#a ghost detective is a bit tight on cash at the end of the day and sleeps on the floor/outside a lot lol

[midnightwind]

I’ve been staring at these (and a third triple line up that I literally only have the poses for) for like a few months so have some WIPs of Nik in fancy wear and my phantom rogue Lucian’s general get up (kindofsorta I’m playing with ideas still)

I keep waffling on Nik’s outfit because I want it to be thinner and more flowing, but can’t get it in that nice mid ground of feminine but not straight up a dress, ya feel?

[one-boring-person]

Hey again! I know I just asked for one and I don’t wanna be bothersome, but I saw that Raymond Tango is on your list and I was hoping I could get an imagine with him and maybe Gabriel Cash as well?

Something like the reader works at the prison where they end up and helps them out when they’re jumped? Or whatever scenario you can think of 😁 Please add a lot of flirting if you can

I actually watched Tango and Cash and the Expendables because of your imagines 😆 And I’ll probably keep discovering more awesome movies thanks to you!

I also had an idea for Rambo where the fireworks on the 4th of July trigger his ptsd and the reader is there to comfort him? (It was Canada Day today so there were fireworks in my hometown to celebrate and I got the idea for it 🤷🏼‍♀️)

Thank you so very much!!! 💕

I'm really sorry for the wait, but I hope you like this!😊❤

Tip-Off.

Ray Tango x reader x Gabe Cash (Tango and Cash)

Warnings: injury, swearing, mention of violence, mention of gun use

Masterlist

Finally, I manage to fling the door open, the thick metal clanging loudly as it slams against the wall, announcing my arrival to the room behind it. Gritting my teeth, I crash through it, yelling out to the inmates I know are gathered there, my standard handgun held at the ready. I hate to use it, but I know very well that many of the people turning to face me won't move unless threatened by something a little more dangerous. 

The room is lit with a drab light, keeping most of the thugs' faces cast in shadow as they turn towards me, shouts of surprise and panic filling the air. As if startled by a ghost, the lot of them suddenly retreat into the darkness, doors banging open and shut around the perimeter, many of them cursing loudly as they clear out. Frowning, I move further into the room, shouting at them hoarsely, my head rotating quickly to make sure I'm not being ambushed by any of them. Thankfully or not, they disappear quickly, leaving me alone in the deserted area with two familiar people hanging by their necks from the ceiling above large troughs of water. Upon closer inspection, I notice that the water is electrified, a sparking cable lying a metre or so away. 

"Hey, hey, what's going on?! Don't just leave us hanging here, kill us or let us down! You shitbrains!" I groan in realisation as I notice exactly who is hanging from the ceiling, the two captives facing away from me.

"Are those my only options, or would you rather I tried to get you down?" I call out to the only one of them who is actually moving, walking round to face them.

"Huh? Who're you?" It's Raymond Tango, the one still writhing on his hook. His partner, Gabriel Cash, hangs listlessly, head drooped, blood dripping from his lip.

"The reason you're still alive." I frown, tapping Cash's foot.

"Oh, it's you. Feel like helping me down?" Ray stares at me, fear still bright in his eyes as he shifts in his bindings.

"Don't sound too grateful. I just saved your ass." I roll my eyes, but move to start helping him.

Going closer, I ignore the dark-haired man's expectant expression, bowing so that I can heave the troughs of water out of the way, first. It isn't easy: the containers weigh tonnes, their contents sloshing all over the place as I brace my shoulder against the battered steel, muscles straining to dislodge them. A grating screech sounds from the base of the troughs as they rasp along the hard ground, but I eventually manage to get them clear, panting by the time they're significantly out of the way. 

"Ok, this is probably gonna hurt a bit." I warn Ray, before going over to the knots at the end of the ropes holding them up.

"What is- argh!" The detective yelps in surprise as he drops unceremoniously from the ceiling, landing with a thud on the cold stone floor.

I leave Gabe's line for now, going over to help Ray up as he rolls onto his side, groaning in pain. Untying him, I check him over for any particularly bad wounds.

"Couldn't you have done that a little less painfully?" Ray grumbles as he moves to sit upright, wiping away blood from his nose, groaning. 

"Sorry, next time I'll bring a mattress." I roll my eyes again, "You'll live. Now help me with Cash."

"Can't we just leave him there? He makes quite a nice light fixture." Ray jokes dryly, climbing wearily to his feet.

Shooting him a pointed look, I try to ignore the small spike in my pulse as I regard the dishevelled detective, not for the first time admiring his chiselled good-looks. Swallowing down the idle thoughts, I move back to the end of Gabe's line.

"Catch him, will you?" I tell Ray, loosening the knot, Cash's limp body dropping ever so slightly as I do so.

"The lump'll crush me!" He complains, but goes to stand underneath him anyway, reaching up to brace Cash's thighs with a grimace.

"You know, your jibes would have much more effect if he were awake." I smile wryly.

Ray doesn't say anything, but sends me a quick smirk anyway, knowing I'm right. 

Turning away, I untie the knot completely, looking back to see Cash fall onto Tango, his torso rocking precariously as the latter struggles to hold him up. Rushing over, I reach out, arms outstretched as the two start to fall, Gabe landing heavily in my grip, throwing us all to the floor. We land heavily, a dull pain erupting in my back from the impact.

