#V: All they found were her dogtags

[honeycombwerewolfe]

Since Cam's death, does it help having Charlie around or would you rather not see her?

It takes her a moment to respond, no readable response in her hollow expression. Her voice was little more than a whisper when she did manage it. "I don't want...to lose her - " as well.

[killerkai33]

warnings: nothing really. Kinda sad is all. Oh and unedited and not necessarily super Canon.

     V's life had quickly became a whirlwind of chaos in the past few months. She lost her only friend, died, resurrected, and gained a brain parasite that tried to beat the shit out of her. A hot parasite at that, he was a total dickhead but she would be lying if she said that she wasn't attached to him.

     Thanks to Johnny literally being in her head, the two shared a bond that no one else could. They knew each other inside and out, and had gotten out of the stage of their time together in which they both felt the urge to kill each other. You might even say that V trusted Johnny now, their little trip to the hotel and his burial site had brought them closer together.

     As she sat in Johnny's old Porsche, the dogtags he gave her clutched between her fingers, she thought back to what he said at the hotel. He said he would voluntarily be wiped if it was necessary for her to live, V still hadn't fully processed that. She didn't want Johnny to die, especially not for her. He said that he wanted Smasher dead at the very least, she planned on doing everything in her power to give him the revenge he sought. Against both Smasher and Arasaka, one thing she and Johnny had in common was their hate for Corps.

     "Hey, Johnny," V's voice was unusually timid as she spoke out loud. Since she was in her vehicle she felt no need to communicate with him silently, this made the conversation feel more natural. She didn't take her eyes off the windshield when she heard the familiar glitches that signaled his presence, even though the car was not moving and they were sat in the middle of the badlands. A place Johnny wasn't overly fond of.

     If the man was good at one thing, it was complaining.

    He grumbled a response and waited for her to speak. "You asked me a few favors over our time together..." V felt the annoyance radiate off of him as she said this. He was most likely expecting her to want something impossible in return. "Well, I have one for you too," she took a deep breath, " When...if... we don't fix this- Fix me- will you visit Jackie for me? I know you didn't really know him, but besides you he's the person I was closest to. Maybe, you could check on Mama Welles sometimes too, to make sure she's doing okay without Jackie. You don't have to talk to her or anything, just-," V's mindless rambling was interrupted suddenly by Johnny.

     "No."

     V was admittedly surprised but before she could even think about saying something Johnny continued speaking. "No, we are not doing this V. I won't promise to do that because we're going to fix this, okay? You're going to be okay." The tone he spoke in left little room for arguing. That was the thing about Johnny, he had this way of speaking that could make you believe anything he said and give him whatever he wanted. Most people find that out the hard way.

     A weak chuckle escaped her, "Yea, I hope so. We both know its a very real possibility that we don't though J, that I'm gonna die," it was a shitty thing to accept but it was true. There was no guarantee that V could be saved, despite their best efforts. " Look, just in case. Please? Even if you don't say you will, just store it away in that brain of yours." This argument persisted for several minutes before V sighed as Johnny's annoyance was on the verge of exploding into anger.

     She had a feeling it was stronger for him than it was for her, but she could pick up light traces of his emotions through the connection. Though she didn't need that to know what he was feeling at the moment. She thought back to the first time she willingly allowed him to control their body. She didn't completely trust him at the time, but she was tired. Tired of dealing with the episodes caused by the relic and everything else going on around her.

     He had technically lied to her, seeing as he did much more than talk to Rogue, but she didn't comment on it. He needed that night, even if he doesn't realize it or won't admit it. He needed to feel in control of himself for once.

    To feel like a person again.

     "I'm fucking scared Johnny," V's voice was practically a whisper at this point. It was true, she was terrified. Not of Johnny gaining her body, or even dying. She was scared of losing Johnny, she didn't want to be the reason he was wiped. After all this time, he deserved a second chance, even at the cost of her own life. He wouldn't allow that, not wanting to be like Arasaka and though he wouldn't admit it he didn't want to be the one to kill the only person who didn't hate his guts.

