the Corps of the Army. All of us who testified were held incommunicado and offered a job at home, that’s how I ended up in Washington.”

Jesus. I’ve held my breath for too long. I need a break, I need a drink, but above all I need to know more about Angie. I rub my face vigorously, then scratch my beard, giving Debrah some time to gather herself.

“And the baby?” I whisper.

“Cup, honey, I’m so sorry. I don’t know. Angie and Jess left within the week. Back to the States, but nobody knows where exactly, to keep them safe from Gessepp. All I know is that she had to stay in hospital, she suffered bad bleeding… Oh Cup don’t hate me for telling you all that.”

“The military Court suggested Jessica to ask for divorce and the full custody of Abigail, which she accepted. They provided adequate resources for her and Abi, for damages and official apologizes for letting Gessepp act with complete impunity for too long. Me and the girls at the office made false certificates so Angie could benefit widow’s pension, making sure she would be free for rant.”

Jesus all that shit makes me want to puck out.

“Think Cup, think. I’m sure she’s somewhere waiting for you. You guys are made for each other. We became close friends after you… vanished. She talked to me. She loves you Cup, she’ll never stop, baby or not.”

I shake my head no and drop it between my hands. I’m too devastated to think, too tired to keep hope.

Debrah moves to sit next to me and gently grabs my chin and lifts it up to search my gaze.

“Honey, I know what’s like to be crazy about you. I was not the one for you, but Angie is your soulmate. You know it. Promise me to find her.”

I finally look up at her, we dated for a while when she worked in the base. She was pretty disappointed when I broke up for another chick. I now realize what prick I’d been.

“I’m sorry Deb. Sorry if I hurt you.”

“Nah it’s good. I found a good guy to forget you. I got married last year.” She smiles heartily. “ You deserve to be happy. With her. You know her by heart. If you were her, where would you settle down? Did she have any family? Friends? Relatives?”

“No. Nobody. She had just Jessie and Abi. And me.”

Poor me. I’ve never felt so alone. You know, like the entire world thinks you’re dead and you’re not but you have no chance to spread the news. Debrah is basically the only human being who knows about me. And that’s freaking terrifying. My fingers are fidgeting on their own, rubbing circles on the tattoo on my wrist. Mikomi. Hope. I swore I wouldn’t give up, so think Cup, think.

“Did you plan to live somewhere? I’m pretty sure you talked about what you’d want to do when the war ends.”

I stiffen, yes we did talk about it. Our dreams, on our first date.

She wanted to be a teacher. I planned to go back home, to take over the family business. The farm where I grew up.

Fuck me. I jump out of my chair, ready to sprint my final stretch.

I’m back, Alabama.

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