Winded, I lie there, Gabe on my chest, Ray on his rival's stomach, breathing heavily as we try to recover. Against me, Gabe shifts slightly, moaning in his unconsciousness, making me force myself to sit upright, his head now in my lap, Ray still trying to catch his breath on his back. Looking down at the man on my thighs, I brush aside some hair from his face, swiping away a little blood from his lip, glancing up to see Ray staring at me, jaw tight. Confused, I go to say something, my brow cocked, only to stop when a pained voice trickles up from between us.

"This isn't what I expected from the afterlife." Gabe murmurs, eyes barely open as he gazes up at me, licking his dry lips.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Cash." Ray jumps in, pushing himself back up.

Frowning, Gabe lifts his head, opening his mouth to speak, before closing it again, the sharp response clearly struggling to materialise.

"Come on, let's get you untied." I chuckle, moving to shift out from under the detective in my lap.

Gabe groans, whining as I roll him over, Tango reaching over to loosen the knots of his ties. Once free, he lazily tries to return to his original position, only to complain when he finds out I've moved. Now standing, I look down at the two with a fading smile, quickly becoming serious as I think back over the gravity of the situation. The two notice, joining me in standing, Gabe rapidly adjusting his clothes as Ray wipes blood from his lip.

"Whoever set you guys up has a serious problem with you two." I muse, scratching my chin in consternation.

"Wait, you believe us?" Ray sounds surprised, his rival regarding me with a similar expression. 

"About what?"

"The setup." 

Glancing at him, I tilt my head.

"Yeah, of course. What, you thought I was one of the bribed guards? After all the tip-offs I gave you both?" I shake my head in exasperation.

"Pretty dumb, if you ask me, Tango." Cash comments, smirking as he runs a hand through his hair, betraying his nerves.

"And who didn't listen to the tip-offs?" I tease him, grinning as Ray sends him a pointed look. 

"Hey, I've had a lot on my mind!" Gabe protests, before he conspiratorially rakes his gaze over me, "A certain someone in particular."

Blushing, I wave him off, muttering a quick "behave" before gesturing for the two detectives to follow after me.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" Ray hisses to Gabe as they limp along behind me, a scoff following this as we reach the door I came through.

"And you think you're better? Come on, man, I've seen you staring at her when she does her rounds. Your cellmate practically has to wipe the drool from your chin." 

"I'm not deaf, you know." I sigh, leading them into a side room,  where a desk and few chairs have been pushed to the wall, a couple of pieces of equipment sat neatly where I left them.

The two men enter behind me, frowning at the sight of the small room, confused by its purpose. Naturally, Gabe is quick to recover and goes straight to one of the chairs, sitting down and leaning back in it, head tilted back so that his mane of golden hair falls down between his shoulder blades. Ray eyes him disdainfully, only to take a seat near him, running a hand through his own hair, muscular arms flexing as he does so. It's a struggle for me to keep my eyes averted from them both as I go to the table in the centre and take out my first aid kit, opening it to check inside. 

"Ok, who's first?" I finally look up at them both, my cheeks warming up as I am met with two intense stares, neither looking away as I make eye contact.

"I'll go!" Gabe interrupts Ray before he can speak, hopping up and coming over to me, leeching on the table with a grin.

Shaking my head, I take some gauze and start to clean out the worst wounds he received, which I soon find are not particularly bad, so I move to check that he's not concussed at all. Removing a small penlight from my keys, I hold it up to his face, placing a finger under his chin to level his head properly. 

"Ok, stare straight ahead." I tell him, not quite realising why he's smirking until I realise that he's decided to stare straight at me, blue eyes fixed on mine. Shaking my head, I once more ignore the blush on my cheeks as I check if his eyes are dilating properly, quickly moving to check his response as I move my hand in front of his face. Thankfully he seems to be ok, everything working as it should be. 

"All done." I tell him, placing the penlight down on the desk beside him, glancing back up in time to see him leaning in. Surprised, I have no time to react before he's pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, the blonde smirking as he hops off the bench, eyes glittering mischievously. 

Ray makes a sound of disapproval, glaring at Gabe as his rival steps past, muscles tensed up as he tries to fight back the (very) obvious jealousy. Quickly, he takes Cash's place on the table, looking at me gratefully as I start cleaning up the wound on his head. His dark eyes don't leave mine the entire time, unnerving me a little.

"So what do we do now?" He eventually asks, voice low as I stand close to him to make sure the cut is properly dressed.

"You guys need to get out of here." I muse, chewing my lip as I work, "It's just how we're gonna do it that's difficult."

"We?" Gabe sounds hopeful, though I can hear a little jealousy in his tone. This confuses me, until I realise why: Ray has gently placed a hand on either side of my waist, most likely under the pretense that he needs a hold to ground himself. 

"Y-Yeah, we. I don't think you two will make it out without help." I tell him, calming my nerves as my pulse picks up, swiping the gauze over Ray's head once more before taking up the penlight again.

"And you're offering? Won't that lose you your job?" Ray questions, surprised at what I've said.

I sigh, standing back upright once I've checked his eyes.

"If I get caught, yeah, it will. At least it'll be for good reason." I shrug, stepping back out of Ray's grip, somewhat reluctantly.

Taking advantage of this, Gabe steps closer, placing a reassuring hand on my lower back. Unused to this kind of affection, I look up at him, expression somewhat blank as he speaks.

"You're sure about that?" He queries, searching my face for hesitation.

