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alarajrogers · 5 years

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Untitled Picard/Q-ish fic

This is very rough -- no beta, we die like women -- and I don’t even have a title for it yet, but I wanted to get it out there because it’s late. It was supposed to be for Tapestry Day, Feb. 15th.

It is very subtle Picard/Q, and could be interpreted as friendship rather than romantic feelings, because that is how I roll. It’s set in the current Star Trek: Picard series (up through episode 5), and explains why Q hasn’t been around to help Picard with things like supernovas killing billions of people (and for that matter other things that are spoilers so I won’t mention them but would affect his son.)

There was someone sitting in his study.

There was someone sitting in his study, and Laris and Zhaban were nowhere to be found. Quietly Picard edged toward where one of the various hidden phasers that Laris and Zhaban insisted on hiding in his study, dining room, bedroom and pretty much everywhere was stashed.

“You’re not very stealthy in your old age, mon amiral,” a voice said. A voice that was familiar, but that he hadn’t heard in… had it been decades? At least twelve years, to be sure.

“Q!” Picard stepped forward into the study, unable to control the joyful smile on his face. As soon as he was close, though, he took half a step back, literally taken aback by what he saw.

Q looked old.

Not as old as Picard himself, perhaps, but his face was lined and worn, his dark hair shot through with silver. He also had facial hair, a mustache and a brushing of beard on his chin and jawline.

“You look almost happy to see me,” Q said. “Well, you did. Now you just look shocked.”

“I never expected to see you age,” Picard said. “But I suppose you can take the form of an old man as easily as you took the form of a young one.”

Q smiled wryly. “I can, yes, but… there’s always been an element of truth in how I appear to you. I’m not doing this to make some sort of commentary on the fact that you’ve aged… a terrible mortal habit, there, but I don’t imagine I’ll break you of it any time soon.”

“No, I think not,” Picard agreed, nodding. “Are you saying you feel old?” He sat down in the chair that faced Q. “I remember when you told me of your new responsibilities in the Continuum, you said they’d age you prematurely, but I took it for a joke.”

“It was a joke. That’s not… why.” Q closed his eyes. “I know you called for me. You asked me for my help, didn’t you? And I didn’t come.”

“I… assumed that your responsibilities had become too onerous to spend time in the company of mortals anymore,” Picard said, carefully.

It had hurt. When Starfleet had refused to help the Romulans, when there were so many stranded and desperate and Picard had no resources to save them… he had called out to Q. Better to owe his omnipotent sometime-nemesis, sometime-companion something than to cling to his human pride and let billions die.

Q hadn’t come. Picard hadn’t seen him since… since several months before the supernova. Q had said nothing, then, to imply that he wasn’t going to come back.

Picard had spent a long time convincing himself not to feel betrayed by that.

“No, no,” Q said. “I’d have made time for you, if not…” He shook his head. “The one time you break down and spontaneously call for my help, and it had to be for this.”

“So there was a reason for it.”

“A very good reason.” Q snapped his fingers, and a glass of something alcoholic appeared in his hand. Another one appeared on the end table next to Picard. “Not the house brand, but I imagine occasionally you indulge in something you didn’t grow yourself?”

“Occasionally,” Picard said. Q would get to the point, eventually, and he had learned patience. He picked up the glass and breathed deeply of the aroma. “This is… actually from Betazed, if I don’t mistake it?”

Q nodded. “Adwana wine. Not particularly strong as alcohol goes, not to humans, but it interferes with telepathy.”

“Are we worried about telepaths?”

“Not… exactly.” Q took a sip. “When I’m in human form, the same brain centers that mediate telepathy in humanoids allow me to connect back to the Continuum. I’m not, currently, an extradimensional being driving a puppet around. This is me, mostly.”

The wine tasted rather like sake, but with a sweet undertone that was distinctly fruity and yet wholly un-grape-like. Almost like… blackberries, he thought. But not quite. “You’re shutting down your powers. Why?”

“I don’t want to have them right now,” Q said. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, the Calamarain’s not going to show up on your doorstep. I can’t possibly fully shut myself down with a drink or two. I just… I don’t want to be so aware of it.”

“I suppose you have your reasons.” Picard set the drink down. It really wasn’t to his taste.

“And you’re just waiting with bated breath for me to tell you what they are, aren’t you?”

“That is why you’re dropping hints, I think.”

“You know me so well.” He twirled the drink in his hand. “Tell me, Picard. You had hypotheses, I’m sure. What did you guess was the reason I didn’t come when you called?”

“I’ve said. I thought your responsibilities—”

“There were other things you thought, though.”

“So I see the adwana isn’t interfering with your telepathy that much.”

Q shook his head. “I’m not reading your mind, but I know you.” He leaned closer to Picard. “Jean-Luc, there has never been a day in your life when you haven’t been considering multiple possibilities for everything that happens.”

“Well, I thought perhaps you were forbidden to interfere. Or—”

“Or?”

“Or that… well, why would you care about humans? You have your own life in the Continuum. You have a son. Perhaps your… interest in me was… a passing thing. Something you have no need for, anymore.”

“Mon amiral. Sometimes you don’t know me at all.” Q sounded mock-hurt. “But then, I imagine the truth would be… impossible for you to guess at.” He leaned forward. “I didn’t abandon you willingly, Jean-Luc. Yes, I had more going on in the Continuum than I’ve had in billions of years, but… in the Continuum, I’m a leader now. People look up to me. I’m not sure I have friends there even now. Allies, comrades-in-arms, but… no Q sees me as myself.”

“Well, by definition I don’t see you as yourself, since you have to take a different form to interact with me.”

“Yes. Ironic, isn’t it? I can most be me with a creature who literally can’t even see me. Worthy of being included in a stand-up comedy routine.” He took another deep sip, and then set the glass down with emphasis. “I was dead, Picard.”

Picard raised both eyebrows, head going back. “Dead? How?”

“Did you ever wonder… how could a supernova of one star, however large, start triggering an instability in space that blows up other stars?”

“Neither Federation nor Romulan science was ever able to explain that,” Picard admitted. He remembered something, then. When the Q killed each other with the weapons they’d used in the civil war… it had caused supernovas. “Good God. Did the war break out again?”

“In a sense.” Q looked down at his hands, folded in his lap in uncharacteristic stillness. “There was a bomb.”

“I assume you mean some sort of metaphorical something that best translates to my perceptions as a bomb?”

“Oh, no. An actual bomb. Made of Continuum-substance, of course, you wouldn’t have perceived it except through analogy, but… something that explosively releases raw energy of a form that disrupts the pattern of anything made of Continuum energy and tears it to shreds? Sounds to me like a bomb.”

“By any other name,” Picard said quietly. “But – you were dead? What do you mean by that?”

“I mean I was dead. Someone set off a bomb in the Convocation and… a dozen Q died. Which is actually a very large number. I realize it sounds like a trivial number to you—”

“No. You’ve told me that the Q number in the thousands, if that, and even if there were trillions of you, a dozen deaths are never trivial.”

“Thank you for that.” Q took a deep breath. “I was one of the casualties. The others… didn’t have a son. No Q was willing to spend the time and energy needed to put a dead Q back together, no Q had a pattern to follow they could use for reference to do so anyway… except my son. He used himself as the pattern and he spent the past… I don’t actually know how many years putting me back together and I don’t even know if I’m the same me anymore—”

“Stop.” Picard put his hands on one of Q’s. “You’re alive. That’s what’s important.”

“I don’t know if I am,” Q whispered. “I mean, yes, I’m alive, but am I me? I spent billions of years trying to preserve my identity, so many other Q trying to influence me, and now…”

“Listen to me, Q. Life changes us all. Being what you are, I imagine you don’t have much experience with the concept of scars, but even you changed over time, just from the demands of life.”

“This is a rather large change, Picard.”

“Yes. It is. But what’s the alternative? You can’t go back to what you were before, can you?”

“I suppose not.” He stood up and went to the window, looking out. “You know I would have come if I could, Jean-Luc, right?”

“I know.”

“And there’s nothing – I can’t fix it. I can’t fix any of it.” He looked back at Picard. “Do you know – of course you don’t. I changed things. We were – having an argument. You and I. Not important what it was about. But the point is… I altered the past.”

“Wait. What did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He walked back toward Picard. “It’s all gone. All the changes I made. Retroactively. Because we can’t do anything in the region of space affected by the bomb.”

Picard stood up. “Tell me what you did that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Q sighed. “We were arguing about whether I actually care about you mortals. You were very upset. You pointed out that Data died and I did nothing, and he saved my life one of the few times I was vulnerable. You said that I live on the scale of a god and I can’t relate to mortals enough to be friends with one. So, I fixed it.”

“You fixed what?”

“I arranged for Shinzon to be adopted by a human scientist and taken off Remus in his childhood. Never grew up with the hatred and resentment of humanity. Resented you, but he ended up going into Starfleet anyway. No attempt to destroy Earth. So Data didn’t die, you didn’t suffer clone angst, Charlie – that was what his name got changed to – had a happier life and didn’t run around telepathically raping half-human women. Everything was wonderful.” He leaned his forehead on the wall. “And then there was the bomb. And every change made by any Q, ever, in that region of space, was reverted to whatever it had been before it was changed. And I was dead.” He swallowed. “And now – I’m back, but I can’t bring him back. I mean, I could, he died in Earth orbit, but how am I supposed to bring him back in a world where you idiots would declare him illegal and there’d be assassins trying to kill him?”

“Q. It’s all right.” Picard walked around a chair, and reached up to his shoulder. “No one expects it of you. Data wouldn’t have expected it of you.”

“You did, once.”

“Apparently that was in an alternate universe. I don’t think you can hold that against me.”

“But you were right.” Q closed his eyes. “I wanted him to live.”

“So did I.”

Q sat down on a sofa that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Picard sat next to him. “Listen,” he said. “I’ve… wanted to tell you, for some time. I never realized, back in the days when you came to visit me frequently… that I’d miss you, as much as I did, if you didn’t come back.” He held Q’s hand clasped in both of his. “I… did consider the possibility that the Romulan supernova represented your civil war resuming, and that I hadn’t seen you because… you’d become a casualty. To be honest, when there were no further supernovae, of course I was relieved because unexpected supernovae are horrible, but it also occurred to me that, if there’d been a conflict among your people, you’d resolved it. And if it was resolved so quickly…” He swallowed. “I thought that meant you were alive.”

Q raised an eyebrow. “What part of me suggests to you that I’m good at resolving conflicts quickly, Picard?”

“The fact that you did. The first time.”

“Obviously not well enough, or no one would have planted a bomb.” He took a deep breath. “So. You missed me?”

“I did. Although I wasn’t going to tell you, if you came back and it turned out your reasons for not coming to see me in so long were trivial.” Picard smiled.

Q laughed. “I suppose you don’t consider death all that trivial?”

“Not at all.” He let go of Q’s hand. “I’m glad you’re alive now.”

“I… suppose I am as well.”

“You suppose?”

“So many died, Jean-Luc. So many. And I’m alive.”

“That’s survivor’s guilt. It’s normal.” He smiled wryly. “There are times when I’m still miserable with guilt that I’m alive and Data isn’t. Or Jack Crusher.”

“Was he as boring as his wife?”

Picard raised a finger and shook his head. “None of that. We’re past the stage where you insult my friends, now. I expect you to keep a somewhat civil tongue in your head.”

Q rolled his eyes. “Oh, how will I ever live up to this overbearing expectations?” He looked at Picard. “It’s like you think I’m a good person.”

“Now that I know something of the culture of the Q Continuum? I do think you’re a good person. About half your flaws are species-or-culture specific, and the other half don’t outweigh the ways in which you try to do what you see as the right thing even when you have to fight your culture to do so.”

Q smiled slightly. “I think you’ve finally gone senile, Picard.” Picard stiffened slightly. “Wait. Did… you get a diagnosis?”

“Assuming that the thing you showed me was a real possible future at the time… I’ve managed to put it off for some years, based on the warning you gave me, but it’s not curable. Yes. I have Irumodic Syndrome. Thank you for the extra years, by the way. I wouldn’t have known to take the treatments that can slow it down or put it off, if not for you.”

“And you’re just going to let this happen?” Q stood up and started to pace, angrily gesticulating with his hands. “You’re all right with just losing your mind? Your intellect, your memories? You’re going to let all that disappear in a haze of confusion and end up in a nursing home drooling applesauce onto your bib?”

Picard turned his hands out and up in his lap, a shrug without shoulders. “I don’t see where I have an alternative. I suppose I could die in the course of this quest, and then I’d avoid it…”

“No.” Q spun on his heel and faced Picard. “There’s another way. Come with me.”

“Come… with you?”

“To the Continuum,” Q clarified.

Picard stood. “Q. You know I have no desire to become something other than human.”

“It isn’t about what you desire.” Q started pacing again. “I know what you want, Picard. If I was making this offer because I care about you and I don’t want to see everything that made you you slowly evaporate before you finally shuffle off this mortal coil and I never see you again, I know you’d say no. ‘I have no desire to be anything other than human, Q’, like being human is the ultimate achievement.”

“It may not be the ultimate achievement, but it is what I am. And if you’re not making this offer because you don’t want me to die—”

“I don’t want any more Q to die,” Q said, walking toward Picard, his eyes completely focused on Picard’s. “You’re a diplomat. You’ve stopped countless wars, talked species who were torn apart by civil war into negotiating with each other. And my war isn’t over, not if someone is planting bombs. And the next one could be my son. Or Amanda. Or my ex. Irritating as she is, I don’t want her to die. I don’t want any of them to die, even my enemies.” He knelt in front of Picard, looking up at him. “Please, Jean-Luc. I’m not asking because I want to make you a god and gloat about how you misuse power – in the Continuum we’re not omnipotent, anyway. I’m not asking because I don’t want you to die – I don’t, but I know you won’t accept a reason like that, and I accepted your eventual death as the consequence of caring about a mortal back when I first figured out that you were more to me than a project. I’m asking because the Q don’t have anyone like you, someone who can compromise but who has the kind of iron will and courage of convictions needed to demand that everyone around you compromise too.”

“My ability to compromise didn’t help the people of the Cardassian Demilitarized Zone, in the end,” Picard said softly. “It didn’t save the Romulans.”