     "I know," his voice was raspy and, for once, not completely monotone. There was an ache that could be heard, but more surprisingly, there was hope. He was going to do everything he could to save her. V gasped in surprise as she felt herself be lifted, it was difficult to maneuver but she assisted where she could and eventually found herself in Johnny's lap. They sat chest to chest and  their eyes met, they stared at each other for a moment before V realized something. This was the safest she had felt in her entire life.

     She didn't feel like this with anyone else she had ever met. V went limp, seemingly collapsing into Johnny's chest as she buried her head into his chest. After a moments hesitation, his arms wrapped around her and clutched her firmly. "You ain't going no where, got it? I got you Princess," Johnny held her tighter. She was reminded of the night she passed out in the parking lot, she thought she was dying. Johnny must have caught on to her thoughts that night and said something similar.

     This was all very put of character for Johnny, but something about V made it impossible for him not to comfort her. Of course, he would later realize that this is what it feels like to care for some one. He liked Rogue and Alt, but it wasn't like this. He and V have been connected in more intimate ways than anyone he was with, even if it wasn't necessarily by choice. When he was alive it always felt like it was him against the world. With V around, he felt like he had someone wholeheartedly on his side for once.

     The thing about living in Night City is that its a lonely life, they were all the other had now. Neither had any intentions of letting each other go, they were stuck with each other now.

     V felt Johnny press a light kiss on her head, so light she almost didn't feel it. "I'm going to fix it. I promise V, you're going to get through this. Ill make sure of it, no matter what I have to do." They stayed there for hours that night, just holding each other.

     Johnny kept his promise, V survived no matter the cost he had to pay. Her eyes were almost burning a hole through the stupid piece of tin she was staring at.

                            J.S. 2023

          It wasn't supposed to end like this. They were both supposed to get out of this alive. She grit her teeth before slipping the jacket she wore off her shoulders. The red Samurai logo staring back at her, taunting her. She set it on the metal, beside of the inscription she had made what felt like centuries ago.

     She lit the cigarette that had been dangling from her mouth before setting an unlit one on the grave in front of her. V stayed there until the filter of the cigarette was in danger of burning and put it out on the concrete. "See ya soon, J."

     V made two promises to herself that night.

     First of all, she was going to live. No matter what, Johnny gave everything to make sure she didn't die and that wasn't something to be wasted.

     Second, she was going to make living hell for any corpo bitch she came across. For Johnny.

[the-ipre]

@ anyone wondering what i’m talking about when i mention the defiance: meet the crew! marlo (blue hair, eye scar, he/him) is @leenik-matagot‘s, nova (tall, blue, wings, she/he/they) is @not-from-the-absence-of-violence‘s, dash (brown haired human, he/him) is @drowninginstarlights‘s, and cres (purple, head tentacles she/they) is mine! they’re the crew of the defiance and have a punk rebel band, and also a truly tremendous amount of found family. they’re friends, they’re family, they hold onto each other despite it all. we’ve written well over 100k words of fic for them. this baby’s got Lore

(the first comic is of a bad end au. marlo and cres always promised that they were the only ones allowed to kill each other, and, well. marlo follows through on that promise. this end sure can bad! it’s not canon tho, just good art <3)

[id: ten digitally drawn pictures of the crew of the Defiance. Marlo is a tan human man with short blue hair and a severe scar through one eye. His chest and arm hair are also dyed blue, and he has the words “Fuck the Empire” tattooed across his top surgery scars. Nova is a tall blue S'kytri person with feathered wings and curly red hair in an undercut and small ponytail. Dash is a light skinned human with short brown hair and top surgery scars. Cres is a purple nautolan with piercings and gold bands on their tentacles, a scar across their nose, and large magenta eyes. They have a digitigrade prosthetic left leg. Descriptions of each picture are below the cut because it gets long.