"Yeah, I am. What happened to you two wasn't fair, so I think it's good if you get your revenge." I nod firmly, glancing back at Ray, who smiles at me, "Look, I'll come up with a plan as soon as I can. For now, you two need to try and stay alive."

"Easier said than done." Ray murmurs, but agrees nonetheless.

"For you, we will." Gabe teases, tapping my chin with a grin.

[fallcolorspringrapid]

10. wincest gay bar!

WIP list game

Oh boy. Baby’s first wincest fic.

Late last spring, when I was somewhere in the middle of the second season for the first time, one night a line of dialogue popped into my head: “Don’t Sammy me with your dick up my ass.” As you do, I laughed about it with my wincesty friends, but then I started thinking: how would the brothers end up in that situation? A couple of days later I was writing my first SPN fic, the first fanfic I’d written in years.

I love the good old “they had to kiss to avoid detection” trope, and what better place for it than a haunted gay bar! They’re hunting a ghost the locals have dubbed the Killer Queen, but before the brothers get anywhere with the case, Sam realizes that a creepy dude staring at them is a hunter, one of Gordon’s pals. Kissing Dean to prove they’re definitely not the Winchester brothers is the first plan he comes up with, and it leads to predictable consequences.

The fic is complete, but it sits in the WIP folder, because I was and am not happy with it. Reading it again now, several months later, I can see that there’s a fun little story in there somewhere, and it has some good lines, but it’s going to need a substantial rewrite.

Two snippets under the cut. 

The first one is their first brush with the hunter. The second one is from a little later: they’ve already kissed once, tried and failed to escape through the bathroom, and are now gambling that the hunter is almost fooled and that with a bit more theatrics they’ll be able to slip out and away.

-+-

“Let’s go grab a couple of beers,” Dean says. “You pay. I’m out of cash.”

Sam grumbles, but he goes to order, and Dean has to admire how good Sam is at this whole masquerade thing, how at home he’ll seem to anyone who doesn’t know him inside and out like Dean does. He can see the line of tension running down Sam’s spine, the coiled spring quality of his muscles as Sam casually leans against the bar.

He also spots the man before Sam does and his gut tells him the man spells trouble, even if he isn’t sure why.

The man is big, bigger than Sam even, with a gray Hulk Hogan moustache and the muscles to match. He’s stuffed his beefy torso in a ludicrous pink tank top, but somehow that makes him look more intimidating, not less. He has sauntered up to the counter and is looking at Sam like Sam’s a goddamned steak.

“This one’s on me,” the man says to Sam. “What’ll you have?”

Dean doesn’t like any of it one bit, and he can see that neither does Sam, so he goes to intervene before Sam says or does something stupid.

“This guy bothering you, Sam?” Dean drapes an arm around Sam’s shoulders and gives the guy his best fuck off, he’s with me stare. Under his arm Sam is wound so tight that Dean fears he’ll crack open like a Jack-in-the-box the second Dean lets go.

The man’s eyes go from Sam to Dean and back, wary and calculating. “You guys together?”

“Yes,” Dean says at the same time Sam says, “No.” 

Dean rolls his eyes at Sam in a way he hopes looks more like not again, honey than don’t screw this up, brother.

“I see,” the man says slowly. He takes a step back, smiles. It’s an ugly smile. “Sorry to bother you.”

Sam’s eyes follow the man as he saunters away. He has that crease between his brows that means he’s unhappy or unsure about something.

“What?” Dean asks.

Sam turns his unhappy frown on him and rolls his shoulders in a pointed way, so Dean lets his arm fall away from him.

“Nothing,” Sam says.

Clearly it’s not nothing, but Dean lets it go. “Got the beers?” he asks instead, and when Sam holds up two bottles, he says, “Attaboy. Let’s sit down and talk strategy.”

-+-

Awful music washes over them when they tumble out into the corridor. They almost collide with a small angry man who’s been about to have another go at the bathroom door. “The fuck took you so long?” the man grumbles.

Quick as a snake, Sam has an arm draped around Dean’s shoulders. “Oh, you know,” he says. “This one’s not a young man anymore. Right, honey?” He plants a noisy kiss on Dean’s cheek and then turns to stage whisper at the man. “Performance issues.”

“Fuckin—“ Dean puts his arm around Sam’s waist, digs his fingers into the soft spot below his ribs. “Come on,” he says and nudges them towards the exit. A few paces on he can’t help hissing, “Performance issues? Really?”

Sam’s mouth quirks in a way that could mean anything. “You didn’t have to chew up my neck like an animal.”

“It’s all in the details,” Dean says. He more feels than hears Sam snort.

They are almost at the foot of the stairs when Dean spots the hunter. He is lounging against the bar, at the end nearest to the exit, where he has an unobstructed view of anyone coming or going. Dean sees him see them, the way his posture changes, although he does a fairly good job of maintaining an air of relaxed disinterest. Sam has spotted him as well. His fingres press into Dean’s shoulder, a warning in five points of dull pressure, and when Dean turns to look at him, Sam gives him the tiniest of eye-rolls before leaning down for a kiss.

It could remain a chaste little thing, the kiss, something just for show. There’s hesitation after the initial touch, a few seconds in which the coin could land either way. Sam pulls back just far enough for Dean to glance past him and see that the hunter has lost interest. It’s worked—they’re in the clear, and when Sam leans back down Dean should stop him. He doesn’t, God help him. Sam’s lips are on his and Dean just doesn’t care anymore. Something snaps loose at the back of his mind and he leans into the kiss with a hunger that rises from the very core of his being. He feels Sam gasp, feels the shudder that goes through his body, and then Sam’s hands come up to cup his head, keeping him in place so that Dean couldn’t pull away if he wanted to.