“Yes, yes, are you sure you don’t already think you’re a god? You certainly take the blame like you think you’re omnipotent.” Q stood up. “I know you’ve failed at things. But you’re better at this than me. You’re better at this than any Q in the Continuum. And they won’t listen to you if you’re a mere mortal.”

“But they’ll listen to me if I’m a brand new Q?”

“Yes. Because you’ll make them listen. And because my faction will support you.” He paced again. “You’re worried about misusing your power? We can keep you from coming back to this plane of existence until everyone you cared about is dead, so you’re not tempted to intervene. You’re worried about not being human? Well, when you’re dead you’re not a human being because you’re not being anything at all. If you can contemplate ceasing to exist, how can you refuse to contemplate ceasing to exist as you are, transforming rather than dying?”

Picard took a deep breath. “If you’d come to me a few weeks ago, I might have said yes, but… I have obligations, now. I have to find Data’s other daughter, and protect her.”

Q took a deep breath. “I know where she is, but she’s beyond my reach.”

“So she’s in the Beta Quadrant, somewhere near the area of space affected by the Romulan supernova.”

“Yes.”

“And you can’t save her or help her because she’s in a place where Q power doesn’t work.”

“Yes.”

“I already know where she is, Q. She’s on the Artifact. Bruce Maddox told me, a short while ago.”

Q nodded. “Of course you do. But are you aware that when you came in and found me, you thought you were actually back home with your Romulan bodyguards?”

Cold washed over Picard. Q was right. When he’d sensed that someone was in his holographic study, the one that had been programmed to look exactly like home… he’d thought he was home. He’d thought that Laris and Zhaban were around somewhere and that the phasers they’d hidden about the room were also here. “I… yes. You’re right. I can’t deny it.” Picard took a deep breath. “But it doesn’t change anything. As long as I have enough of my mind here in the present that I can keep fighting, I need to find Soji and protect her. She’s all I have left of Data, and… I couldn’t save her sister. I owe it to Data, I owe it to Dahj to find Soji before the Zhat Vash do.”

“And that’s more important than preventing a war. A war that will cause supernovae and kill trillions of mortals as collateral damage, if it breaks out again.”

“I don’t have long to live, Q. Do I? By Q standards?”

“You could live another sixty years and it would be an eyeblink by Q standards, but… no. No, I think you have less time than that, and you know why.”

Picard nodded. “And you told me that you could, in theory, still resurrect Data, but you don’t want to bring him into a world that has banned his species. Which implies that if I died, you could, in theory, resurrect me.”

“Not if you’re in the dead zone when you die.”

“Yes, true. But if a transporter can create copies of people or hold a pattern in a buffer for 80 years, I’m fairly sure you can copy a pattern and hold it in a buffer as insurance against my death in a place you cannot reach.”

“Are you giving me permission to do that?”

“I’m saying yes. To your request. But not now. I’m still alive now, and I have obligations here. I’m not ready to give up my human existence and leave behind everyone I’ve ever known or cared for… yet. But you’re quite right. The nature of mortality says that sooner or later… I will, whether I want to or not.”

“You’re saying yes?” Q looked stunned.

Picard smiled. “I realize that my saying yes to you is an unusual occurrence, but it’s hardly unheard of.”

“I just…” Q shook his head. “I should have known. I picked you for the ability to think outside the constraints of the human condition. I’ve known all along that I could take you at the moment of your death, assuming you’re not inside the dead zone, but I didn’t realize you knew, and I didn’t think you’d give me permission.”

“There’s nothing about death, per se, that’s particularly marvelous,” Picard said dryly. “As a species, mortality gives us a reason to strive, while we live. As an individual… I can’t live forever as a human, and I shouldn’t, and I don’t want to. But from the perspective of everyone I care for, there’s no difference whether I die and cease to exist, or whether I become a new form of life but break my ties with my former existence. And…” He swallowed. “If there is any chance, any chance at all, that I can prevent what happened to Romulus from happening to other worlds… yes. Yes, very few sacrifices are too great for that. I’m willing to give up my death, and my humanity upon my death, to try to prevent war in the Q Continuum.”

“But you’re not willing to give up what remains of your life.”

“No. Soji is beyond your reach, you’ve said so. I presume the Zhat Vash are mostly beyond your reach as well. And I don’t want you stepping in to solve my problems, anyway.”

“Don’t friends help each other?”

“Yes. But friends also don’t demand godlike exercises of power from friends. You thought I’d be upset with you because you tried to save Data, and you failed, because of the bomb. Data wouldn’t have expected that of you and neither would I… alternate timelines regardless. Perhaps my grief was more raw when I said what I said in that other timeline, or perhaps you made me so angry I lashed out. Here and now, though… I want you to understand. You are not my friend because of what you can do for me, with your powers. I’ve never wanted you to do anything for me with your powers; the only time I ever called on you it was because billions of lives were at stake, and that was worth more than my pride as a human.”

“But Soji isn’t?”

Picard closed his eyes. “If you had the power to snap your fingers and ensure her safety, I might say yes, but you’ve told me you don’t. And I don’t want the Zhat Vash deciding to target the Q, not in your people’s weakened state… yes, I know, I know, you’re still omnipotent, we mere mortals can’t possibly hope to harm you, et cetera… but I know the Borg were attempting to work on a means of capturing and assimilating one of you, and that was before you had a war and invented weapons that work on your kind. I can’t rule out that the Zhat Vash could find a way to harm you if you turned your power on them as a blunt force instrument but didn’t have the power to find and stop them all.”

“I think that’s a silly thing to be afraid of, but I’m touched by your concern.” He said it as if it was sarcastic, but the expression on his face was tender. “But very well. I’ll stay out of your quest. I’ll let you live out however long you have, in your human life. I won’t do anything either to hasten or to prevent your death. And when you die, I’ll repair your mind if I have to, if Irumodic Syndrome has taken too much of it away, and I’ll make you a Q, and you’ll come to the Continuum with me to save my people, and your galaxy.”

“To try my best, at the very least,” Picard said.

Q smiled like a man who didn’t want to smile but couldn’t help himself. “You have no idea how delighted I am to hear that.” He spread his arms. “Hug?”

Picard chuckled. “I don’t do hugs, Q, I’m far too emotionally repressed for that. You know better.”

“I do, yes.” Q laughed… and then leaned in and kissed Picard on the cheek before Picard could stop him or back away. “Is that better? I understand you Frenchmen kiss each other like that all the time.”

“Two hundred years ago. Cultures change. We also don’t use expressions like ‘mon petit chou’ anymore.”

“I can’t call you my little cabbage?”

“Not without sounding hopelessly out of date and archaic.”

“You didn’t seem to mind the kiss, though.”

“I’m too old to let myself get riled up by your pranks,” Picard said, smiling broadly.

“What if it wasn’t a prank?”

“Then I’m too old to let myself get riled up by that, either.” He gripped Q’s arms by the elbows. “But don’t wait to come visit until I’m dead and it’s time for our bargain to come due. I’m going to worry about you if I don’t see you.”

Q shook his head. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Picard released him. “And if you want to propose to me, you have to wait until we’re on the same form of existence. The stress of trying to arrange a wedding at my age really could kill me.”

Q choked on laughter for a moment. “Well, in English, ‘commitment’ is another term for being locked up in the funny farm, and that about sums up how I feel about marriage. But I’ll be absolutely sure to take you out on a few dates while you’re still human. Wine and dine you while it matters.”

“I look forward to it.” Picard glanced at the holographic replica of a clock. It wasn’t moving. Of course not. “Well, whether you have stopped time or not, apparently I am still growing tired, and the hour was late when you came to visit. I need to return to bed.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your beauty sleep, mon amiral.”

“I think I liked ‘mon capitaine’ better.”

“I did too. You never should have let them promote you.”

Picard shrugged. “Time moves forward. We can’t desperately cling to the past, even if it made us happier. Life gives us no choice but to keep growing and changing. Even you, I think.”

“Yes.” Q nodded in agreement. “Even me.”

“Take care of yourself, Q.”

“I’d tell you to do the same, Jean-Luc, but I know you won’t. Not while there are still swashes to buckle and fair maidens to save.”

“Well. I’ll charge into danger without much regard for the odds against me, but I promise to take care of my health, at least.”

“That’s the best I’ll get out of you, I suppose.” Q grinned, and manufactured a hat, obviously so he could tip it. “Until next time, then.”

And he was gone.

#picard/q #tapestry day #alara posts fanfic #picard #q (star trek)

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wykart · 5 years

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Does it Matter? (It’s Klaus)

Part 2 of Fifty-one years (and one day) later (read on ao3)

I've made this a sequel rather than the next chapter of the fic because I was really happy with the way that 'Fifty-one years (and one day) later' ended, and wanted it to be read as a self-contained (relatively short) story. However, I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen next in this version of events!

So, if you want more of this timeline, and are ready for some MAJOR angst, then continue at your own risk :) I hope you enjoy!

Summary: The truth comes out, and Klaus must come to grips with the fact that his entire life of happiness with Dave was taken away by his own brother.

2 days, 16 hours

He took the briefcase back up to his room after he was done lecturing them all. He finally had them all gathered in one place, and he had a lead on who was going to cause the apocalypse. He’d had to… circumvent a couple of things to get them all here, all ready for what was coming, but it was all trivial in relation to the extinction of the human race. Well, that’s what he told himself anyway. He dusted off the case and tucked it under his bed. The shrapnel still embedded in his side sent a pulse of white hot pain through him as he bent over. He couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he would be no use to the others if his wound got worse and he was put out of commission for hours, even days… that wouldn’t do. He resolved, however reluctantly, to talk to Mom about patching it up. She may have been a robot, but her first aid training was impeccable.

...

2 days, 14 hours

Five had sent the other three off on errands of their own – Diego and Allison to dig up data on Harold Jenkins from the local police station, and Luther to search through Dad’s research for something about that impending apocalypse good’ol’Reggie would always work into the odd lecture or grandiose speech. Klaus, on the other hand, was useless. He couldn’t be trusted with anything important, and for good reason. Five had said that all of them needed to be together to stop this thing, but Klaus felt like he could’ve slunk away into the shadows without any of them noticing. He’d turned up after being missing for a day, a few shades darker, hair shorter, new tattoos and muscles and everything, and Five had been the only one who’d noticed.

That’s where he was going now, to see Five. He wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help – not that he particularly cared about helping – just to clear his conscience so he could laze around guilt-free. There was that, and the fact that Five seemed hurt. He’d been clutching his side earlier, limping like he was injured. He wasn’t the sort to admit when something was wrong with him, to show signs of weakness.

It was strange to see Five’s old room occupied again, they’d kept the door shut for so many years, never wanting to renovate or reuse the space, never wanting to admit that he was really gone. There was some crazy math shit on the walls that made Klaus’ head spin, and that creepy mannequin was smiling at him from the bed. He didn’t want to think about what his little (way older) brother and that mannequin got up to at night.

The bed was covered in dirt, and Klaus followed the trail down to the floorboards, leading under the bed. There was a pretty battered looking black briefcase under there, but Klaus knew better than to open it this time. So Five had one after all, then why had he been so angry at Klaus for destroying the last one? And why had he bothered using a fake briefcase just yesterday when he met up with those psychos from the motel? He turned the object over in his hands, there was damp, dark mud covering the bottom corners – and it was fresh. There were sticky strips all over it, where duct tape had been pulled off, taking some of the black coat with it. It was scratched up, worn out, not like the pristine, perfect box Klaus had used. In fact, he could have sworn that pattern of scratches where the very same that Klaus had dug in with his nails during his nervous nights in the jungle, clutching it, reminding himself of where he’d been, and of what he’d decided to give up but never brought himself to let go. One of the latches was missing from the top of the case, as if it had snapped off at the axis. Suddenly, a rush of recognition shot through him and he rummaged in the pockets of his military vest, puling out a black hunk of plastic he’d found back in Vietnam. It had been lying in the jungle on the path back to the tent… just sitting there at the edge of the clearing where Klaus had lost everything. It fit perfectly in the space that the case’s missing latch had left behind – clearly, this was where it had come from. Had Five stolen this case from another of those time travelling bastards?

“Hey Ben, take a look at this,” He beckoned his brother over, who’d been leaning in the corner of the room, bored. “I found a piece of this case back in 1968, so whoever Five took this from was there that night.” He was perplexed - what would Five’s old time travelling buddies want with - “Dave.” He said, eyes staring off, far away, to another time. He heard the racket of gunfire ricocheting around his skull, the whistle of bombs dropping, the thundering of helicopter blades, screams and cries of triumph. His voice, strained against the uncaring din, screaming for help...

“Klaus?” Ben asked, leaning over him, his face knotted with concern. Klaus pulled his hands from over his ears, wiping away the beginnings of tears that had been forming in his eyes.

“I’m okay,” he lied. “It’s just, Luther said that Five’s old employers were all about ‘correcting the timeline’ or whatever. I stole their briefcase time machine thingy, and I’ll bet they knew about it too.”

“So you think, what-“

“They came to kill me, or at least get the case back.”

Ben thought for a moment. He hadn’t been there with Klaus during those months, being negative-twenty-one years old and all. He’d only spent a night wondering where Klaus had gone when he’d disappeared on the bus, wondering if he would ever rematerialise. He’d been so happy when he found Klaus again, knowing that he wouldn’t be banished from this plane of existence for good, wouldn’t have to face the fact that he no longer existed in any real sense. He’d been happy, until he saw the blood on his hands and the hurt in his eyes - the tan and the tattoos and the fresh wave of grief he was drowning in. Of course, he’d never met Dave, but he could tell how much he meant to Klaus - a shred of hope and normalcy found in the least normal of situations - and even that had been taken away. “So you think they killed Dave?”

“I think they came to kill me, and Dave just got in the way.” They way Klaus was looking at him, begging him to prove him wrong, it was heart breaking.

“I... don’t think that makes a lot of sense,” he considered, pacing around the room. He used to spend so much time here as a kid, with Five and sometimes Vanya, taking a moment of peace away from their more rambunctious siblings. “They’re supposed to be professionals, I doubt they’d miss. What if they were trying to get the case back here, to the present where it belonged.”