Image 1: A comic page with lyrics from “I will follow you into the dark”. Written above the first panel is “Love of mine”, and it shows the lower half of Marlo’s face grimacing, with Cres behind him, shoulders hunched and worried. Written above the second panel is “Someday you will die”, and it shows Marlo and Cres’s torsos in parallel as Marlo pulls them close to drive his red lightsaber through her stomach, one of her hands extended in shock and one tight in his shirt. Written above the third panel is “But I’ll be close behind”, and it shows Nova illuminated in a red glow, glaring with their sword in front of their face and wings extended. Written above the fourth panel is “to follow you”, and it shows Marlo and Cres’s hands reaching out towards each other on the ground, index fingers barely linked. Below it are the words “into the dark”.

Image 2: Nova, wearing a cropped black top, short black and red shorts, and tall black and red platform boots. She is singing into a microphone and has the aromantic flag held in one hand, and the background is green.

Image 3: Marlo and Cres standing next to each other, Marlo’s arm over Cres’s shoulder and one of her tentacles wrapped around it. Marlo is wearing a low v necked tan shirt and brown pants, and Cres is wearing a gray vest and high waisted maroon pants. The background is pink.

Image 4: Cres, wearing a gray and pink vest, a fingerless glove on her left hand, and high waisted maroon pants. A knife on her thigh, the glove, her prosthetic leg, her scar, and all her piercings, are lined with gold. The word “defy” is tattooed across the knuckles of their right hand, held up in front of their eye, and the word “DEFY” is written behind her head. Written next to her prosthetic are the words “we’re going to change the galaxy”. The background is mauve.

Image 5: Dash, wearing a sheer topped rainbow skirted dress, with a slit up to his thigh for a gun. The sleeves flare, and he has a tall heeled boot. He is wearing makeup, gold bangles, and there is a purple bass tattooed on his collarbone and the words “no one left behind” under his top surgery scars. One hand holds the edge of his skirt and the other is against his chest, and he looks off to the side. The background is purple.

Image 6: A polaroid-esque drawing of Dash and Cres. Dash is wearing bold red and white makeup and is blurry in the bottom corner, and Cres is smiling behind them. There is a pink stage light in the background, and written on the bottom is “Victory tour!!” in red with purple stars drawn around it.

Image 7: Nova, wearing a sleeveless red hoodie over a black sports bra, black and red shorts, and tall black and red boots. He is standing in front of a brick wall with a yellow circle painted onto it that looks like a halo, and looks off to the side with one foot propped up.

Image 8: Marlo after the war, with a low cut tan shirt, brown pants, dogtags around his neck and a purple lightsaber in hand. He has a dagger tattooed on his forearm and has one hand raised in a wave, showing off his wedding band. The background is purple.

Image 9: Nova as a human knight with dark tan skin, wearing silver armor with red straps over a dark chain shirt and dark pants. They are kneeling with their sword braced against the ground, looking up with a smug expression, and there are small blue wings drawn above her shoulders. The background is blue.

Image 10: Dash, wearing a blue jacket over a partially undone white shirt and brown pants. He is covered in hickies and lipstick marks, using one arm to lean against a wall and one raised under the words “You should see the other guy ;)”. The background is pink /end id]

[demonofthechili]

Johnny Silverhand x OC - Dogtags

A/N: A thing I wrote a bit ago that's super soft! Separated!Johnny do be straight vibing, I don't make the rules. Fuck canon, Johnny and V got separated are roommates.

T/W: Cigarettes, Johnny being soft, the use of Hunter's real name...honestly just expect very little plot besides soft.

---

Perched on the edge of his bed, Johnny drew in a deep, thoughtful drag of his cigarette; eyes, bare from their usual red tint, focused onto his record player and the neatly stacked records beside it. He considered calling Kerry, checking in on his good choom and when they were next in-studio to record, but something kept him planted where he sat.