Not that he has any intention on doing so. He groans into Sam’s mouth, aroused and terrified beyond belief, and yet strangely elated by the knowledge that if he’s twisted enough to want this, then at least he’s not the only one.

-+-

[marvelreaderinserts]

Hi! Can I request a Matt Murdock fic with a female mutant!reader who has healing powers? And she's mad at him for not telling her he's daredevil and doesn't want to see him hurt. She tells him that she loves him and they make up in the end?❤

LET ME TELL YOU that Matt Murdock has literally kicked the door to my heart down, and he’s planted his firm ass firmly in a seat there and r e f u s e s to budge. So you, my dear anon, who has been waiting for this for so long, please take some Matt Murdock.

ps. please send me more Matt Murdock requests

Edit: this hasn’t been proofread yet, but it’s like 3 in the morning so I’ll do it after I sleep–

– Ryan

He gets banged up a lot. ‘It comes with the territory,’ he claims, implicating his disability, but you can recognize a bit of the deeper bruises and more severe cuts to be more than just a little ‘tumble’. You gripe about his carelessness and place your fingers over the minor injuries.

Having known Murdock for a while now, it was well known between everyone that you were a mutant. Less flashy than those that are sometimes mentioned in the news– you’re not made of iron, nor can you conjure a storm at will, but in cases like this, you were most useful.

Removing your hand from his forearm, the bruise having disappeared completely. The reason Matt hadn’t flinched nor questioned your actions was that he knew you were healing him. You stretch out your fingers, letting the knuckles crack – a sound to which Matt was acutely aware of – before placing your fingers just under his temple, where a cut sat.

“You gotta stop doing this to yourself. Maybe you really do need a dog.” The worry in your tone causes a certain vein in his head to throb. Its a sound akin to that of failure to him, and he wants to assure you that you don’t have to worry about him. He can take care of himself.

“I already have a dog.” He says, gesturing across his desk to Foggy with a mischevious smirk on his face. Foggy chokes over words to his own defense as laughter uproars from the group, you included. It’s a witty joke, but he’s evaded the suggestion of help once more.

“Just.. Please. Promise me you won’t get hurt.” Knowing he can’t keep that promise, you reword it for him. “Promise me you’ll come straight to me if you’re hurt too bad.” Your fingers slipped from his temple, revealing perfectly healed skin, not a scar to be seen. 

Though you’re no longer holding his head, he remains looking up, where he knows you’re looking down at him, and he offers a nod. His hand catches yours before it returns to your side, and your heart flutters. He rubs out the kinks in your hand, feeling the energy you’d used built up, and you wonder just how long a second is supposed to take to pass. Does it usually feel like it takes forever?

“I promise.”

~•~•~

You don’t remember the forecast saying anything about rain, but the thunder from the storm was rattling your windows and making it difficult to sleep. You sigh, standing at your stove as you place the kettle on. Maybe some tea would help to ease you to sleep.

As you set the stove heat up, it was then you noticed that the rattling at your window had turned into banging. Strange, since there wasn’t any known tree to be close enough to a fifth-story window. But turning around, you were met with a surprise that would catch you so off guard, you thought you were seeing a ghost.

“Matt?!” You rush to the window and lift it immediately, not caring about the rainwater that pours inside in consequence. He lets out a groan as he moves, slipping through the window and stepping into your living room.

A million questions swarm in your head to the point it almost felt like the room was spinning. “That promise..” His voice was hoarse, strained. “That promise you offered..” Your eyes search his body, taking in his hunched stature, and the way his arm cradled his chest. “You don’t happen to have working hours? Or can I cash in for a little help now…” It was meant to be a question, but his breath ran out.

To your horror, what was dripping down his body wasn’t just rainwater, but also blood. His blood. But you don’t know what was more of a shock to you. Seeing the size of the gash across his chest, or recognizing the mask in his hand to belong to that of Daredevil.

“Matt..?” All that can coherently pass your lips is his name, and you stand there, dumbfounded for a split second before you rush to his wobbling frame. You lead him to your couch, laying out a blanket for him to lay on. It doesn’t even cross your mind that it might stain. 

The kettle goes off, and the loud whistle overstimulates not just you, but him. “[y/n]..” He sounded pained, and tears pricked your eyes threateningly, and you took the kettle as a means to excuse yourself for a moment.

It’s all telltale, though– your frantic heartbeat, the choked breaths you take, and your subtle sniffle. He could feel guilt begin to sink its nasty claws in his heart, but he couldn’t keep this secret from you any longer. Not when you need to know what you’re getting yourself into– and to remind himself of what he should never have.

You’d taken the time to pour the water into a bowl, cooling it off with some ice. You place it beside the couch before rushing to your linen closet for a hand towel. Arriving at the couch once more, you immediately fall beside him. Matt shifts, trying to lean up, but you force him still. 

“Don’t move, you’ll aggravate your wound.” Your voice shakes, and you curse yourself for sounding so weak, “it’s a large cut, spanning the width of your chest. It’s a lot more than healing those scratches and bruises.” You explain, and even with eyes unfocused, you can tell Matt was listening intently to what you were saying. “It might take a bit longer for me to close the wound, but I can do it.”