“So then, they killed Dave?” Klaus was trying to puzzle it out. The fact that such an organisation existed at all was a troubling notion. It might have even caused him some form of existential distress if he wasn’t already so deep in a pit of self-loathing and nihilistic indifference that he didn’t care anymore.

“Well, wasn’t he the reason you stayed? You told me you only stuck around because of him, what if they knew that?” Ben tried to pretend that he wasn’t hurt by this notion - he was dead, after all, and didn’t make for great company. Would Klaus really have abandoned him? More importantly, would he really have abandoned everyone else?

…

“Klaus?” Five was standing in the doorway to his bedroom, watching Klaus fiddling with the briefcase he’d stowed under there. He was muttering to himself, like he so often did. A shot of panic ran through Five’s thoughts, but he promptly reminded himself that there was no way that Klaus could retain any memories from his un-lived life, there was no way he could know. “What are you doing?”

Klaus jumped and looked around to see Five standing there, the shrapnel now removed from his gut and bandaged up. “Oh, hey there Five, I thought you’d be busy, you know, stopping the apocalypse and all.”

“I came to get my gun, In case you forgot, I have someone to kill today.”

“Right, of course,” he hummed to himself for a moment, clearly not getting the hint that Five wanted him to leave, “won’t that look a little suspicious though, I mean, you’re a little schoolboy walking down the street with a hunting rifle,” he giggled, “might turn some heads.”

Five knew that Klaus was just trying to get on his nerves, it was one of his very few talents, but Five didn’t rise to the bait. He only sighed and walked over the threshold, Klaus’ eyes trained on him all the while.

“Where did you get this?”

“What?” He sighed, not looking forward to another trivial discussion.

“The briefcase.” Five’s stomach turned. “What about it? I got it from my employers, same place Hazel and Cha-Cha got their’s.”

“Looks a bit battered up though, wouldn’t you say, not like Chazel and Ha-ha’s at all.” He looked up and began muttering to himself, as if an invisible person was standing by his side - maybe there was. “See, I’m not traumatised, I don’t even remember their names,” he laughed, hollow and forced. Five rolled his eyes.

“Get to the point, Klaus, I’m kinda busy here.”

“I just want to know who’s briefcase this is. See this,” He held up the broken off piece of the latch, waving it in the air, “I found this in the middle of a battlefield in the Vietnam war.” Five shrugged his shoulders, doing is best to feign disinterest.

“Huh,” Klaus murmured, studying Five’s expression, “you’re not surprised?”

“What are you talking about?” He was on edge, had he slipped up, was it possible that Klaus knew something?

“Well, I never told you I served in Vietnam, all I said was that I went back in time.” Shit. “You’re smart Five,” he continued, a smirk on his face at catching Five out, “but you’re not a mind reader - as far as I know anyway. And if you are I think you’re obligated to tell me because my thoughts are pretty fucked up and I’ll have to remember to tone them down for your young, naive ears.” Again, that laughter, the sound that masked the truth - that his mind was falling apart.

Five tried his best to mask his shock and think up a quick reply, but it was too late, his expression had already betrayed him. “Look Klaus, you’re a mess, I know it, you know it, we all know it,” Klaus nodded eagerly, smiling fondly to himself. Was this man capable of taking anything seriously? “You told me about Vietnam,” he lied, “you probably just forgot about it.”

“Did I?” He asked quietly, to no one in particular. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” He rounded on Five again, dragging himself to his feet. “Tell me the truth Five, it’s okay, I’m not Luther. I’m not going to lecture you about how,” he pouted, puffing our his chest and putting on a comically deep voice, “murder is wrong, number Five.” He paused, obviously expecting Five to laugh. “Okay,” he shrugged, murmuring under his breath again, “tough crowd. At least I know you appreciate me.” A moment of silence, then Klaus hissed at the empty air.

Five was starting to panic. If Klaus really did suspect him, why on earth was he being so cool about it? He knew that Klaus used humour as a coping mechanism, it was his defining characteristic, but this was a step on the side of lunacy. “What are you getting at?” He said, coldly.

“I’m just saying, if you killed this bastard, I want to know!” He exclaimed. Five realised he wasn’t talking about Dave. He thought that Five had killed the previous owner of the briefcase, the agent that he suspected had killed Dave instead. It hurt, a twist like a knife to the gut, that Klaus hadn’t even entertained the idea that Five had been the one to pull the trigger. “Come on Five,” he cooed, “did you kill the bastard who owned this case?”

“I did... in a way.” Because the man that Klaus had become was dead, fifty years of his life gone in a moment. Fifty years of happiness... But it had to be done. Allison and Diego would be back any second now with the information he needed, if he could just stomach this conversation for a moment longer, he could leave facing the consequences to another day. For now, it was essential that they all stick together, no matter if all that held them in place was lies.

“Well, congratulations man,” Klaus’ earnest smile made Five feel sick. He trusted him, completely. Klaus looked down at the floor, the light in his eyes suddenly drained out. “But that means,” he murmured, “that means it really was my fault.”

“What?” Five asked.

“Well, if those guys go around correcting the timeline, then they were there for me - God I was so selfish,” he put his head in his hands, burying his face, trying to hide away. “I thought I could just stay there and forget about all of this and I loved him and then... he died for it. He died because of me. This is all my fault.” His shoulders shook with silent sobs. It tore Five apart. “Why do I have to ruin everything?” He muttered, breaking down. “Why couldn’t I just leave him alone, he was better off, everything would be better off if I just-“

“Klaus.” Five said, trying to get through to him.

Klaus seemed to remember that Five was standing there, watching all of this unfold. “Fuck, Five I’m sorry,” he sniffed, trying compose himself, “thanks for what you did, even though you didn’t do it for me or anything, I mean, why would anyone do that?” He laughed again, that same hollow, pleading cry for help.

“Don’t say that,” he muttered, but Klaus didn’t seem to hear. “Please, please don’t say that,” because Five could feel his will unravelling.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so useless with this whole apocalypse thing,” Klaus said, “I’ll get my shit together, okay? I’ll actually be useful for once, just give me something to do.” And there it was, Five had him right where he wanted him - but he couldn’t take it. He’d been a fool to think that forty-five years away from this place had desensitised him to all the weakness that came with love and empathy. Despite everything he’d tried to bury, when loving had been too painful, Five still cared. It was as if two facets of himself were locked in a game of tug of war, the part that had suffered through the future and knew what had to be done, and the part that couldn’t stand seeing his brother broken like this; the way he blamed himself and felt indebted to him despite the damage Five had done to him. Was the world worth this? No matter the cost, he decided that it was.

Klaus was still standing there, smiling tearfully, and despite everything that Five stood for, that to love was reckless, that it brought only danger and pain, that the truth was worshipped like a false idol, relative, irrelevant, his to twist to more important ends... he couldn’t stand it any longer.

“It was me,” He muttered, barely more than a whisper. Klaus looked at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation. There was no turning back now. “I killed Dave.”

#tua #the umbrella academy #ua #umbrella academy #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #klaus hargreeves #au #roleswap #five hargreeves #number five #the seance #klave #dave katz #ben hargreeves #angst

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singingpeople · 5 years

Text

Undoing - Chapter 7

tagging:

@jojuarez26 @love17mwh @tigpooh67 @bookwarm85 @trishevans @lets-play-truth-or-dare @deepfrz @carefultheyspit @iammarylastar @beautifulramblingbrains

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****massive trigger warning****

And yeah, I've seen you in my head every fucking day since I left You on the floor with your hands 'round your head And I'm down and depressed All I want is your head on my chest Touching feet in my bed I'm eleven minutes away and I have missed you all day I'm eleven minutes away, so why aren't you here?

You're eleven minutes away and I have missed you all day You're eleven minutes away, so why aren't you here?

The darkness surrounding me didn't want to budge. No matter how hard I tried to surface it always pulled me back under until I was floating again; weightless in a dimension that was all my own. There, neither time nor space mattered. There was no fear, no angry thoughts, just a divine me that did not care for trivial happenings.

I tried shaking it off, but it clung to me. As if it wouldn’t want to let me go. That’s when I realized, I wouldn’t like waking up.

Not at all.

At one point, when the urgency inside my chest got stronger, I could almost open my eyes. But they were like lead; someone had glued them shut and I felt myself sink deeper again.

An eternity later, the veil slowly started to lift and I regained some consciousness of my body, how my fingers felt, lying on a not quite soft blanket; the pillow underneath my head flat.

There was something slung over my face, leading to my nose. It felt cool and I realized it was a supply of oxygen. Something sticky, restraining on my hand; tape, most likely from an IV. My left hand in a cast – even with healing serum it would take weeks for it to fully heal. My head hurt, as well as my shoulder and every part of me, felt sore. But the worst of all these dull pains was the emptiness inside me. For a moment, I thought it was just in my head, that overwhelming sense of loneliness – of being all alone in this city full of strangers. But when my hand wandered down, to rest on the non-existent bump, I knew it wasn't just in my head.

Slowly opening my eyes, blinking to get through the fog I stared down on my body; on the hand that was resting on my now flat again stomach.

I pressed my head back into the pillow, swallowing tightly.

I had known it. From the beginning on, I had known it. When that doctor handed me the black and white image of that little blip… something inside me had known that this would go wrong. That I would not get my happy end.

It hurt.

It hurt like hell.

But the sadness, the grief, the guilt were all numbed by the resignation I felt. Had felt all along. I know why I hadn't been so joyous, so happy like a mother-to-be should be. There was a reason I hadn't told Eric.

That voice inside me that doubted everything from the beginning. The one that was now sitting in her rocking chair, feet crossed and one eyebrow raised. ‘I told you so.’,head shake, expression resigned she turned away, leaving me to wallow in my pity.

And like always she had been proven right.

It hurt to admit, but maybe some things weren’t for everyone… and maybe happiness was one of these things.

I don’t know how long I laid there, staring at the ceiling with my hand on my stomach when the large glass door to my room was pushed open. A nurse came inside, bustling around, checking the machines before turning to me. Her blue scrubs were a stark contrast to the white room.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” She gave me a smile but her expression was still business, this was her job, nothing more.

I tried clearing my throat, it felt incredibly dry. I knew, had known all along but I had to ask. Sometimes you needed the finality of words. So your mind would understand. So you would understand.

Some things only became real once they were spoken out loud.

“My… child…”

“I’m sorry,” A tight-lipped smile, fake-empathy. “there was nothing we could do. The placenta ruptured, you lost a lot of blood and it was only four months old. No surgery in this world could have saved it.”

“O-okay.” Licking over my parched lips, I nodded. A heaviness had settled in my stomach and I waited for a wave of grief to hit me. But it didn’t come.

All I felt was numbness. “Wha-what’s the…verdict?”

“You mean your injuries?” She asked, grabbing the tablet and opening my chart when I nodded. “Let’s see…” She mumbled, swiping over the screen. “You have a concussion, a badly bruised shoulder, an old rip-fracture that we had to fix along with a newer one. Your left wrist was broken, we put a cast on it; a sprained ankle, a few older scabs on your back and of course, the miscarriage.”

Shakily exhaling, I bit into my cheek. Knowing you were fucked and hearing how fucked you were are two different things. No wonder my body felt as if it had been split in two with a blunt axe and then sewed back together.

This didn’t feel like me. This wasn’t me.

Something horrible as this, couldn’t happen to me… Or, could it?

When I didn’t answer her, nor showed any sign of understanding, the nurse cleared her throat. My eyes flew up to her.

“I’m going to get you some ice-chips.” Typing something into the screen beside my head, she left the room.

As soon as the door fell shut behind her, I stopped pretending and let myself sink back into the hard mattress. I laid there, just staring at the ceiling, not really comprehending that this was my reality. That everything wasn’t a strange, realistic dream but really had happened. It just didn’t feel… real to me.

But at the same time, I felt the despair gorging on my insides. The black pit in my stomach made it impossible to cry. I had collapsed, like a dying star. All that was left was a black hole, devouring everything in its path.

A lone tear ran down my cheek as I closed my eyes and turned around, wishing for that darkness to take me back.

Unwillingly, I had slept through the biggest scandal this city had ever seen. Once the nurses had made sure I was stable and had given me ice to calm my parched throat after I received another shot of healing serum and several others, like birth control and the likes, they talked about what was going to happen to them, now that erudite was under investigation.

I had perked up at that, asking them what happened and they glanced at each other, unsure if they should share their knowledge. Damn noses.

In the end, their need to show me their superiority won.

“Strange.” The second one said, raising her eyebrows. “I know you’ve been unconscious but it basically all revolves around you and why you are lying in this bed.”

“What revolves around me?” I had asked, already going over all the fucked up secrets buried inside my head. A little reluctant, they had relented to my requests, to my need to know everything and for once I didn’t give a fuck about being humble and selfless or about not showing weakness and ask for help.

I wanted to know what the fuck had happened after hepushed me down the stairs and left me there, lying in a sea of my own blood.

I closed my eyes, but the image of him, smiling down at me with his hand around my throat was burned into my retina.

The way it felt, tumbling down a seemingly endless flight of stairs, the cold wood underneath my fingers, then – wet grass. And a pair of warm, gentle hands turning my face around, brushing over my forehead…

If it hadn’t been for her… Who knows how long it would have taken someone to find me.

I closed my eyes, thankful that I had been brave enough to overcome my prejudices and talk to her. That one moment, that one decision had turned her into my savior.

Sighing, nurse two walked towards the screen in the upper left corner of the room and turned it on. It flickered, before coming to life. She didn't have to search for long. Apart from the old channels that played series and movies about a strange, modern world before the war, there were only two other channels, one for emergencies.

And the emergency broadcast they had talked about was playing on loop all day long.

Hands balled to fists, squeezing the blanket between them I stared onto the screen where hewas, standing on a make-shift stage in front of the office building where the abnegation government was held, behind him, united, all of the elders that held high-ranking positions.

He stepped forward, his face serious, a hint of sadness marking his features, hands crossed over the grey vest that hid his pouch – a tell-tale sign of his selfishness; of his over-indulgence in food.

He had always known how to act.

“There was an attack on our government last night.” He spoke, his sickly melodic voice making my skin crawl, as I watched the emergency video they had released two days ago. “Last night, a factionless, who we have cared and feed for as long as abnegation exists, broke into my house, expecting to find me there. Instead,” He paused and I swallowed. This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t fucking serious.