The warmth beside him, stretched out, was no Alt. She never would be Alt. She was in an entire different league to Alt - but that was perfectly okay. She didn't need to be Alt, for she was just... Susie. Attractive, funny, capable, everything that drew him in.

Or maybe the time spent in V's head had swirled his interests, tamed them.

No longer was it just about sex. Susie wasn't an object for him to use and abuse, something he could toss aside when bored. If there's one thing V definitely taught him, it was to cherish those around you. He had been a fucking asshole in the past, but with this second lease of life? Mistakes weren't so much as thought of.

Maybe it wasn't Kerry he was considering in that moment, but some ounce of denial, of his past self, trying to dismiss the situation. To not get attached, to be the same dickhead who'd leave her in the dust and feign disinterest.

Stirred from his thoughts, his brown eyes flickered down to see a metallic hand gently pat his chest before curling around his dogtags. He smiled knowingly as she pulled, and he happily allowed himself to be guided down to where she lay, effectively hovering over her upper torso.

"Can I have a drag?"

Oh, how her soft utterances never ceased to get him going.

"Since you asked so nicely," He granted, not at all masking the smugness in his tone.

He brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a deep drag before attaching his lips to hers; her lips instinctually parted, welcoming the exchange of smoke with a soft whine of desire. Of wanting more. Christ, how such a simple act was so Goddamn attractive to her was a mystery. An embarrassing one.

"Thank you," Muttered as her grip around his tags tightened and he pulled away, pleading gaze meeting his, even if she didn't entirely know how she looked.

Wordlessly, he closed the gap once again, this time gracing her with a standard kiss. She eagerly returned the exchange, eyes fluttering closed, and Johnny set his cigarette to idly burn aside as both hands flew to her hips, gliding up beneath her shirt - - she giggled.

"The chrome always takes me off guard," She explained in response to his confusion, her own metallic hand moving to place itself atop his, "Sorry."

There was nothing to apologise for. Johnny found it cute, how she reacted. No matter how many times went by, this was a pure moment, a moment that had his heart light in his chest and stomach fluttering with warmth.

His hand gently pushed hers up so that he could intertwine their fingers, raising her arm up and over her head, "There. Problem solved."

"But my other hand is lonely," To prove her point, a set of fingers carded through his hair.

Giving a small, closed mouth chuckle, he reached up with his remaining free arm and slid his hand into hers, rings chilling her briefly before he placed that above her head as well.

"Is that all?"

"I think so," She nodded, eyes fixated onto his features, "Except you're not kissing me."

[aband0ned-s0uls]

A Like V - Chapter 2

Read below, or on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28426680/chapters/69670191#workskin

It was like deja vu, sitting in the backstage of a seedy bar, cigarette in hand, impatiently waiting for the band playing before them to finish their set.

Except this time, Johnny was impatient for a different reason. All of Samurai's previous gigs, Johnny had been impatient to get on stage and shred the fuck out of his guitar. To spread his message of vitriol for the corpo scum, to lose himself in the music, and then lose himself in whatever hot young output made their way backstage afterwards asking for an autograph from Silverhand himself. Johnny was always happy to oblige, a carefully balanced slurry of uppers and downers – a well practiced formula – ensuring his impressive cock wouldn't let him down when he was otherwise obliterated.

Shit, he didn't even remember their names, or faces. He had never cared; they were only ever a distraction, an itch that scratched at the never ending urge to feed his ego.

Except now, there was one face that was burned in his mind, etched across his retinas everytime he closed his eyes, that he couldn't forget, that he didn't want to forget.

V...

The woman who drove him fuckin' mad. The woman who's head he'd been trapped inside, who he'd grown to know inside and out, every thought, every feeling. The woman who's raucous laugh made him secretly beam with pride when he coaxed it out with a filthy innuendo, or ridiculous quip. The woman who he admired for never giving in to his stupid shit, who would glady give him a vicious fuckin' earful, tell him he was a being a selfish prick.