“I trust you, [y/n]. Even before this promise, I.. There’s no one else I would have gone to.” His words strike you, but you just begin on your work. His suit’s top is soaked in blood and water, and you lift it to reveal the cut. Something that would normally need stitching, and constant attention, you can bring it down to nothing more than scar tissue. You’d used some of your own energy earlier for his lighter wounds, but this would take much more.

Your hands come into contact with his warm, slick skin, and it takes all your willpower not to break down at the thought of his pain, and that if that knife went in just an inch deeper, you would have lost him.

In a rush of emotion, you thrust all your energy into your palms, and you can feel the shift of it, from your body into his, as his cells work at a rapid pace to seal his wound. A sharp cry falls from your lips as it takes its toll on you, but a groan from Matt reveals it’s just as agonizing for him.

“It will.. pass. The discomfort will pass.” You promise him, looking over his face, and into his eyes, which you know can’t see you in return. Instead, his hand comes up to your wrist, holding it tight, securely. It’s a firm and steady grip, and the complete opposite of what you’d expect in this situation. It was comforting, to say the least, and it inspires you to give your all.

It takes a half an hour to heal him completely, and even then, there’s a scar that’s left behind. You’re lightheaded, and it’s hard to keep your sight straight. “Matt?” You call out to him, but he doesn’t respond. His eyes are closed, and his breathing is even. “Matt?” You project your voice a bit more, and it must have come across as urgent, because his eyes are now open, and his head is tilted in your direction.

“[y/n], I…” He seemed to be at a loss for words. You’d spent a half hour healing his chest wound, but that didn’t account for the swelling on his face or the scrapes across his shoulder, and who-knows-what-else he wasn’t telling you. And it seemed this was your breaking point. Your tears spill over, and you grip his soaked suit, tugging at where the hole is.

“Do you know how this looks to me??” Your voice carried more concern than anger, but Matt could still detect it there. “What are you thinking?! How do you think you’re..” Footage of Daredevil had shown he was exceptional at martial arts. It was irrefutable and undeniable. But to link the two of them? Matt Murdock, and.. Daredevil?

“The danger you put yourself into, every night?? What if one day you take a beating like this, and you don’t wake up? If I’m not there to save you? If I’m unable to save you?” Your voice breaks, and you hiccup through a sob. “What this would do to Foggy?” Your heart broke for him, for the day he hears, God forbid, that Matt passes.

“What this would do to me?” You sound defeated, and you take one more look over his body. All those scars, all those cuts, those bruises. Everything you’d ever healed for him, had been from this? 

“Matt, I..” 

Another sob. 

“I love.. you.”

And that seemed to be his breaking point. He’d silently sat there, taking in all you had to say, as he was expecting it.

“This city is unsafe. As long as men like– like this exist, the city cannot be safe.” He starts. “I couldn’t just sit by any longer as I heard all of this happening around me– I had to do something.” He says, bringing his hand to yours. He’s gentle with them, caressing them, treating them like glass. They’ve been creaking since twenty minutes ago. It must have been a limitation of your abilities since it sounds painful.

“And it’s because I love you, [y/n] I need to make sure this city is safe– for you to live. For us.” There’s nothing but numb pressure on his chest now, and he’s regained his strength to lift himself up. His opposite hand easily finds your neck, and he guides you in slowly. “Trust in me, [y/n], I want nothing more than your safety, and your happiness. I love you, too.”

He closes the distance with a kiss; soft, sweet, and tender. You’re already shaking due to the loss of energy from the transfer. But Matthew Murdock was on your couch, kissing you.

Sure, he was bloody, and you just found out that he’s the notorious Daredevil, but looking past that, he’s a man you can be proud of and a man you’d give anything to protect.

And he’d give anything for you, as well.

[imgilmoregirl]

AO3 Link

Notes: Hey guys, sorry for the delay with this chapter. Tough week, I didn't even think I was able to post this chapter until Friday, but I'm slightly better, enought to sit here and do this again. Oh, I want to thank everybody so much for the Happy Ending Awards nominations! This fic has been nomined for Best Modern AU. Bittersweet, The Dark Children and The Parent Trap are also on the list, so I couldn't be more grateful, you are amazing!

A Cowardly Act

Rogers liked to think of himself as a careful person. He was living in Storybrooke for about a year now which meant that Tilly was going to school there now and Sabine occasionally popped up to see them. Eloise – his annoying ex-wife – kept calling and threatening to call her lawyer if he didn’t come back to town with their daughter, but as Rogers knew she had no real reason to do so other than bothering him and nor did she had the money to pay for a lawyer, Rogers ignored her and focused in his work while trying to give Tilly the needed attention.

He would have gone to Boston earlier if he was one of those reckless guys he had met in Hyperion Heights, but he wasn’t, so Rogers stayed in town for long weeks doing all the research he needed before taking the road. He already knew this was a very dark, twisted story and that he would probably only find another broken person in there, which made him study each step carefully, even more because he wasn’t alone like when he went to San Francisco to see Zelena. No, today Tilly was with him and anything that went wrong, could very well affect her.

The building was old and had no concierge, so they got to the third floor without any problems. Tilly was holding his hand tight, walking slowly, staying some steps back and peeking curious looks around, although she looked a bit tense with the whole situation. Rogers knocked on the door and petted her hair while they waited, but as soon as they heard the crack of they key and the door was open to reveal a tall, blonde woman with dark circles around her eyes.