But he was, his expression hardening as if he really was angry at that made-up factionless.

“Instead, he surprised my assistant in her sleep, overpowered, and pushed her down the stairs.” I closed my eyes in horror. There it was. My shame. Laid out for everyone to see.

What good dauntless would let herself be overpowered by a fucking factionless?

“Badly hurt, she managed to make her way out to the front where she was found by our members, who made sure she got to the hospital and then came to alert me in my office, where I had been working late on a report.

That factionless,” He paused for theatrical reasons, voice full of regret when he dropped the bomb that put the whole city into turmoil. “was sent in a secret mission by dauntless and erudite.”

Oh,he was good.I could very well imagine the outcry this had caused in amity and candor. And of course, under the rightful members of Dauntless, maybe even erudite.

“Please, don’t get this the wrong way.” He continued, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture. “These factions as a whole are not to blame! I do not, nor have I ever doubted the leader’s loyalty to our government, our city. It just seems that a parallel society has developed without our knowledge that strives for power. A power they should never be granted. With all my heart, I hope that we are able to stop this poison running through the veins of our society and I believe, I know that throughout investigations will lead to the banishment of these insurgents and all their mislead ideals.”

He stopped speaking, standing tall and proud, like an honest man that he would never be. Suddenly, his expression hardened and that look I knew too well. It promised war.

“Otherwise, when we do get informed of troop movements from dauntless that threaten our city, we in Abnegation have to use the only weapon we have ever possessed.

We do not want to, not at all, but we won’t hesitate to retaliate

This city’s history is too valuable, too important to be forgotten.

But we will do what we have to.

If the only way to save our system is to wipe the memory of every single soul in this city, then so be it.

Faction before Blood.”

The screen went black and all I could do was stare at it. I was lost for words.

I wasn’t even surprised, that he had managed to twist every event, every argument, until it fit into his plan, into the illusion that was Marcus Eaton. Like a spider, he had carefully woven his web and caught the little fucking fly that was me. I was just a chess figure in a game I didn’t understand. A notch in his game plan to discredit his biggest foes. A bug, that was crushed under Jeanine Matthew’s gigantic ego.

A little girl that Max threw into the river to drown.

I didn’t even get what they were fighting over. I didn’t understand.

I had been sent to abnegation to find out if they were withholding supplies from the other factions; if they had secrets worth exposing, a reason to start a war.

But the only secret I had found, the only secret worth exposing would be my own undoing, my shame, my weakness.

I laid my head back onto the pillow.

Now, that everything had gotten out, just another way, maybe I could finally go home. Or what used to be home…

No one would look at me the same way and I would have to earn their respect again. To show, I wasn’t a stiff. That much I knew.

But was I dauntless?

Or had I become undone?

Lost in thought, I had forgotten all about the two nurses in my room.

“Don’t worry,” Number one said, glancing at me while checked the cast splinting my left wrist. “they have the girl who did it.”

I whipped my head towards her.

“What?” Blinking, I couldn’t make sense to her words. “What girl?”

“The one they found kneeling beside you.” She glanced at nurse number two. “Maybe you can’t remember, you hit your head pretty hard.”

“No!” I exclaimed, staring from one to the other in horror. Slowly, I started realizing what exactly they meant. “What do you mean, they have her in custody?!”

“Ehhrm,” Put off by my outbreak, she slowly inched away from me. “We got told that an envoy from candor will come by later, along with a higher ranking dauntless member. And that they found the girl kneeling beside you. That there is nothing for you to be afraid of, they have the culprit.”

“No!” I gasped, pushing myself up, ignoring their protests. “They don’t! That wasn’t her!”

“What do you mean?” It was obvious they didn’t quite believe me – or thought I had hit my head too hard to make sense. “Of course it was her. What else would a factionless do in abnegation?”

“She just found me, lying on the grass, okay?” The two of them were agitating to no end. Why was it so hard to get them to understand that despite her status, she was still a good person, a decent human being? “She is a friend of mine!”

This time their shared glances spoke of nothing but disdain.

“A factionless girl?”

“Yes.” My voice hardened as I stared them down, defiantly raising my chin. “I gave her my clothes and I always meet her when we hand out food. Her name is Luna. If she hadn’t found me, I don’t think I would have made it…”

“Alright.” Nurse two raised her hand in surrender. “Let’s just get you ready. You can tell the people that really need to know.”

I nodded, rolling my eyes. Fine. I didn’t want to spend more time with them than necessary, either. It didn’t take long for me to get decent, they had already washed me when I had been unconscious. I got a bowl of water, a small towel and a brush. After I was clean, even though clean was relative when you couldn’t use a shower, they helped me into my underwear, a pair of grey shorts and an oversized shirt that wouldn’t constrict any of the bandages.

It wasn’t much but thank god for small favors.

Ten minutes later, the nurses informed me that the members from candor and dauntless had arrived and it didn’t take long until the door to my room opened again. Nurse one lead a candor, a haughty, tall blonde woman into the room - followed by none other than Max himself.

Not really trusting my eyes, I blinked, staring at my former leader. His expression was unreadable and he stayed behind her, arms crossed over his chest, everything about him was dark. A stark contrast to the white behind him.

The candor introduced herself, but I didn't pay attention to her name, my mind still to occupied with the man behind her. I couldn't look away from him. First lesson: never turn your back to your enemy.

She cleared her throat and my gaze flew to her. Giving me a tight smile, she started speaking.

“I am really sorry to bother you so shortly after waking up, Casey. I hope this is alright.” I nodded, telling her that I was fine. She knew how a lie sounded like but let it slide. Once again clearing her throat she got down to business. Blunt and to the point.

"You surely understand, that after Marcus' accusations, this, your report as a witness has become our first priority. This is the reason why Max has agreed to join me, knowing this matter is too important as that a normal dauntless could have handled it.”

“Of course.” I gave them a tight smile, feeling my lips crack. With the help of the nurse, I sat up, pulling the blanket up to my chest, over the tent they called shirt. Between those two, the honest and the traitor, I felt more than just exposed. I cleared my throat, coughing lightly.

“There is one thing you have to know now though.” Max tensed in his spot behind her, staring at me. I tried to ignore his gaze burning through my face, daring me to speak out of turn. He tried to mask it, but I could tell he was nervous.

Afraid that I would expose him.

I could have… that moment I could have told the candor everything and there was nothing Max could have done in a hospital full of people.

But I didn’t. My loyalty for dauntless was still too big to betray them in such a manner.

“You have a girl in your custody, right?”

“Yes.” The candor nodded. “A factionless.”

“Luna?” I asked and she nodded, surprised. “It wasn’t her. She didn’t attack me.” I declared and the candor furrowed her brows.

“What do you mean? She was kneeling beside you when your faction members found you.”

“Yes, she called them." I made sure that she understood. "Luna found me after I made it outside. The man who attacked me… a- a factionless man at least twice my size broke into the house. He came into my room, where I was sleeping, he… hit me and then he dragged me to the stairs." Closing my eyes for a moment, I swallowed heavily. "He hit me again, asking where M-Marcus was and then he pushed me…” Staring at the wall, I felt the scenes resurface again. “I was lying on the foot of the stairs. He came down, saw me lying there, stepped over me and left through the door. I managed to drag myself outside where Luna found me. Please,” I added, pleading with them. “Don’t hurt her. She just tried helping me. Without her, the others wouldn’t have found me.”

“Okay.” She smiled at me. “I’m going to make sure she will be released from the holding cell as soon as we’re done here.”

“Thank you.” My relief was instant.

“Good, so let’s start from the beginning.”

“So, why don’t you tell us about the evening itself, for now?” The woman started, a recorder placed on the small table, a notebook in hand. Max was just staring at me, his head tilted. He stayed quiet, while the woman beside him asked the questions, observing, judging.

I started telling them half-the-truth, trying to remember what Marcus had said. That everything was dark and Marcus had left after dinner. About a factionless that came into my room while I was asleep. He grabbed me out of my bed, threatened me and when I couldn’t give him what he needed, he pushed me down the stairs.

“What was it?” The candor asked. “What was it that he needed?!”

I stared at her, blinking. I had no fucking idea. “I – I don’t know… I can’t remember…” I stumbled, staring down at the blanket I had been fiddling with the whole time. “It was something Marcus was supposed to have, I think… Something imaginary.” Letting my gaze wander to Max, I looked him in the eye. “Something that doesn’t exist.”

“You seem to remember that quite well, though.” His voice rang through the room and the candor stopped taking notes to look at him, too. “

“That’s the thing though.” I countered. “He confused me. He didn’t know what exactly he was searching for, either. He just knew it was supposed to be in the house. Not where or what… just that he needed it badly. He was lunatic… searching for something that never did and never will exist.”

“Like what?” The candor asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“How on earth should I know what a mad man wanted from me, other than that he was willing to risk my life for it.” Looking at her, I just shrugged my shoulders. “There is nothing more I can help you with.”

I hope that message hit home. From the corner of my eye, I saw max shifting, his fists balled. How easy it was, to anger

“Are you sure?” She asked and when I nodded, she sighed, closing her notebook. She turned to Max. “If you’ll wait, I’m going to talk to the doctor real quick.” Max nodded and she left the room, being lead down the corridor by nurse one while two busied herself in another room.

Suddenly, the temperature in the room seemed to drop and I wished they hadn’t left me alone with him. Maybe, calling him a lunatic while he was in the same room hadn’t been the best idea.

The sound of the glass door being pulled shut raked a shiver down my spine and I swallowed, steeling myself for what I knew would come.

I could only hope for mercy.

For a moment, everything was silent except for the quiet beeping of the heart monitor. Max’ back was turned to me as he made sure, we truly were alone, that no one would interrupt us. When he turned around, my stomach fell.

Instead of the distant, indifferent expression, he had masked so carefully while the others were in the room, his eyes were hard, his anger starting to bleed through.

Slowly, so I could watch every single one of his steps, feel them resonate through my body he stepped forward until he stood over me; the ultimate position of power.

“You told him.” His voice was icy and he tilted his head, not once breaking eye contact. It wasn’t a question. I inhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose. This really was too much for one day. I just wanted it to end already. I wanted Max to get the fuck out of my room.

This. All of this was his fault.

Not to mention, he wasn’t the leader I wanted to see so desperately…

“Max, listen…” I started, shaking my head slowly, exhausted. I didn’t know what to tell him. He was right. I had fear let get the better of me and exposed everything I had given my life for. “There was no evidence whatsoever. Abnegation isn’t hoarding anything. There are no secrets or conspiracies… they're just living their life!"

“You just didn’t look closely enough!” Max shook his head, his face pulled up in disgust. “And to think, I once thought you were our best initiate…”

His words hit me hard. I felt my lip quivering and bit down, trying to keep my emotions in check. I failed.

“Of course I did!” I hissed, leaning forward to stare him down. “I did nothing else but count and search through these fucking houses, Max! I was there when we got the food and I was there when it was either handed out to members or factionless! You saw the numbers yourself! Nothing was wrong with them! There was not a single piece of bread they kept to themselves!

They’re humble people, they did nothing wrong. Just because you do not like the results, doesn’t mean I didn’t risk everything for them, Max! I risked everything for you!”

Staring at me, Max suddenly started laughing. A laugh that made my blood run cold. “Not enough.”

Swallowing tightly, I slowly repeated his words. “Not enough?”

“No.” Licking over his lips, Max bared his teeth at me. “Do you have a fucking idea what you did, Casey? Because of you, Dauntless and Erudite are under investigation! Do you even have the slightest clue what we had to do

“That’s not my fault.” Voice shaking, I glared at him. “You are the one that threatened to wipe out a whole faction because of your misled ideals! Max. This isn’t dauntless! Being brave doesn’t mean being cruel, being fearless doesn’t mean being heartless! Eric knows tha– “

“Eric.” He interrupted me, chuckling harshly. “Is the most heartless motherfucker of them all. And you seem to have lost every last ounce of honor you had in your body. A real dauntless would not throw her faction to the wolves. Wouldn’t make friends with stiffs or factionless scum! And a real dauntless would never cower away from a mission, no matter how hard or futile it may seem!”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about – “ My voice was harsh, my anger bleeding through but he silenced me with one wave of his hand. I wanted to tell him that a real dauntless wouldn’t strive for power, no matter the cost. A real dauntless wouldn’t send a dependent to do his dirty work. A real dauntless wouldn’t risk the lives of those he swore to protect.

But I couldn’t get a word out.

I looked up into his face and his expression genuinely scared me.

It was cold and emotionless. Calculated.

He was the stronger one and he knew it.

There were two people in this room – and one of them held all the power.

Silenced, I swallowed while the trepidation ran through my veins. This wasn’t going to end well. Showing his teeth, Max’ smile was scarier than the glare he shot me.

"Well, good for you that you have taken a liking to abnegation." Max sneered before his smile became icy. “Since you have no choice than to stay there or become factionless.” Interrupting himself for a short moment, Max swirled the words around on his tongue, tasting their power; his superiority, my undoing. “You did not keep your promise, our deal is void.”

Mouth open, I stared at him not really understanding…

“No! Max, wait!” I gasped, when he straightened up, staring down at me through harsh, cold eyes.

“Look at it as a fitting punishment for being a traitor. You will never be dauntless again.” He was out the door before I could fully comprehend what exactly he had said but when I did, it slammed into my chest like a freight train.

“NO! MAX, PLEASE…” I screamed, trying to get off the bed but failed, the pain in my lower abdomen too bad. For a moment, I expected him to come back and tell me this was all a bad joke. That I could still go home. To my parents, to my mother who made pancakes every Sunday. To Lynn and Marlene and Uriah and Macy, my friends that loved me unconditionally. To Eric and all the times, we spent hiding away in dark nooks and his office.

To my old me that was waiting somewhere, hidden behind the thick rocks of Dauntless.

But Max didn’t come back. I was all alone, on my own, like I had been that moment I stepped into the office. Like the moment, my blood hit stone. Like the moment, my feet were dangling over the edge and he threatened to let go.

They had doomed me.

Now, there truly wasn’t any going back again.

Everything, from losing my family, losing my friends, Eric, our childand now even my faction and with that all hope I had of ever returning to my old life, it returned at once and I knew I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t do this anymore.