The woman who had smiles reserved just for him. Johnny Silverhand, who had never cared before whether he saw a woman again or not after he'd got what he wanted, or give a flyin' fuck about how they felt, had spent more time than he would ever admit to anyone thinking of ways to get the corners of V's round, full lips to upturn.

He had memorised V's face in it's entirety; every line, every freckle, every expression. The way her left eyebrow would arch when she was about to tell someone exactly how she felt about the stupid shit that was coming out of their mouth.

The way her eyes would sparkle with mischief when she told a dirty joke. The way they would turn from grey-blue to turquoise when they were swollen with tears after she'd angry cried. The way the light danced across their surface as she laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, ruminating on the day's events, while Johnny pretended not to watch her.

V, the woman who was on the other side of the very building he was currently sat in, metres away, who thought he was still dead, his soul trapped in cyberspace forever.

His stomach twisted in knots and the ache in his chest returned as he wondered what expression she'd give him when he made his grand entrance.

What he'd said to her in the cyberspace, their happy ending... Would she want it? Johnny had always been arrogant and impulsive, only making decisions based on whether it would be beneficial for him alone, but now he found himself caring more about what V wanted.

And the ultimate question that burned in the back of his mind, could he give her that happy ending? It was true, he had changed, but an old thought whispered through his mind that he hadn't let escape from it's box for a very long time.

Was he good enough? Did he deserve a happy ending?

Shit... Johnny shook his head, ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He finished the last half of his cigarette in one long drag, and stubbed it out underneath his boot. He felt like a fuckin' gonk.

He tried to reassure himself that Panam and the Aldecaldos wouldn't have agreed with and gone through a fuckin' insane stealth op during the initial chaos after V solo'd her way through the tower, to have Alt upload his engram to another chip, rescue his chryogenically frozen corpse from 'Saka's frozen meat library, all funded by Kerry and aided by Rogue, if V hadn't been a goddamn mess without him.

Instead of that thought reassuring him, all it did was fill him with guilt.

Fuckin' hell V, how bad did I fuck you up?

His broodings brought him back to the memory of waking up with the worst headache of his life, in a cot in the Aldecaldo camp.

To Panam glaring at him, arms crossed defensively against her chest.

Telling him that they did this for V, not him.

Panam telling him in no uncertain terms that if he used this chance at life to hurt V, she would personally remove his chip and stick it up his ass, making sure he really died this time. Then she'd cut off his cajones, just for good measure, and hang them from the bumper of her Thornton.

Mitch and Saul mirroring her pose at her side, probably trying to add some more muscle to her threat, but Johnny had experienced enough of Panam's wrath through V's eyes. He knew for a fact that the firey nomad would follow through through on her promise.

He smirked as the mental image of Panam enacting her promise flitted through his mind.

When the music stopped and the band before them exited the stage, he found himself glad to be able to busy himself with people watching. His waiting wasn't over yet though. The metal fingers of his bionic arm tapping aimlessly, impatiently, along the metal sideboard he was sat against.

He was hoping that Nancy or Denny, or hell even Kerry, would come and save him from the chaos of thoughts that wouldn't stop swirling around his head, like they had when he'd spent the latter stages of his recovery at Kerry's, drinking, smoking and reminiscing.

He knew they were busy, so he let his mind wander on the same train of thought over to more pleasant memories, reliving their reunion at Kerry's. Their disbelief at having their old friend back, and how easy it was to settle back into the same easy flow as it was before. Except this time, there was less tension. The years had eaten away at any grudges or petty arguments, and he was grateful that even if he was still stuck in this cesspit of a city, that some things hadn't changed.

Until he'd pointed out Denny's gray hairs, and the smart of Denny's slap on the back of his head made him roar with laughter.

Johnny looked up from his lounging positon as he heard Kerry barrel through the doors, and walk over to him. It was still weird, still novel, seeing his old friend from his own eyes. Kerry had changed so much, but Johnny would know his presence anywhere.