“Anastasia?”

“Yeah, and you are…”

“Detective Rogers,” he said, expecting her overreact like Zelena had done, but Ana showed no real signs that she had understood what he said. “Mr. Robert Gold, from Storybrooke, Maine, said you could answer a few of my questions about Robin de Locksley’s murderer.”

She blinked then, opening he door a bit more, but still seeming somehow a bit numb. He furrowed at her blank expression, trying to understand if she was drunk, high or something like that, but concluding that lifeless was the word he was looking for to describe how Anastasia looked like right now. Rogers felt Tilly’s hand tugging at the ends of his jacket from behind him, but he didn’t turn around to her, only kept watching the woman in front of him.

“I’ll not speak of this in the hallway,” Anastasia declared. “I can offer you a cup of tea.”

“Thank you.”

Getting Tilly by the hand he made his way inside the tiny apartment, taking the first real reaction from Ana that night as she rose an eyebrow at him when she noticed the little girl he had on his heels.

“Do you always bring a child to your investigations?”

“No, ah, this is my daughter, Tilly. I had nowhere else to leave her so I just brought her with me,” he tried to explain in a clumsy way. “If you don’t mind.”

Locking the door again, Ana bent down, so her face was at the same level as his daughter’s. She showed her a smile, very genuine for someone that seemed to be so dead inside.

“I have a room full of old classic dolls if you want to take a look while I speak to your father, sweet angel,” Ana suggested, pointing one of the only two doors in the small corridor her apartment had. She straightened up her position then, her smile fading as her eyes met Rogers and she shrugged, taking a seat on what seemed to be the cheapest couch in the world, all raggedy and wavy. “Children should not hear testimonies about murders.”

He nodded in agreement, because in fact he would never want her daughter to hear any of it and he had only brought her there with him because he was without options. Rogers didn’t’ know people in Storybrooke well enough to trust a nanny and, after hearing all those tragic stories people in there had, he didn’t want Tilly to get much contact with those folks.

“Will you tell me what you saw?”

“Everything,” Ana breathed, tightening her lips until they were white and taking a moment before she started to speak, eyes focused on an invisible point. “Hades beat him up until the very last moment, then he took a gun and shot him three times. I’ve never seen such a heartless scene in my entire life.”

She was still visibly shaken by that, he could see it and understand it perfectly and that probably meant that she was afraid to, which wasn’t a good thing, because terrified witnesses hardly spoke in court. If he wanted to lock Hades in jail for good he would need to call for her sensible side.

“Anastasia, that man killed another person.”

“What?”

“Haven’t Will told you?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said. “The last time we spoke was when he gave me the video of that night, he just told me that Hades was too dangerous for us to ever risk crossing his path.”

“Yeah, but he did give you that video because Hades had attacked again. Mr. Gold’s family,” Rogers told her. “They suffered an accident last year, caused by a car sabotage and Baden Gold died. Just a child.”

A gasp left Ana, her blue eyes becoming blurry with tears.

“How could someone do this?”

“I don’t know, but I know that we need to get him in jail and if you come with me to Storybrooke, we can do this,” Rogers said in his most convincing tone of voice, knowing that his whole work depended of her answer. “With you and Zelena testifying against him and the video as a proof, he will never be a danger for anyone again.”

Suddenly, she stood up, giving her back to him and facing the small window in the corner of her living room. Rogers could notice that her shoulders were shaking and her legs seemed to be unstable as she wandered around, some tears falling down her face, before she finally took a long, deep breath and pronounced herself.

“Alright, I’ll do this.”

Gold didn’t like having breakfast at Granny’s or any other diner around town, but Belle had insisted in coming earlier to the school, so she grabbed a muffin and ran off, talking about Jasmine Shirin’s new big reading project for their class, leaving him to feed Sarah before dropping her in time for at school. He couldn’t complain about having some time with his precious girl, but he surely didn’t think it was healthy to have cocoa with whipped cream at seven in the morning.

Sarah, of course, was enjoying it very much, ignoring the toasts he had insisted in ordering for her and happily eating the treats Ruby brought her instead. She was kind of singing, kind of humming a childish song when the front door was opened and she waved at the woman that walked towards then with a victory smile on her lips.

“Hey, Miss Mills!”

“Hello Sarah,” Regina said, poking Ruby’s arm then and pointing at the girl. “Take her away, little waiter thing.”

“I have a name,” Ruby snarled, taking Sarah by the hand. “Come on, honey, I’ll get a cookie for you.”

Gold leaned against the seat, snorting as he watched his daughter being taken away and Regina Mills taking her place in front of him. He wished she could understand that he simply didn’t want to see her, that he never would be able to forgive her for dragging him into the investigation that changed his whole life, but she was too stubborn for that.

“What do you want, Regina?”

“Rogers has a proof you’ve never got, he knows who my husband’s murderer is, and he will get him in jail as soon as he ends up filling the paperwork,” she said, proudly.

His breath got caught on his throat and he couldn’t quite face Regina, his eyes focused on Sarah. Over a year ago, he had find out the same thing Rogers did, he was ready to lock Hades from this world for good, but then he lost his precious boy. Now, all he had left was that energic, beautiful five-year-old for who he would give his own life and he couldn’t help but to fear the consequences of opening that case again.