I couldn’t…

I couldn’t breathe.

Clawing on my neck, I tried to suck in oxygen, to inhale the sweet air but my lungs were so painfully constricted, it felt as if they had collapsed. Gasping for breath, the wild beeping of the monitor beside me was mere background noise as I ripped on all the tubes that surrounded me, kicking the blanket off the bed.

I had to get out of here.

I would not die in here.

Alarmed by the heart monitor going off, after I had ripped the electrodes from my skin, two nurses came rushing in, gripping my hands, pushing me back on the bed.

“What is wrong?” One of them asked concerned, pushing my wrists to the bed. She should have been never able to do that, I was so much stronger than her!

“Can’t…” I just got out, still struggling in their grip.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with her lungs?” One asked, but the other shook her head, trying to restrain me back to the bed.

“It looks more like a panic attack.” The second one said, her voice quiet in my ears.

Everything was getting hazy, which had a fresh surge of adrenalin flood my veins. Ripping my right arm up, it painfully collided with the face of the nurse and I felt her nose break under the force. Cursing, her hands shot up and she turned away, trying to quench the gushing blood. But I had no chance using her distraction. A needle was pushed into the tender skin of my neck and before I could protest, before I could try to escape this nightmare my life had become, I had sunk back into the bed, my eyelids drooping shut.

All I remembered thinking that moment was, that maybe I was better not ever waking up again.

That night, standing in the bathroom of the hospital room, I raised the scissors – and cut off my hair until it ended up just over my shoulder. I stared at the stranger in front of me, dead eyes staring back. There was no fire left in her, no fight left.

There was no old Casey, she had died the moment her blood dripped down on anything other than coal.

There was just this new one, this new me that I had to rebuild from the ground; this act I had to master to survive.

The new Casey had no home, no family, no real faction. She was living under the same roof as a monster; his plaything. She would no longer care for herself but for others. She would be resilient; bear whatever fate had in store for her.

She was selfless.

Grey.

And she didn’t give a fuck about her hair anymore.

The purple bags beneath my eyes didn’t go away. My hair, unwashed for the last one and a half weeks, hung down in uneven strands from where I had tried cutting it with the blunt hospital scissors. I did no longer care about vanity; nor about not angering him. I felt like, by now, the kiss of the belt would be a welcomed pain.

A welcome distraction.

Nothing could be worse than the black pit directly beneath my heart where a life had been growing; A life that had been brutally and maliciously ended by the man in front of me.

He didn’t scare me anymore; I don’t think anything could.

There was nothing worse he could do to me, than the things I had already suffered through by his hands.

It had been three weeks since I was released from the hospital; three and a half since I woke up on what I had placed in at the top five worst day’s of my life, ever.

He had visited once, for pretense purposes only. He was so insanely busy with leader’s business, now that he knocked two other factions out of the race for power.

Yes, his threat had been successful. Not two days later a total of six dauntless and four erudite had been heard, sentenced and exiled. I was mildly surprised they hadn’t been executed. Ten more people knowing the official story was bullshit and all.

Of course, none of them had been threats. They were just puppets in a game they didn’t even know existed. Just like me.

And as far as I was concerned, there were only four people in the whole city that knew the truth.

I was one of them.

But it didn’t protect me, not in the slightest. It bound me, enslaved me to a life I never wanted, to a man I hated, to a faction I didn’t belong to.

And heused it to his advantage. Having spent most of the week and today in dauntless, emergency sittings with the council and all leaders of the city, he had come home in an already bad mood. Seeing, I hadn't done anything all day enraged him further and he resumed to drowning his anger in alcohol – which only made it worse.

Sitting on the couch, just watching him walk up and down, stumbling over the carpet, slurring from all the alcohol he had consumed, I imagined him tumbling over and bursting open his head on the edge of the couch table. I would just stay here, tilt my head, watching the crimson red seep into that awful beige carpet.

“And now those bastards pretend,” He slurred, his gaze unfocused. “Now they pretend they didn’t try to usurp me.” He went on and on ranting, about how awful dauntless was; how the leaders didn’t take him for full; how they managed to enrage him with their complete disregard for his person.

I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. He was fucking getting on my last nerve.

"You're not a king," I muttered, asking myself how someone that stupid could be leading a whole city.

Strangely, he heard me over his muttering. He stopped short and slowly turned towards me, eyes in slits.

“What?” His threat was clear: for me to shut up.

“I said,” I repeated looking up at him, not bothering to hide the utmost hatred I felt for him. “You. Are. Not. A. King. You can’t be usurped.”

“Uh, the slut thinks she’s wise all of sudden.” His eyes flashed dangerously as they found their focus: me. Licking his lips in the most disgusting way, he bend forward. “Tell me, did you fuck a nose? Did he fuck some knowledge into you?”

He came closer, tilting his head at me, mouth open slightly. He was panting, a putrid stench clinging to him that made me sick.

His eyes started glinting.

“Who else did you fuck?”

Staring up at him through half-open lids, I just blinked, my face staying as passive as ever. “Whoever I wanted to fuck.” Coming to a halt right in front of me, his heavy breathing had the hair on my arms stand on edge.

“That’s what I thought.” He slurred, his uncoordinated fingers brushing a strand of hair beneath my ear. Flashing my teeth at him, I slapped his hand away. Getting up, I couldn’t meet his height but I would not let him look down on me anymore. I was not beneath him.

Again, he raised his hand, slowly inching towards me.

I met his gaze head on, chin raised in defiance.

“You touch me again, and by god, I will slit your throat tonight while you’re asleep.”

This made him smile. A sick smile; I could smell the alcohol in his breath hitting my face. Inching his face closer, until we were eye to eye, he smirked at me and I wanted nothing more than to claw his eyes out.

“We’ll see how good you’ll be at that with your wrists bound to my headboard.” As if it was a silent command, I drew back and threw my hand at him. But instead of it hitting him in the face, he captured it despite his drunkenness, squeezing my unbroken wrist until the bones were close to cracking. Like a woman possessed, a beast untamed, I threw myself at him, hitting, scratching at whatever part I could, not bothering to listen to my body that was screaming in pain still, my left hand not fully functional yet.

He stayed unfazed, letting me claw at his skin. He knew I was still weak; from all my injuries and the nights, I spent lying awake in bed, too numb to bother closing my eyes, while his perception of pain was numbed by the alcohol. I was a shell of my former self, no longer the dauntless no one dared to cross, with all these powerful men standing behind her, watching, protecting. I was all alone, at the mercy of this lunatic who had beat me senseless and killed my unborn child.

I did not speak his name out loud, didn’t even mention it in my thoughts.

He was unworthy to called man.

He deserved no name.

Feeling him shudder beneath me, for a moment, I was triumphant, thinking I had hurt him. But then, with the utmost disgust, I realized he was getting off on this. He was getting off, breaking me and everything I once was. I had to get out of this fucking house; even if it was just for this night. There was nowhere I could go

Trying with all my might to get away from him, I screamed as he gripped me by the hips and heaved me over his shoulder. I tried to kick him, bit his shoulder until I spit out his blood and let my fists rain down on his back. But there was no stopping him; no halting him as he carried me up the stairs, taking no regard that my head hit the railing, or that my hand was still broken as he bound it to his headboard, all of his weight holding me down as he sat on top of me, restraining my weak body. When he had secured me, making sure I would go nowhere, he got up and kicked the door shut behind him.

Opening the clasp of his belt, pulling it from his pants, he let it fall to the floor.

When he undid his vest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, I knew what was coming now. I had always known it would come to this.

There was nothing like this, to defile a woman so completely. The last weapon a man had to try and dominate a female completely; to show himself and the world that she was beneath him, his to take. With no regard to her feelings, without her consent.

An act of violence so vile, you could not ever forget it.

In this moment I swore something to myself.

No matter what he would do to my body, I would never grant him access to my soul.

Feeling the bed dip down beside me, I drew in a shaky breath, closing my eyes.

I would not go down without a fight.

It was slowly getting colder in the city, the nights weren’t as long anymore. Time had passed, three months now since I had lost my child. By now it would have been seven months old. I imagined how it would be, carrying that huge bump around everywhere I go, being able to talk and interact with my unborn child. How his little foot would look when he would kick outwards, how he would move inside me.

I never found out if it really was a boy, but in my imagination, it always was. A little Eric all for myself.

And another thing I learned. Time may have passed, but the pain did not. I tried distracting myself as often as possible, today being no different.

I was sitting on Natalie and Andrew Prior’s dining table, all of my fading and new bruises hidden beneath my grey sweater. I needed the warmth. Following my discharge from the hospital, I couldn’t stomach food very well and had lost quite a bit of muscle mass – not doing anything all day. They, as in most abnegation, still insisted I shouldn’t do any work, which was only underlined by the fact that I still couldn't do strenuous tasks. Which they didn't know, was the result of ongoing abuse, not the one I had already suffered through. Surprisingly, I found that Susan was a big help. She came almost every day, helping me cook and clean (meaning she did almost all of the work by herself) while I used the only time of the day I could relax a little to catch up on much-needed sleep.

For this, I was genuinely grateful.

She even cut my hair after seeing the mess I had left behind, claiming she couldn’t let me walk around like that. I had reveled in the feeling of the comb gliding through my hair, closed my eyes and pretended to be a little girl again. And that it was my mother gliding her hands through the thick strands, not a relative stranger that had become friend, then foe, then friend again.

I couldn’t make sense of all this.

One thing, that wasn't as nearly as complicated was my relationship to Natalie. I adored her because her home was the only place in the whole faction where I felt safe and sound. I spent as many afternoons here as possible.

Like always, she placed the mug in front of me first before sitting down herself. We did this quite regularly. I found that I could confide in Natalie; she was like a second mother to me and I knew, she felt the same way about me.

She still missed both of her children.

We hadn’t really talked about the night and everything that came after but I knew she was worried. She just was too polite to start the topic herself.

I sighed, pulling the mug closer before looking at her.

"Please, Natalie… Just say it. I know you've been holding it back for weeks now."

She hesitated for a second, then sighed herself.

“I’m really sorry what happened to you.” Natalie looked at me from over her cup, everything about her being motherly. “It must have been horrible.”

I swallowed. I didn’t know which night had been worse. I closed my eyes, pushing the images away from me. When I opened them again, I was met with a worried gaze. I gave her a slight smile, trying to swallow down my emotions.

Hesitating for a second, I decided it was time to tell her how I was really feeling. Maybe she would understand.

“It’s not just that…” I shook my head, not wanting to admit my weakness. “I should have been able to defend myself. It's all I have learned growing up. In Dauntless, I wouldn't have hesitated to attack first, to do everything to not let him get the better of me." I swallowed heavily. "It's like I don't know who I am anymore, it's like I've lost myself. As if everything that once made me brave was the black uniform."

“You know, that’s not true.” Natalie gripped my hands, squeezing them lightly before letting go again. “Bravery or selflessness, honesty or knowledge, kindness… There’s more to it than just wearing colored clothing. It’s attitude; how you carry yourself; how you treat others. It is your approach to life. And just because you failed once doesn’t mean you failed every single aspect of your life. You will try again, though I hope not like that, and you will overcome whatever was holding you back. You will be strong again, Casey.”

“But I feel so weak.” Dropping all pretense, I stared at the mug in my hands, craving the warmth of the unsweetened tea. It was the first time, in all my life that I admitted fear. And strangely, it was more than just admitting that I had failed the values I had been feed on since being just a toddler. It was liberating.

I was finally able to breatheagain.

Natalie pinched her lips, her expression disapproving. She did what all mothers were best at – lovingly disapprove. Her voice was hard, full of disgust.

“You were caught off guard, by a man – no, a monster – double your size in a dark house, while you were sleeping. You were scared and overwhelmed and not able to fight back. That is not your fault.”

“He really is a monster.” It was hard to swallow. I shook my head, closing my eyes. My voice was quiet, timid. “Maybe it’s not my fault… but it forever will be my shame.”

"No, it won't." Natalie’s voice was harsh but got more gentle while she spoke, her expression full of compassion. Not pity. "There is nothing to be ashamed of. You did nothing wrong. Dear lord… that's what I always hated about the dauntless mindset." Rubbing her forehead, she seemed agitated. "There is something almost none of them get, even though it is so important.” And she spoke the words I would never forget again.

“True bravery isn’t the absence of fear; true strength isn’t the absence of weakness. One can not exist without the other. Without fear, there is no bravery, nothing to overcome. With no weakness, there is no determination to get stronger, to get better.

Human nature is not our enemy, just the starting point of our development as individuals. There are urges an educated human should never succumb to, and others that are vital for our survival. We might be more than our nature, but we should never forget where we came from, or where we are going.

We were made like this for a reason. Maybe we should finally stop fighting it. Who knows… once we embrace our mistakes, our failures, we might be able to turn them into something valuable; something good.

A treat that defines us, a habit that will get us further than knowledge or bravery or whatever one of these values ever will.”

I sighed, taking a sip from my still hot tea. She was right. Everything Natalie said made sense but I couldn’t get over myself and fully agree with her. At least, I couldn’t tell her I did. Everything I had ever learned at dauntless was that weakness was the absence of strength, that you couldn’t be brave while fearing.

“Yeah, but you weren’t raised like me.” I looked down into my lap. I didn’t want to insult her but it was the truth. We were so different. “You weren’t raised to be a warrior.”

“If you think so.” Her answer was so evasive, I perked up a little. For the first time, I really looked at Natalie. She was different from all the other abnegation member’s I had interacted with so far. She carried herself straighter, with more poise than the others. I tilted my head. It couldn’t be… could it?

Inauspicious, I glanced up at her, fiddling with the hem of my sweater.

“I must have been the only dauntless transfer to abnegation in… what? Forever?”

“Twenty-two years.” She raised one eyebrow, mischief crossing her face so fast I thought I had imagined it. A realization hit me and I harshly placed the mug on the table. Open-mouthed, I stared at her.

“No way!” I exclaimed, laying a hand on my neck, bending forward. “You were dauntless?!”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Natalie was suppressing a smile, but when she winked at me I knew I had hit bull’s eye. I let out an incredulous laugh.

“I had no idea!” I was flabbergasted, truly lost for words as I stared at her, taking in everything I had thought to know about the woman in front of me. I should have realized sooner. Now I knew why I always felt so calm, so welcomed in her presence. She was a kindred soul, more than I had ever realized.