He instinctively lit another cigarette as he watched Kerry perform his restless pre-gig stretch routine. Johnny let out a low chuckle at the familiarity of it all.

"Everythin' ready to go?" Kerry asked.

Johnny took another drag. "Ready to rock and fuckin' roll."

Kerry looked down at him, his expression a mixture of amusement and empathy. He smiled wide and smacked Johnny on the shoulder.

"She's gonna fuckin' love it, Johnny. Now stop brooding, lets' go knock her dead."

Johnny scoffed and looked away, rolling his eyes, like a school boy being chastised.

"Of course she will, I'm Johnny fuckin' Silverhand." He lifted his arms up and wide, speaking around his cigarette. "What's not to love?"

Kerry laughed, Nancy catching the tail-end of the conversation as she entered from the door to the stage.

Hand on hip, she stood in front of them.

"Are we sticking to the plan, or are you gonna go 'old Johnny' and do your own thing on us?"

Johnny laughed, bringing his feet down and planting them on the floor, resting his forearms on his knees.

"Chill Nance, I know the drill." He took another long slow drag of his cigarette, smirking as he remembered some of his antics at previous Samurai shows, stealing the show with a perfectly executed guitar solo. Nevermind that it was never at the agreed time, much to his former bandmates' chagrin.

Nancy raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him. Johnny leaned back and crossed his hands behind his neck.

"You guys start out with Chippin' In. Last chorus of A Like Supreme, I come out for the solo." Nancy's eyebrows lowered, but her hand remained firmly planted on her hip. "C'mon Nance, I'm sober for Christ's sake. Ain't skezzed, like old times."

Although, with the fury of nerves rising in his stomach, Johnny almost wished he was.

"Watchin' you, Silverhand." She said as she headed back out on stage. He caught the slight tilt of her mouth as she turned. His smirk widened. Kerry gave him one last smile and a nod before following after her.

What felt like an eternity later, Johnny heard Chippin' In begin. He rose out of his chair, and headed straight for the bottle of the tequila he'd spied earlier, tucked away behind the side of some boxes.

His mind turned to V again as he popped the top off and took a swig.

He wondered if she still looked the same, if she'd be hiding away in a booth, or standing amongst the crowd. If she was still wearing his dogtags, hand worrying them as though they'd dissapear.

He wondered about a lot of things, but Johnny wouldn't have to wonder for long.

"See you soon, Samurai."

[amneris-hermione-violet]

A Song for Logan/Rogue

My all-time favorite example of a song with perfect lyrics predicting a ship with eerie precision: “A Stroke of Luck” by Garbage (1995) and Logan/Rogue in X-Men (2000). Lyrics and analysis of the first part under the cut. Major movie sp*ilers. I’ll continue with more analysis in another post.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScNTxkT8e0k

“Hanging by threads of palest silver I could have stayed that way forever Bad blood and ghosts wrapped tight around me Nothing could ever seem to touch me I lose what I love most Did you know I was lost until you found me?

A stroke of luck or a gift from god? The hand of fate or devil's claws? From below or saints above You came to me Here comes the cold again I feel it closing in It's falling down and all around me, falling

You say that you'll be there to catch me Or will you only try to trap me? These are the rules I make Our chains were meant to break, you'll never change me

Here comes the cold again I feel it closing in You're falling down and all around me, falling Stroke of luck or a gift from god? Hand of fate or devil's claws? From below or saints above, you come to me now

Don't ask me why Don't even try

A stroke of luck or a gift from god? The hand of fate or devil's claws? From below or saints above You came to me Here comes the cold again I feel it closing in It's falling down and all around me, falling.”