“Good for him,” Gold said as if he didn’t care about anything at all. “I don’t want to have anything to do with your dirty work, I’ve already payed a high price for it.”

“I’m just saying, you’re not as good as you think,” Regina smiled.

Clasping his hand on the table between then, Robert leaned forward, narrowing his eyes dangerously at her.

“Go away, dearie, I’m having lunch with my child and if you were a sensate person you would be doing the same, instead of chasing a ghost,” he said, sharply and rude. “Robin is not coming back, but you still have the love of your boys.”

“My boys needed to know what happened to their father,” the mayor answered in an equally harsh voice.

Then, she stood up, grabbing her black purse and leaving the dinner, slamming the door shut emphatically behind herself. He took a moment, breathing in and out slowly before grabbing his cane and making his way to the counter and sliding the cash for Ruby, who had been watching attentively, while trying to distract his daughter.

“She is not stopping, is she?”

“No,” he sighed. “We can only hope Hades doesn’t finds out about that, or only God knows what he might do.”

“Yeah,” the waiter responded, weakly. “Take Sarah away.”

“I will, thanks Ruby.”

He got Sarah’s pink and red backpack and called for her. That day, however he didn’t drove her to school, but made the effort of walking even with a throbbing knee, because Gold’s guard would be up from now on and he wouldn’t give hades a second chance of destroying his family.

Belle knew something was wrong by the moment her husband showed up without his car to pick them up from school. Her day had been wonderful, the new reading project a complete success that she was excited to continue accompanying, but now her happiness was a bit clouded by preoccupation. Gold said he had taken the car to Billy’s mechanical workshop for a full check up and that they could go home in it later, but she didn’t swallow his words.

He had taken Sarah with him to pick up the car when they arrived the centre of the town and she went straight to the grocery store hoping to get a few things they had run out of and pick the ingredients he asked for their dinner. She hoped that at home, once Sarah was asleep, they could have a real talk and he could be honest with her, so she took a basket and strolled between the different sections, filling it with food, until she got to the fridges and stopped to take an attentive look at them, trying to locate what she needed until she noticed who was standing next to her and jumped, startled.

“Papa,” Belle swallowed, as Moe looked at her for the first time in months, with wide eyes. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Everybody needs to buy food at some point,” he said, coldly.

She should have been expecting that, but unfortunately, Belle was one of those people who was always hoping people could change, she just should only know by now that Moe wasn’t one capable of it. A loud sigh escaped her as she reached for the brown bowls with happy bananas in its package and set them inside her heavy basket.

“You’re right… We got out of Sarah’s favourite yogurt,” she said as if excusing herself, which was ridiculous, because nobody should ever need to explain why they were buying groceries. “I - I should get going.”

Placing a hand on her swollen stomach and looking down at the floor, she took some steps away from him, feeling miserable for being so fiercely ignored by her own father for something that was just wrong in his stupid, little mind.

“How…” Moe started. “How far long are you?”

Belle stopped, feeling Gideon turning around inside of her. He was going to be quite an energic child, but it was good to think that he was healthy enough to keep her up all night even now, before even being born. She licked her lips, trying to think if she should answer her father or not and deciding to be nice, because at least one of them had to.

“Thirty-two weeks. I have a C-section booked for the day after I reach thirty-six.”

“Good, that’s good,” he muttered. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said, Belle, I was just angry. You deserved better than Gold.”

“I chose him, papa, why can’t you understand that?” Belle inquired. “He is the one I love, the father of my children… I want to fight for my marriage as mother fought for hers. Or do you think it was easy for her to live with you?”

“Belle…”

She knew she had being mean, but Belle remembered her childhood perfectly and although Moe tried his best to be a nice husband and father, he had always failed that. Belle couldn’t question how much he loved her mother, because she knew her death almost killed him too, but he wasn’t an easy man and if he wanted to paint Gold as a bad guy, then she should make him see that he was way better than Moe had ever been.

“I’m having a boy,” Belle mentioned, petting her belly very gently. “If you ever want to meet him you know where to find me. Sarah has been missing you too.”

There was more to be said, of course, however that was enough for her for one day. She was still recovering herself and if she wanted to be healthy for herself and her child, then she couldn’t let small things like that bring her anxiety up again. It was still a daily battle for her, but one that she was slowly winning and Belle wouldn’t let her father ruin that. She couldn’t.

They had plans for Saturday night ever since the beginning of the week. Jefferson and Alice were hosting a dinner for both families in their house and Belle thought it was the perfect distraction from their actual concerns. She hadn't seen Rogers much around town lately, but she knew that whenever he was he was doing his job and working to get Hades arrested. Gold had finally told her about the detective’s intentions after some hesitation, telling Belle that they should be twice as careful now, because after all he was still the one to have started that investigation.

She tried not to get much preoccupied, but it was impossible. Hades was not their only problem. The medicines Sarah was taking seemed to be getting less effective at each passing day, her teacher said she slept during class a few times and refused to play with her friends because she was tired and sore. Belle was counting weeks until the baby was born, because only then her girl would be fine again.

That night, however, she tried to forget about it all and focus on giving herself the chance of relax and smile without wondering for how long she would still be happy. They were at the Madden's backyard, having dinner while the girls played around with their dolls and cooing little Maggie, who was now nestled in Belle's arms, moving her hands up and down and occasionally tangling her tiny fingers in one of her hair curls.