“Of course not.” Her voice was solemn and she leaned back a little. “We do not talk about our pasts before initiation. No one does. Most have forgotten, that Marcus, for example, was a candor.”

I recoiled, surprised by both her words and her openness. “That’s really strange.”

“Why?” She asked, surprised, tilting her head at me.

"Because he's such a good liar," I spoke the words before I realized what exactly I was saying. For a moment, we stared at each other, me wide-eyed, Natalie with furrowed brows. Knowing I fucked up, I scrambled to cover up my mistake. “I mean, he is good at avoiding harsh truths, like every good politician.”

The quietness between us grew, twisted, became heavy. I squirmed in my seat. Fucking hell, Casey, I cursed myself. Can’t you keep your fucking mouth shut for once?! See where it already got you!

Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply. The sound of a mug being placed on the table had my head whip up.

Natalie leaned forward, hands crossed on the table, her gaze resting solely on me.

“Don’t say that out loud, Casey. Never.” She was solemn, serious, and I nodded, burying my nails in the palms of my hands, cursing myself for not keeping my mouth shut. Natalie sighed, relaxing a bit and I waited for her to go on. To either call me out or to warn me again. Her words surprised me again.

“Politics have always been a delicate subject, no matter the time, or the subject. The same with the male ego…” Eyes twinkling, she raised her mug and I suspect she hid a smile behind the brim. “Once you insulted a man’s self-image it will be insanely hard to placate him again.

And once you publicly shamed them, prepare for a lifetime of revenge.”

Isn’t that exactly what Marcus was afraid of? That I would ridicule him in front of his faction? My mind unwillingly wandered to another leader… Was he afraid of that, too?

Was that the reason he had been so angry? That he fucked a stiff-to-be and now feared someone could find out?

Was that the reason why my family hated me? Because I had brought shame on them? Was everyone I ever loved ashamed of me…?

I, for once, was.

"I'd much rather deal with revenge than with shame," I admitted after a long pause, looking up. Pinching her lips, Natalie sighed.

“Don’t think too much about it, Casey. Feelings are temporary, emotions will wash out over the course of time. What might seem like the end of the world today, might only be a small mishap by tomorrow. And who knows,” She smiled at me. “maybe all these mistakes weren’t mistakes after all. They shaped you into who you are now, and they will shape you into the person you have to become. And maybe that’s exactly who you need to be, once you realize your real destiny.”

There was nothing I could answer to that. Except that maybe, someday I wished to possess the same wisdom as she. I smiled at her. “Thank you, Natalie. For everything.”

“Don’t worry about it, my love.” Natalie smiled her motherly smile at me and I felt home. What a liberating thought. "If you need something, anything, please, do not hesitate to come to me."

“Thank you.” I smiled at her, hesitating. She caught up on that, tilting her head. I laughed, encouraged by her always friendly antics.“Actually, if you would anything to sweeten this tea, I would be forever grateful.”

Laughing herself, Natalie got up and walked over into the small kitchen. Coming back, she placed a small jar of honey in front of me, sitting down again.

“Honey helps. Though it’s nothing against dauntless cake.”

I groaned, thinking about the chocolatey deliciousness. “It really is not.”

And I had to laugh, thinking that somewhere deep inside the heart of dauntless a freak was just now getting it on with a piece of cake.

What a strange world we lived in.

It was Wednesday and as always, Susan had come by after breakfast. She had helped me keeping the house clean and cooking dinner for Marcus once he would come home from his ‘strenuous’ day at the office, where he sat with his ass in a chair all day, got catered by his subordinates and stuffed his face with food he would call selfish to consume.

We were running low on groceries and since it was already late, I felt uncomfortable letting Susan walk through the faction all on her own.

There weren’t many dauntless patrolling the perimeter and the factionless tended to stroll around at this hour of the night. So we grabbed our jackets and hurried to the supply building while the sun was already setting. We only had a few more minutes until they would close it till tomorrow morning.

We just made it in time, coming back out with two bags, each filled to the brim. Only the best for our selfless leader.

As we walked back, that strange feeling I’ve had all along grew more and more prominent and I found myself staring in all the dark corners, pulling Susan close to my left side as I kept a lookout for the danger lurking in the dark. I knew she felt it too, her breathing accelerated, her steps meeting the speed of mine.

I could feel him before I saw him.

Jumping out of the shadow of the building to our left, he was at Susan’s side immediately, ripping the bag from her hand. Screaming in terror, she let go and all of the groceries tumbled out as she fell backward landing in the dirt. He came at her, his clothes ragged and dirt, his hungry eyes never leaving his target – until I stepped in between them. Whipping his head up, he glared at me and I knew that expression. It said I was a problem to deal with before he could have what he wanted – her.

“Listen,” I spoke up, my voice strong. I would give him one chance to leave here – unscathed. "You can have whatever you want, just leave us alone."

He grinned at me, exposing a row of half-rotten teeth. “I have what I want right here.”

Widening my stance, I stared him down. “You will never lay a single finger on her, believe me. Just fucking go back to the hole you crawled out of and maybe you will not spend the rest of your life behind the fence.” I knew exactly what they did at dauntless to men like him – just what they deserved.”

“Ohhhh,” He laughed at me, interrupted by violent coughs. “And how will a pretty little thing like you stop me? You couldn’t defend yourself, how are you gonna defend her?”

He looked past me at Susan, who had crawled towards the next building, cowering away at the wall in her back. I would have told her to run, or to get help but I knew that this scumbag would not stand a chance against me.

He had no idea who he just pissed off.

He smiled at her again, his creepy predatory smile that had Susan whimper, and he raised his foot, trying to advance on me. Having anticipated his move, I stroke first, pulling the foot he had still on the ground away while simultaneously placing my fist under his chin.

Just one well-placed punch and he was out like a light.

I scoffed, trying to shake the pain in my hand away. Hadn’t he really learned any better on the street?

Leaving him in the dirt where he belonged, I hurried over to Susan who was outright crying and pulled her up and into my arms, letting her sob into my shoulder.

And then it was already over again. A pair of dauntless soldiers that I knew from passing, came running, no doubt having heard Susan’s scream, grabbed and restrained him, while a third one first made sure we both were okay and then led us to the office building, informing the leaders about what just had happened.

My heart was in my throat, thinking of the last time I had hurt someone under Marcus’ eyes… the scars were still visible on my maltreated body. But Susan beside me was so upset, crying and shaking that I neglected every thought on myself and took her into arms, holding her close, trying to calm her down.

They took us into the assembly room where the two of us sat opposite the leaders, Susan’s hand in mine while she struggled under tears to recount the unpleasant encounter. I tried taking over all the talking to give her time to pull herself together, but she tried being brave. I admired her for that.

“He… just gripped my-my bag and we tried giv-giving him the food bu-but he didn’t want it.” Susan got out, before turning her head, pressing it into my shoulder. Raising my hand, I brushed over her hair, looking up at Marcus.

“He didn’t want the food. He must have heard of the… incident and thought that Abnegation’s women are an easy target. He tried touching her,” I told them, and not selflessly added, “I just helped.”

Marcus got up and came over. I tensed, anticipating whatever might come next. But not even in my most vivid daydreams I could have imagined what came next. Coming to a halt beside me, Marcus laid his hand on my shoulder and I froze, trying my best to not recoil from his touch like I did every time.

"You did well." He said, wearing a righteous expression. "They should never lay hand on one of us. I will make sure dauntless will patrol more of the perimeter. They owe this to us." He added towards Susan who nodded, her expression turning into silent admiration when he brushed his hand over her hair in a soothing attempt at calling her.

I inhaled deeply, asking myself why she was admiring this piece of shit as if he was a saint.

If only you knew… I thought, taking her into my arms one last time before following Marcus into the dark house, the food waiting forgotten in the fridge.

That night, when I lay beneath him with my head turned away, eyes closed tightly, he wasn’t as harsh as he usually was. But I knew it wouldn’t last.

It never did.

When I came back from visiting Susan the next day, he was already waiting for me, a pile of documents on the table along with a white, opaque garment bag. He grinned at me, reveling in my confusing. A hand on his pouch, the other on his bag, his gaze never wavered away from me, a hungry, expecting expression on his face. I felt my blood run cold.

What now?

Stepping forward, he said the words I would never forget again.

“I am going to make you mine, little slut.”

So… I’d say, never say never :D I know why I didn’t update this in such a long time, it literally took ages to write this chapter! It is sooo long. And intense too :D

I have two more chaps & an epilogue planned but they’ll be just as long as this one, and just as much work. It really felt as if this chap wouldn’t end! I hope you have that feeling while reading, too :D

If you want to read more of my writing, I have started an original story called ‘Dollhouse’ on Wattpad. You can find me there under singingpeople, too. It would really mean the world to me if you check it out!

I have quite a few of the important scenes for this written/ outlined but I honestly have no idea how long it’ll take me to write the next one. This chap was just massive :D

I’m sorry for the long wait but hope this makes it up (kinda) :D

Thank you for reading & reviewing!

#divergent #Eric Coulter #eric #eric divergent #undoing #fanfiction #fanfic #chapter 7 #Trigger #trigger warning

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seriouslyhooked · 6 years

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Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 9)

18 part AU written for @cssns. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: Hey all! So, as promised, we are back with a new chapter (though I am a day later than my usual posting schedule) and this one is arguably the big one. Finally the reveal is here and I have been waiting for it for what feels like forever. It’s going to take a little bit to get there – after all, I can’t just drop the bomb with no ease in, but by the end of the chapter Emma will know the truth and we will all know her reaction. Without giving too much more away, I’ll leave you all to read. Let me know what you think and I hope you all enjoy!

If someone had told Emma even a month ago that she’d willingly walk down the street hand in hand with a man in front of the whole town, she would have called them crazy. That was absolutely not the kind of thing she ever did, but here she was, braving the Fourth of July festivities, proudly holding tight to Killian’s grasp as they made their way down Main Street and over to the park where the town-wide cookout was already in full swing.

“So you’re really sure you want to do this?” Emma asked, teasing Killian when he had made it abundantly clear that this was exactly what he wanted. “It’s not too late to duck out.”

“And miss the chance to turn up with the world’s most beautiful woman on my arm? Never.”

Emma melted into his compliment, despite how over the top it was, and she marveled at how honest he was being and how she couldn’t deny how much he meant the words. They’d been together for a few weeks now, and in all that time Killian bestowed such praise on her constantly. But it never tipped over into the realm of flattery just for flattery’s sake. It was charming, but it was also real, and it left her feeling as beautiful as he believed her to be while also tempting her to say screw it and skip this cookout entirely. The things that she wanted to do with this man were hardly appropriate for this public setting, and if the past few weeks had taught her anything, it was that Emma was a lot less patient than she once thought.

A few weeks – really only two of actually dating – was a very short window to feel this possessive of what they had. Emma was protective of their relationship, and she cherished it far more than a passing fling or ordinary courtship. It felt big and bold, and traditionally, this was the stage of a relationship where people started labeling things, maybe calling themselves boyfriend and girlfriend. But that particular label didn’t seem like enough. Somehow, since meeting Killian, Emma had realized that there was a trivialness to that once aspired to status. It felt like a temporary step before either a couple would break or move on to more. And sure, maybe people dated for years and years without officially taking things further, but in her heart Emma already felt like she and Killian were more.

That feeling was something she’d been clinging to the past few weeks. For all the growing and sharing they were doing together, and for all the time they’d spent in each other’s company (which never did feel like enough), Emma could still feel some boundaries that simply wouldn’t budge, and she wondered why they were up at all. On her end this felt like a given. She was so confident in the two of them, and though they’d never said the words, Emma knew that Killian loved her. He was in love with her, and she felt the exact same way. So what was left between them that was going unsaid? And why did Emma feel like it mattered a whole heck of a lot?

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to know your thoughts right now, love,” Killian murmured as they arrived at the park entrance.

There were people milling about, streaming in to get to the party, but Emma and Killian stopped, standing still in the ebb and flow of foot traffic. Emma turned towards him, meeting his stare after he’d made his comment, and she saw in his gaze that he had picked up on everything she was feeling. He might not know exactly what was bothering her, but he knew something was off, and the look in his eyes was so resolute and certain that she knew he was determined to rid her of any burdens she was carrying. That care and love she saw there only made her fall a little bit more in love, but as much as she wanted to tell him, as much as Emma would like to put it all on the table and be honest with him, she knew it wasn’t the time or place. With their luck her friends or her parents would pop up any second, and the last thing she wanted was to tell Killian that she loved him for the first time with an audience.

“Good thinking. Probably best not to have such a conversation where we could be ambushed.”

Emma gaped at him for a moment before succumbing to laughter. He was funny in his delivery, and the humor was undeniable, but it was also eerie how spot on he was. She knew she hadn’t said anything aloud, but he understood her completely anyway. How was that possible? How could any two people be so in tune with each other? And why didn’t she hate it after spending her life trying to maintain her privacy in a small town where privacy was fleeting?

“Are you like a secret mind reader or something?” She asked, raising a brow at him and taking stock of him all over as if trying to find some kind of physical sign that he was telepathic.

“I’m an Emma reader, and I hate to break it to you, love, but you’re somewhat of an open book.”

“I am not,” Emma said, shaking her head though she still found herself smiling all the same. “You can ask anyone. I’ve got a perfect poker face. I’m undefeated at the legion hall charity games – the definition of cool and collected.”

“With everyone else I dare say you are, love. But with me…” Killian’s words trailed off as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around her and his fingertips leaving blissful zings of awareness where they brushed against her bare skin. “With us, it’s different. We know each other better than we know ourselves. We’ve learned it fast, but still it’s there. Like a language only we speak.”

“And apparently I can’t shut off the transmission,” Emma said, her voice a bit breathier since Killian was so close and she was wrapped up in his scent, and warmth and big strong arms.

“Would you want to if you could?” Killian asked, a bit of concern crossing into his previously relaxed and happy expression. Instantly Emma sought to rectify it, and she did so by answering him honestly.

“No. I love what we have. I wouldn’t want to change it.”