“Hanging by threads of palest silver” = Rogue’s hair at the end, or the chain to Logan’s dogtags, or the liquid adamantium in the tank

“I could have stayed that way forever” = both Logan and Rogue feeling stuck in their circumstances

“Bad blood and ghosts wrapped tight around me” = Logan’s nightmares, or Rogue’s memories of the people she’s absorbed

“Nothing could ever seem to touch me” = obviously Rogue’s inability to touch anyone safely, but also the emotional walls they both put up

“I lose what I love most” = Rogue’s first kiss was also her first traumatic experience, or the way Logan tried to protect Rogue but accidentally stabbed her, or the way Rogue thought she hurt Logan when she absorbed his healing power, or the kidnapping at the end, or Logan thinking Rogue was dead at the end

“Did you know I was lost until you found me?” = obviously the way they physically found each other at the beginning, but also the relationship (of friendship at the very least) they found with each other 

“A stroke of luck or a gift from god? The hand of fate or devil's claws?” = Logan’s claws, could this be any more obvious? also Logan thinks badly of himself, but he’s actually a good person

[honeycombwerewolfe]

Happy anniversary on the death of your son mommy Wolfe 😘

Well, it's not as if the comment made the day any worse, exactly. A whole year...it didn't feel like it.

[honeycombwerewolfe]

After years of nightmares where some stranger would come and tell them that you'd died, how do you think your kids took to actually being told you'd died?

"...I have the pleasure...of knowing the answer, now don't I?"

Was her response a bit sarcastic and bitter: yes. A bit self pitying even? Absolutely.

[honeycombwerewolfe]

An Impossible Question

Bernie took a hesitant step towards Serena, eyes diverted down. Her mouth opened, stalling uselessly a moment until she managed words to fill it. “Serena..." Bernie stopped. It was a selfish question. Would do neither of them any good.  @bisexualsurgeonextraordinaire

[honeycombwerewolfe]

They’re a 10 but they’re a flight risk because they literally can’t leave the house without getting blown up

"Is...is that supposed to be funny?"

[honeycombwerewolfe]

It filled Serena with a bitter sadness, knowing their positions had been reversed. That Bernie had to go through what she was going through. But Serena would do her best to be there for Bernie, just like Bernie had been there for her.

“Bernie?” Serena called out, returning home from a trip to the shops.

Her eyes looked harrowed these days, frame thinner than it should be. Apart from that, she could manage pulling together simple outfits, gentle smiles...she could manage. She kept busy: with the house, with Charlie, with the minutia of scheduling meetings with possible wedding venues. Anything. But every so often, in the agonizingly quiet moments in-between, reality would impose itself again.

Today's moment was prompted by the unfortunate decision to listen to the radio while she scrubbed the kitchen clean. Said task was left unfinished, bucket of murky water left to settle beside the crumbled woman, knuckles white and skin flushed from gripping herself through violent tears, face contorted with pain and the effort of holding back the sound of it. She heard the lock and Serena following it but could not break from the despair to react let alone respond.

[honeycombwerewolfe]

They’d been sitting on the couch for a while, with nothing but the sound of a crackling fire to fill the quiet. Serena had been watching the flames, trying to quiet her mind. But instead, all thoughts led to Bernie. Turning her head, Serena watched Bernie for a while before breaking the silence with her voice. “May I ask you a question?” (Post cam death verse)

The sound of Serena's voice pulled Bernie's mind back from the fog and she pulled her head up from Serena's shoulder. There was curiosity in her somber eyes, bags beneath more stark these days. It was both an unspoken question and permission granted.

[honeycombwerewolfe]

Horrifying nightmare ask- both you AND Serena were in Cams explosion except… Cam survived whilst Serena ended up motionless under a collapsed roof because you chose to save your murderous son first.

She'd thought they had time...been certain she could get them both out. Serena was right behind. Bernie just wanted to get him through alright...a horrid feeling in her gut telling her she had to get him out now or the worst would happen. She'd never intended...never thought. "SERENA!" It felt like someone else had screamed it, the tone haunting. Her grip on Cameron tightened, half pulling him near, half keeping Bernie on her feet. No. "This isn't right..." She looked between the wreckage and Cam a few times before pulling herself up, one hand braced on Cam's shoulder and the other holding the side of his neck near his jaw. She could feel tears running down her cheeks. "I love you Cam...so, so much. I need you to know that." He stared back at her, no readable emotion to be found. His eyes were cold and a part of her was scared seeing it. It was like seeing someone who looked like Cam and yet...was someone, something...other. "I'm sorry." She released Cam, turning back and starting to dig Serena out. She had to be alive. It shouldn't be Serena. It wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to be Serena. She woke up, still crying heavily, face and pillow drenched in tears.