“Oh, look at it, she is smiling,” Belle exclaimed without averting her glare from the baby.

Jefferson approached her, taking a look at his daughter over her shoulder.

“She looks exactly like me, right?”

“Mm… Maybe the eyes?”

“Come on, bookworm, she has my chin,” he insisted with a silly smile.

It made Belle laugh. Jefferson was deeply in love with his daughter's and apparently, for him, it was essential that they looked alike. Not that people could really tell who a baby that small had taken features from. Gold was sat by her side, stroking her back and taking a curious, attentive look at the baby girl in her arms. He had a soft spot for children and that had always made her love him a bit more.

“Grace has your chin, be happy with that," they heard Alice said and looked up to see her bringing a jar of apple juice to the table. "Maggie has mine.”

“At least we are not getting any arguments like these when Gideon is born," Gold teased Belle, reaching out to rub at her belly, feeling their son kick for him. "I’d rather him to inherit your good looks.”

“Stupid,” she rolled her eyes. “He is going to look like you.”

Shaking his head, Gold caught her lips between his, starting a gentle kiss that became wet and hot and made Belle's heart beat faster. She needed much presence of mind to remind herself that she was holding Maggie, but she didn’t quite want to lose contact with her husband, so she kept a safe distance between them to not get the baby fussy. Jefferson, however, was already half coughing in disgust half smirking at them.

“Not in front of the kid, you two!”

Belle pulled away from Robert with a pop of their mouths as she gently rubbed Maggie’s chubby leg with a hand to keep her calm, but there was no real need to, that baby was a glee one and even in her sleep they often caught her smiling.

“She was plentily happy here, thank you.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes and took his daughter from her anyway. He sat back on his chair, cooing at her as Belle laid her head on Gold’s shower and Alice ate a piece of cheese. That was when Sarah and Grace came running from inside the house, passing way too near the full pool and making he blonde woman get startled.

“Girls take care, you can fall in the pool,” Alice yelled at them.

“Sorry mama,” Grace stopped to say before they rushed towards the children’s table again.

Alice giggled filling a cup with juice for herself before turning back to Belle.

“So, the new doctors are coming over from Seattle tomorrow?”

“I actually heard from Whale that they are already here, but we are only supposed to meet up tomorrow,” she explained. “This paediatrician is really interested in Sarah’s case.”

Whale was a good doctor and Belle was pretty sure he would have done a good job taking care of them by himself until the end, but she was glad those specialists were coming from Seattle, because it made her be a bit surer that everything was going to be fine in the end. Both for Sarah and for Gideon.

“That’s nice, she’ll have the best of the best taking care of her,” Alice said before taking a sip of her juice.

“Yeah,” Belle agreed. “It makes me a little less nervous.”

“There is no need to get nervous, sweetheart,” Gold intervened, touching her face with love. “I’ve already told you that everything is going to be alright, I’m going to be with you two all the time.”

“I know, it is just - ”

Her voice died when a loud sound echoed in the backyard, startling everybody, but she didn’t have time to react, because in the short time her brain took to register the noise, something hit her hard on the chest and a horrible pain spread through her body. She gasped, lifting a trembling hand to touch the hole in her flesh that dripped blood as she tried to catch her breath.

“Belle,” Gold exclaimed, holding her in place before she could fall from her chair.

“What the fuck is happening?” Jefferson yelled, kneeling on the floor and covering the baby with his arms.

“There is someone in here,” Alice shouted back, pointing to the hooded figure near the walls.

Belle however, could only see blurry images of everything, she was pressing a hand against the wound in her chest, just above her belly and sobbing in pain, the despair starting to take her over. Her head was spinning, the baby kicked, probably feeling her distress and then she suddenly felt her belly get rigid as a new pain hit her. A contraction, she concluded in affliction.

“Get the children, Alice,” Jefferson commanded.

But the girls were already running towards then, afraid of what might be happening. The hand that was touching her face – Gold’s hand – left her and she saw as he stood up at a scream – her scream, there was another contraction and it hurt more than it was supposed to.

“Mama,” Sarah called, but was hold back by Alice. “Mama, what is happening?”

“Come back you son of a bitch,” Gold yelled, but Belle couldn’t see what he was doing anymore, her eyes were closed tightly as she tried to concentrate and breath between the pains that burned her body. “I’m going to kill you!”

“Bobby…” Belle whispered, weakly.

There was a gun in her bag. She had promised him she would use it to defend herself and their son, but in the middle of a nice, innocent dinner, she had been shot without any alarm, without knowing how this happened and why someone would do this, although she had a good bet on who did.

“Sweetheart, I’m here.”

“The baby… Can’t lose the baby,” she mumbled. “Please, don’t let me lose him.”

“I’ll call the ambulance,” Alice said.

She felt Gold’s breath near to her face, his hand stroking her hair and his tears bathing her face. Belle couldn’t see what she looked like right now, but by the way her body felt so horrible, she bet it wasn’t any good.

“We are not losing him, my love.”

“It hurts, I can’t breathe.”

At each second, she felt more distant from where she should be, the pain started to get less and less perceptible and the voices speaking on the back of her mind started to get lower. She had no idea what could happen with them next, but she begged that whatever it was that her son got out of it alive. Belle feared for herself too, but as she drifted to unconsciousness, Gideon was the only thing she could think about. She couldn’t lose another child.