Thoughtfulness colored his features at that, and while it didn’t alarm Emma, it did remind her of her earlier thoughts. Killian was hiding something, something that worried him. There was a secret he was holding onto, presumably something he thought would change what they already had. But even though Emma didn’t know what it could be, she wanted to tell him that it wouldn’t change things. Whatever he was worried about – whatever he deemed necessary to hold back when they’d always been nothing but open – it wouldn’t ruin this, and it was nothing that they couldn’t handle together. She knew that deep down in her soul.

“Knowing you want this and want me is the greatest gift, love, and I fully intend to show you how grateful I am tonight. But right now…”

“Let me guess, incoming?” Emma asked, knowing that for whatever reason, Killian was always able to tell way before she was when someone was approaching to interrupt one of their interludes.

“Aye, love. Don’t worry though, I’ll protect you.”

His whispered words as Elsa and Anna appeared had Emma chuckling softly to herself, and after giving her best friends a hug, she returned to holding Killian’s hand and began to experience this annual party with a totally new view. It was a very different experience to spend the day like this. Of course she and Elsa and Anna had all been coming together for ages, but they knew the routine like the back of their hand. Killian though was a novice still at Storybrooke’s ways and customs, and watching his reactions to all of it and seeing how excited and desirous to participate he was made Emma’s already present love for her town’s antics grow all the more.

“Okay, so we’ve had food, we’ve made the rounds, we kissed the Captain’s wheel…”

“Which I still don’t get to be honest,” Killian whispered low enough so only Emma could hear as Anna went about listing what they’d already done. It was a Storybrooke tradition to kiss the old ship’s wheel statue in the park at this festival every year, but no one really knew why that was or how the tradition started. Seeing Killian’s reaction to it had been hilarious because he seemed to be the only rational one in attendance, but even with the weirdness, he ended up complying. Just the thought of his reaction, however, made Emma laugh, and she muffled the giggle by ducking into him and using him to keep the sound quiet.

“Now the only thing left to do is rumble!” Anna announced gleefully.

“Rumble? Like a fight?” Killian asked, his stance tensing ever so slightly as he moved to bring Emma a bit closer. It was a protective action, one that Emma appreciated though it wasn’t actually needed. She clarified for Anna, speaking in terms an outsider could understand.

“Every year we duke it out at the game tents. It’s a big thing – we play every game and whoever ends with the biggest prize wins,” Emma said, and while she saw that Killian was appeased that there wouldn’t actually be physical violence, he was clearly still concerned about the terminology. Elsa, however, chose this time to cut in.

“But one year when we were kids, the orders got messed up for the game prizes. Emma’s Mom ordered normal fair things like stuffed animals and blow up toys and instead the town got five hundred fake WWE championship belts.”

“You’re kidding,” Killian said, not believing it at all, but then he looked at Emma and his eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Oh yeah,” Emma replied. “And, never one to let the unexpected cramp her style, Mom really leaned in. Most of us didn’t know anything about professional wrestling -,”

“Heck we still don’t,” Elsa interrupted with a laugh as Emma smiled.

“But all the adults made a really big effort to make it cool for one night so that we wouldn’t be disappointed when all we got was a belt.” Killian’s eyes softened at that and he nodded, silently acknowledging how touching and fun that must have been.

“So to honor that night – and to honor Emma’s Dad’s job, which was just to keep yelling ‘Let’s get ready to rumble!’ the whole time – we call this the rumble.”

The laugh Killian let loose at the story prompted Emma and her friends to laugh as well. It was, after all, a very funny thing, and Emma could still remember her Dad that night. He knew nothing about wrestling, except for some old catch phrase, but he’d done everything in his power to see them all enjoy themselves, and he had definitely succeeded.

“Well, I might not be the best, seeing as I haven’t been to a fair in… I couldn’t even say how long,” Killian admitted. “But if it’s a rumble we’re having, then I’m in.”

“Great!” Anna said gleefully, and her tone was so chipper it spoke to some kind of scheming. Before Emma could rein her in though, she was already presenting her thoughts. “So I’m thinking you versus Elsa. You fight for Emma, Elsa fights for me, winner gets the better unicorn plushie at the end of this.”

“Anna,” Emma said, not even knowing how to proceed. She wanted to tell her friend that was silly and that she didn’t need Killian to prove himself with some dumb fair games, but then he squeezed her hand and she looked back at his smiling face.

“If you’re okay with cheering me on, I think I’ve got this, love.” How could she say no to that? Between the handsome face and the hot as hell accent, lilting in that heated way she loved so dearly, she was helpless to do anything but accept.

From there, a truly impressive ‘rumble’ proceeded. The four of them went to every tent for every game, and it turned out that Elsa and Killian were well matched. Killian, for his part, was excellent at any game requiring strength and precision, while Elsa was amazing at all the games of chance and seeming randomness. She anticipated better than anyone Emma knew, which usually made her the undisputed winner on fair night, but tonight it was neck and neck, until the final game – the ring toss.

“You couldn’t write this better,” Anna said to Emma as they stood off watching Elsa and Killian prepare for the final event.

“Couldn’t write what?” Emma asked, not following.

“The ring toss,” Anna said, matter of factly. Emma blinked, not knowing what her friend was getting at. “Oh come on, Emma. Killian’s going to win you the title with a ring, and it’s only a matter of time before he gives you a very different kind of ring giving you a very different kind of title.”

Realization sunk in after a moment and Emma blushed as she swatted Anna’s arm. “Anna, shh, he’ll hear you.”

“Oh please. That man is in love. L-O-V-E, love,” Anna said in what could best be described as a stage whisper. “There are more than wedding bells in the air, Emma. Don’t think we all can’t see that.”

Emma’s stomach flipped at the thought. It was something that was so out of this world – getting married? That couldn’t possibly be on her radar so soon, and yet it was. This was not the first time she had thought about a future with Killian, and that future, at least the ideal one that her heart liked to surmise about, especially in her dreams, did involve getting married someday. If she were honest with herself, the dreams included that day coming way sooner than it probably should too, but she had never vocalized those wants before and she was worried Killian would hear. For all the good that had blossomed between them these past few weeks, and for as fast as she had grown to love him, Emma couldn’t help feeling like there was one last step to take before the future Anna was hinting at. There was one last wall to conquer – one more thing that lay in their path – and while Emma was working on overcoming it, she wouldn’t rush Killian.

As if he could feel her watching him, Killian chose that moment to glance back at her. She didn’t think that he had heard Anna, but she could feel the intensity of his emotion even from the distance. He was more than clear with his thoughts about her and his care for her, and when he smiled it set the anxiety her friend had just let loose fading away. Emma felt exponentially better, and she offered him her own smile before he turned back to take on the toss.

“I really want this,” Emma whispered, her voice low but her meaning more sincere than nearly any words she’d said aloud before. “I want him.”

“And you have him,” Anna said as she came to take Emma’s hand. “Totally and completely.”

Emma exhaled a deep breath at the words and she smiled again, following Anna’s lead back to Killian and Elsa. They were just about finished with the game. All that was left was one ring on each of their parts. Elsa went first, tossing and almost getting it to stay on the neck of the milk bottle, but it was Killian who was victorious in the end. He cast the ring with a finesse Emma hadn’t expected, and it landed perfectly atop the bottle, making him the victor.

The excitement and the pride that Emma felt in the face of his winning was certifiably over the top. This year’s rumble did not require that she leap into his arms and squeal with the excitement of a kid rather than the woman she was, but Emma didn’t care. She felt so light and free with Killian, and when things were good, she wanted to enjoy how good they really were. Life lived like this was a breath of fresh air, and the cherry on top was when she was back on the ground, still in his arms, and he leaned down to kiss her exactly like the conquering hero did in every romance book she’d ever read.

“Okay, okay we get it. You love each other. No need to give us all a show.”

Anna’s words brought Emma back into the present, and she knew that a blush had crept over her cheeks at the mention of love, but she didn’t back down. Instead she shook her head with feigned censure, and told Anna that she did want a show. If she didn’t she wouldn’t be so nosy all the time.

“Fair point,” Anna confessed with a shrug. “But since I’m turning over a new, more mature leaf, might I suggest hightailing it out of here? A little birdie told me your Mom is like thirty seconds from popping up.”

“Well we could wait…” Killian offered, not wanting to rush Emma, even though he knew by now what her parents’ appearance would mean. They had said hello and spent a little time with them earlier, but a second meeting would no doubt be longer than the first. Her mother would talk both of them to death, and at the same time she’d thoroughly squash the mood that celebratory kiss had just sparked in Emma.

“Or we could save ourselves and run,” Emma said, pulling him along with her as she cast a goodbye over her shoulder to her friends. “Love you guys, see you tomorrow.”

Anna and Elsa waived goodbye after them, and, through some stroke of immense luck, Emma and Killian managed to get out of the fair grounds without being spotted by the leaders of the Nolan clan. The rest of the town certainly saw them, and Emma noticed the looks that each neighbor cast their way. What surprised her though was the softness she saw there – people had largely accepted Killian, and they seemed really happy for the two of them. That acceptance made Emma happy. She didn’t need it, but she was glad for it. It would hopefully make the whole telling him he was the one and convincing him that this was a forever kind of thing that much easier.

“So, now that you’ve gotten me alone, what’s the plan, love?”

Killian’s question rumbled from his chest, washing over Emma with a trickle of seduction. He wasn’t even trying to do anything, but Killian was just too hot for her to fully function. She closed her eyes for a second, grounding herself in this and in him, and then she opened them and told him what she wanted.

“Take me to your place.”

Her request made Killian’s eyes widen, but she knew he wasn’t surprised. Over the last few weeks the heat between them had only been burning hotter and brighter, but despite some kisses that blew her away, and despite the tantalizingly distracting feel of his rough but also gentle touch, Emma and Killian hadn’t taken things to that next step. She’d been ready for it, aching for the chance to be alone with him and make some of her more vivid fantasies real, but Killian had been taking things slowly. Tonight, however, Emma didn’t want slow. She wanted to go all in, and she wanted to now.

“As you wish.”

Emma’s heart thumped loudly in her chest as they walked, hand in hand, from the park where the festivities had been through the town towards his cabin. By the time they reached the woods, Emma’s anticipation was at record levels. Her whole body was swimming with desire, and she could barely contain it. She knew Killian was aware of it too because his jaw had gone hard but his blue eyes were molten every time he looked her way. He seemed seconds away from sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her, and she would have welcomed that, especially in the moment where she got so distracted that her foot caught on a root that was sticking up slightly from the ground below.

Before Emma could hit the earth with a loud and painful thud, Killian had pulled her to him, cradling her in the warm and strong embrace she’d come to love so much. Somehow her back had ended up at his front, but their bodies were aligned perfectly even like this. The breath rushed out of her, and her body had to play catch up for a moment. She had braced herself for a fall, but it simply hadn’t come, and she blinked away the adrenaline before realizing that they were in another stretch of woods she knew very well…

In the moment just before waking, Emma already knew that she was not where she should be. The ground beneath her was hard, though the grass licked lightly at her skin in a soft and pleasing way. The air was too fresh and too pure for her to be at home and in bed, and the smells around her… she was definitely outside, and that meant it had happened again. She’d had the dream, and she’d left the house as she slept, completely unaware of what she was doing.

Blinking until the early morning dawn didn’t hurt her eyes so badly, Emma’s first sight was the canopy of the trees she’d ended up in. They were giant pines, tall and proud and ever growing, and while they would be considered beautiful and tranquil at any other time, right now they spiked only fear in Emma. She was outside again, presumably alone out here in the elements, and she didn’t know how to stop it.

Rising from the ground, Emma noticed how covered she was in dirt. It climbed up her legs from her bare feet, tore at her clothes, and no doubt smudged her face and her neck as it did her hands and arms. She was a mess right now, and the one thing she remembered most from the dream was the howl of a wolf. It was loud, defiant, but also familiar, and Emma could feel it still reverberating through her, as if she herself had made the sound instead of hearing it in a dream.

Making her way through the woods, trying to remain unseen by anyone who might happen to be out at this ungodly hour, Emma tracked back through the dream. The foundations were the same. It started with that night at the hospital. Two wolves – one good, one bad, fighting over her. She was trapped, she was scared, but then she wasn’t. The midnight one seemed to care for her, to protect her, and then the dream would morph. Suddenly she wasn’t in Boston anymore, she was in the woods, these woods.

She also wasn’t Emma anymore at this point, at least not really. Her point of view was too low, her movements so different than if she’d been walking or running on her own. She was aware of so much – too much – and the darkness of the world did nothing to deter her. She could see everything, feel everything, and she was totally in control. She’d made her way through her favorite groves, tracking and running, and then at the end, she’d made it to the river and she looked into the water only to see another wolf. This one was so different – a pale, almost white coat making the beast look amazing and other worldly, and it was this animal that howled, this revelation that pushed her mind from sleep to wake.

Even now, Emma didn’t know what to make of all of this. Why was there a new wolf when she’d been battling familiar ones all this time? And what did it mean that the wolf had been where she had been? Doctor Hopper would call this projection. Emma knew he’d explain it away as more stress, likely over choosing which college she wanted to go to, not that her parents were going to let her go. With all of this happening who could blame them? Emma was crazy, really and truly crazy and there was no hope of her ever being normal or accepted when this was her deep dark secret…

“Emma?” Killian’s concerned voice broke the spell of her remembrance, and Emma shook her head slightly before looking back at him. She could see in his eyes so much love, and suddenly she felt an urge, an urge to tell him something she’d never even told her very best friends. Something her parents knew, but didn’t really know, since she’d kept parts from them and from Archie. It was a moment of truth, one final test, and Emma hoped that maybe it would be the thing he needed to come forward with his own secret.

“I used to have these crazy dreams, right when we got back from Boston,” she began, continuing to walk through the copse of trees towards his cabin with his hand in hers. “They were wild and exhausting. I’d sleep ten hours but feel like I never went to bed. They were all so vivid in the moment too. One second I was living this undeniable double life. It was almost more real than the world I was living in, but when I woke up I’d start to forget. The pieces would slip away, but the feelings still remained. The doctors said it was stress, but I would - I mean I used to… sleep walk.”

Emma expected Killian to ask for more, but when she looked back up at him he remained quiet. His eyes were fixed on her, his expression unreadable, but she felt a silent urging from him for her to continue so she did.