[honeycombwerewolfe]

The First Dance

They’d never officially planned out a “Couple’s First Dance as a Married Couple” thing. Serena had known how uncomfortable Bernie would be dancing in front of everyone like that and Bernie had kept her input on wedding things to a minimum...each one a very stern not to be negotiated detail but still...a minimum. (Not that her requests were placed very sternly to Serena.)

Once the reception rolled around and there was a break between speeches and such as people ate and talked at their tables...Bernie pushed her seat back and stood. Turning to look at her...her wife, Bernie still had butterflies in her stomach over the thought, she reached out a hand with an adoring grin.

[honeycombwerewolfe]

Love Enduring

There really was nothing quite like a near death experience to make a person evaluate their life choices. Bernie should know, she's had a few. She also had a very long time to think about things: three hundred and ninety three days to be precise. Three hundred and ninety two days to plan nearly as many ways she would make things right...if she ever got the chance. When the chance finally came, Bernie took the first flight she could and found herself on the side of the road, cab door still held open, as she stared at a daunting For Sale sign staked in Serena’s front yard. Everything quieted as Bernie struggled to breathe. It took a moment to collect herself. It would be fine, she could still salvage this. No phone with saved contacts...all her belongings either sold, tossed out or God knows if her kids had bothered to keep any of it. They certainly wouldn’t have kept her address book. Fine. There was always another solution to a problem if you looked hard enough. Back in the cab, she told the driver to take her back to her hotel. Email. Thank God for email. When she logged in to type an email she had no idea how to compose...she found something unexpected.

Love letters: months worth. Bernie sat and picked through them word by word from beyond her own grave. The pain and the confessions made clear in Serena’s words....Bernie clasped her hand over her mouth to catch a sob as she kept reading through tears. Her heart ached for Serena, for the time together they’d both been robbed of, for the pain they’d both been through. All she wanted as she sobbed on the floor of her dark hotel room was for the same thing she’d been wanting for over a year now: for this past year to have never happened and to be with Serena now...to have her there to stroke her hair back with calming words whispered over Bernie’s cheek...to hold Bernie when exhaustion dragged at every muscle. Exhaustion. Bernie felt it in swollen eyes and complaining joints the next morning. It took four fingers of whiskey and an hour before she finally managed to hit send on the email. ______________________ To: Serena Campbell Subject: Fraulein  Hello Stranger. I don’t know where to start. I read your emails and I’m so sorry Serena, for not fighting harder for us, for not coming back, for this whole bloody mess. I’m sorry. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I haven’t thought about you. Something happened in Mogadishu and it’s the root of all this. I promise I’ll explain. I don’t have my cellphone but you can reach me at the Hilgram, ring room 245. ______________________ It took only seconds for the responding email saying it could not be delivered because the email was no longer in use.  A bit longer to get herself back together and send out a different email. Jason: would tell Serena himself...in maybe not the way she most needed. Rick: that big mouth? No. In the end, there really was only one person: one person close enough to Serena, level headed and responsible enough to give Bernie the chance to tell people herself, in person. Henrik. At long last, Bernie found her way to where she needed to be. Turns out that where was a villa in Spain. Setting her roller luggage aside, she rang the bell and waited. She held her hands together tightly, afraid her heart beat surely had her trembling.

@bisexualsurgeonextraordinaire

[honeycombwerewolfe]

Charlotte would probably try to blow you up too to be honest. You should have seen her when she thought you were dead. She had no tune but she could still belt out 'ding dong the witch is dead' like a champion.

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