“The walking was tamer at first. I’d wake up in the kitchen or the back yard. Still close to home, but definitely not where I should be. But by the end of my senior year it was bad… really bad. My parents had to lock every door, install an alarm in a town with virtually no crime, and keep an eye out. They took shifts of who would sleep, and sometimes I still got out. I have no idea how, and they didn’t either.”

“And when you got out, where did you go?” Killian asked, his voice even despite the fact that she was telling him this alarming bit of back-story.

“The woods. Always the woods.”

She gave him some more details of those morning memories. They were hard to speak about, mostly because they were so radically out of the norm, and by the time they’d gotten to his house Emma was starting to feel like maybe this was too much. She hadn’t said any of this aloud in so long and it sounded even more bizarre to her now than it did then, but luckily Killian didn’t seem off put in any way. The only thing he could see on her face was concern for her safety and something else that surprised her. It was almost like he didn’t think these dreams were that insane, and she wondered how he could be so calm in the face of something so strange and wild.

“God, Emma, that sounds… frightening and more than a little scary.”

“It was in a way,” Emma admitted. “But it wasn’t where I woke up that scared me, it was the part when I was awake again. I always had this sinking feeling that I was forgetting something, something really important. It was like something wasn’t right in the light of day. Something was really really wrong, and… well I mean it wasn’t. Everything was fine, and then my birthday came, and I don’t know, I felt a lot better suddenly. I was a bit more settled than I had been. The dreams didn’t come as much, and now when they do it’s just a dream. No random relocations thrown in the mix.”

“That’s good to hear,” Killian said, his hands running over her as much for her comfort as for her his own. “I hate to think of you out in the world and without protection. If anything ever happened to you…”

“I’m fine,” Emma promised, trying to convince him that she was in fact all right as they took a seat on his couch. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

Pulling him down for a kiss, Emma was so relieved when Killian kissed her back. He might have felt a bit withdrawn when she’d made the confession about her dreams, but he was with her now in an undeniable way. The only problem was, that when they finally came back for air, the walls had come up again. He was sitting here, holding her close and doing that thing where he subtly protected her from the whole entire world, but she could see the difference and feel it too and it was terrible. She hated it. Simply hated it.

“I shouldn’t have said all that, should I?” Emma asked, her heart hurting in her chest at the realization that she might just have fucked this up. “I messed up.”

“No, Emma. You’re perfect, and I’m glad you told me. Truly I am,” he assured her and Emma smiled at the words, knowing he meant them even if he was still being weird. “You know how I feel about you. In your heart you know, but I haven’t said it aloud yet because… because I’ve been keeping something from you.”

Emma’s heart constricted in her chest even though she had known this was coming. Killian had a secret, something he’d been guarding all this time, and if she knew him as much as she thought she did, it was something he’d probably never told anyone at all. Yet even with the sadness she felt that he had kept something from her, it wasn’t distrust that settled within her. She only wished to help him and to alleviate his pain. Whatever it was, he was so worried and she couldn’t do anything to help until he told her. She moved closer, her hand coming to rest over his heart, which was beating so fast it must be painful, and then she made him a promise she knew he had to hear.

“Whatever it is we can face it together. It’s you and me, okay?”

A moment passed where Killian didn’t say anything. He seemed caught up in something, a memory if she wasn’t mistaken. For a moment it was like he wasn’t there, but Emma instinctively reached out to him, taking his hand. When they touched he was instantly back with her, and his eyes shone bright with a need to be with her.

“You and me, right?”

“Always.”

Hearing him say that made Emma breathe easier. Whatever was happening in his mind right now, there was no hiding the truth, and Killian still wanted this. But as much as she had been willing to give him time before, Emma’s patience had grown frail. She felt like this weight he was carrying was the only thing left between them, and she wanted so badly for him to let it go. If he did they’d be free to just… be, and as strange as that sentiment was, Emma’s instincts told her that they needed that. She knew he wasn’t going anywhere, but whatever secret he was harboring, he needed to share, not just for her sake, but for his as well.

“There’s something about me you don’t know, love. I’m…”

Killian trailed off, and Emma knew that they had finally reached the moment of truth. She had literally no idea where this was going. Killian had kept this guarded for weeks. It was the only part of him she hadn’t had access to, and she needed it even though she felt a tiny bit of fear. Why was he so hung up on this? Was it really so bad? She just wouldn’t know until he said something.

“You’re…” she prompted, her eyes searching his face which was clouded with worry. Then his words came so quickly she almost didn’t hear them.

“I’m a shifter.”

“A shifter,” Emma parroted, and though she didn’t understand what that was, the words came out less as a question than a statement. The term sparked the remembrance she had back at the clinic a few weeks ago, but she shook her head, knowing that couldn’t have been real. It must mean something. Was this a fetish or something? No, it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. She’d have sensed that red flag early on. But whatever it was, this part of her, deep down inside was suddenly excited and elated for now explainable reason. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means… actually, it’s probably better if I show you.”

Taking her hand in his Killian brought Emma to sit on the couch in his living room. It was a strange thing to do, but Emma knew it was because whatever this was, it was so big he thought she might fall from the shock of it. Meanwhile the word kept bouncing around in her head. Shifter. Shifter. Shifter. She tried to fathom what this was, and if her old, probably made up memory could be accurate, but then she was distracted by Killian moving back across the room and pulling the shirt he was wearing over his head. Emma was not expecting him to strip down in front of her, and despite this being a very serious moment her eyes honed in on his muscled physique. A thrill coursed through her as more and more of him was revealed, and when he was finally down to just his briefs she found her words.

“Killian, what are you…?”

She trailed off when Killian took a deep, steadying breath and then, well, shifted. Like shifted from a man into a wolf in a split second. It was the craziest thing she’d ever seen. One second he was there, for a fleeting moment there was this transition that happened so quick you would blink and you missed it, and then there was this animal – a huge, black wolf, standing where Killian had just been. The animal was poised and powerful, and then his eyes opened and Emma instantly recognized them and him too.

“Holy shit! Holy shit you’re a wolf!” she said, her voice coming out harsh with the emotion of the realization. “Killian, you’re my wolf! Oh my God Killian, you’re my wolf! The wolf from the alley… the wolf from my dreams…”

Killian let out a low whine in his animal form, and though Emma wasn’t exactly fluent in large, wild canine speak, she knew it was a signal that she was right. It completely amazed her that any of this was happening. Now she knew why Killian had her sit down for this reveal. She was dizzy from the shock of it, but she also had this intrinsic need to get up and be close to him. She was fascinated by his coat and color, by how large his animal was, and of course the fact that he could turn into an animal at all. But before she asked those questions, and before she addressed how the hell any of this was possible, she moved across the room to where he was and hesitantly reached out to touch him.

When her fingers made contact with the warmth of his fur, her whole body filled with the most wonderful feeling. It was somehow more consuming than their first time meeting, and finally she knew that the last piece of the puzzle was solved. This was the secret Killian was hiding. This was the truth he’d had to keep hidden, and God what a beautiful, amazing, and magical truth it was. Emma’s eyes actually misted up at the fierceness of all the she felt, but she kept the tears at bay to try and speak her thoughts aloud.

“I don’t understand how this can be real. You’re a wolf – sorry, a shifter – and you saved me. Back in Boston…”

Now Killian did return to himself and Emma jumped at the transformation, more from surprise than fear. No, there was nothing like fear here at all. She felt completely safe with Killian still, but she hoped he would fill in the blanks so her mind could truly comprehend all she’d just seen.

“Aye, I did, love.” She knew it was him, but it still felt good to hear him say it. So all this time she hadn’t been crazy. There was a wolf, and somehow, someway, he’d found his way back to her.

“Wow. That’s so… crazy,” she said for lack of a better descriptor. “What are the odds?”

“I’d say about one in a billion,” he replied and she laughed, the sound pitched higher than normal from the bevy of emotion. Killian, for his part, stepped closer to her, testing the waters but finding Emma didn’t need any space. She moved towards him too, and reveled in the feel of his arms around hers.

“And you found me again. How did you do that? Did you track me or something?”

“No, Emma. It was all instinct. I had the urge to come to Maine for years now, but I finally gave in after resisting so long. I didn’t realize what we were to each other when we first met, but my wolf knew subconsciously you were out there somewhere in the world, calling to me.”

“And what are we to each other?” She asked with a breathless sense of wonder. She knew that her tone spoke to a true yearning to know, and that she was holding nothing back. Right now she was an open book, but it felt only right since he was just as open with her.

“We’re what’s called fated mates, love. In my world it’s normal. All shifters have their perfect partner, their other half, and you, Emma Nolan, are mine, just as I am yours. Bonds between humans and shifters… well I’ve never heard of one happening, but it could be the reason you had those dreams and felt those things. It could be our bond, just working in more mysterious ways.”

“Oh thank God,” Emma said with genuine relief finally it was Killian’s turn to look confused. He must not understand her thoughts on this, so she tried to explain them. “It’s just I’m totally crazy about you. I wanted you from the first second I saw you and I feel like you’re the one. It’s good to know that’s real. It’s not just my mind playing tricks on me.”

“It’s real,” Killian murmured, his hand coming to cup her cheek, sending a zing of awareness through her already sensitive flesh. “It’s the realest thing I’ve ever known, the surest love that can ever be found.”

“Love?” Emma asked and Killian nodded.

“Love. I love you, Emma. For now and always. For this life and every other, I love you.”

Hearing that was the most remarkable thing that had ever happened to her. Knowing that she and Killian were destined to be together was amazing, but to hear that he loved her… it just filled her so completely with joy that she was at a loss for words. She jumped further into his arms, wrapping herself around him as she kissed him with all the passion that she had. He mirrored those feelings and that desire so perfectly too. They were wholly connected and on the same page and Emma had never felt better in all her life. She was finally alive, finally getting the chance to know the best that happiness had to offer, and she never wanted to let go. But of course, ever the responsible and reasonable one, Killian realized there was still more to be said. Before they could get too carried away, he pulled back, and when she looked at his cerulean eyes, she saw he still had things to explain, things she needed to know.

The story of his life, as a shifter and as a man, came easily then. Killian let it all out, every last part, leaving no detail unaddressed. Emma listened to everything he outlined for her about his past losses and heartaches and his life as a shifter. He talked about the pull of the full moon each month and the mating bond that would come when they finally came together. He talked more about shifter culture and the devotion he’d always have to her and the family they might one day make together. Then he explained how their case was one that he never imagined possible – there were no known cases of shifters and humans being fated pairs, but that didn’t make him any less sure. He showed her his mark and she in turn showed him where hers had appeared, at her hip. She wrote it off as weird reaction to something that would fade away in time, but then she looked at where she’d touched him, and she marveled at their perfect set of markings.

“Wow… just… wow,” Emma said, smiling to herself as she continued to hold onto him. “Wait, you just told me you’re a lone wolf now but you called it something else…”

“A rogue,” Killian replied and he watched as a connection formed in Emma’s mind.

“That’s what Graham called you that day at the diner… oh my God, Graham has to be a shifter, right?”

“A wolf, like me,” Killian confessed, sending Emma’s mind in a dozen directions. How could he have hidden it? Who else knew? Then Killian dropped another bomb she never expected. “He and Tink are the only other shifters in the direct vicinity.”

“Oh my God Tink too?” Emma asked, her eyes widening. “That’s so cool! Is she a wolf also?”

“A lynx,” Killian said, before explaining to Emma that there were dozens of shifter species the world over, some more rare than others.

“I can’t believe you guys manage to keep it a secret…” Emma said, but then her stomach clenched as she thought back to that memory. It had to be real and not a dream like she thought, and that, given everything Killian had said about rules and the council, was not a good thing. “But Killian, I think my parents know. I mean they might… I have this memory of a mountain lion at the clinic and my Mom saying the word so… maybe?”

“I don’t know about your mother, love…” Killian left the rest unsaid.

“But my Dad knows, doesn’t he?” Emma didn’t need to ask. His face said everything, and it also said he felt terrible not coming right out and saying so himself.

“I think it’s best to ask him yourself.”

“God this is all so much. I never imagined this, but somehow I feel like I always knew. Is that normal?”

“It’s our mating bond,” Killian informed her. “It’s strong already, and it will grow even stronger if you choose to be mine in every way.”

“Oh I’m definitely choosing you,” Emma said, completely sure of herself and Killian actually hummed out a sound of approval, that sent waves of pleasure through her. Holy crap, that was hot. Was that a shifter thing? Or just a man who really really wanted her to love him? “I love you, Killian, and I want this. More than anything.”

“That makes two of us, love. But this is fast, especially given human custom. What I’ve told you tonight is a lot to process and I need you to be sure. There’s no going back once a mating bond has been sealed so we can wait as long as you need. The full moon this month is tomorrow, but I would wait forever for you.”

“And if I don’t want to wait?” Emma asked, her heart pounding so loudly at even the thought of mating with him. She wanted it so badly, but she also felt the severity of his words. This was a huge step and an even bigger commitment, and that was something to at least sleep on for one night.

“I will always do everything in my power to see you happy, Emma. You have my word on that.” She nodded, glad for his loyalty and devotion that he made apparent with every word and touch and look he sent her way.

“I think I need to talk to my parents,” Emma confessed after a few moments of internal musing. “Or at least my Dad. But I do want this, Killian. Nothing you told me tonight changes how I feel. I knew that I would love you forever before I knew everything, and I still feel that way. I’ll always feel that way.”

“I trust you, Emma. More than I can say. If you say you’re ready then I’ll believe you, but have a night to think on it. Tomorrow if you feel the same, you will find me and we’ll be together, and if not I’ll still be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Let me guess, this is the part where you say goodnight,” Emma said, sighing in a dramatic way they were both used to by now. He was ever the gentleman, and though she knew they could spend the night together and not go too far, Killian would never dream of attempting such a feat. “There isn’t anything I can say to convince you otherwise is there?”

“Not tonight, love. I know it’s not easy, but it’s how it has to be. I can’t trust myself not to take all I want. I’m only so strong.”

“I get it,” Emma acknowledged. “I don’t love it, but I get it.”

“Soon enough it’ll be tomorrow,” Killian said, but then he tilted his head and adjusted his words. “I lied. It’ll never be soon enough. I want you every second of every day.”

Her heart melted at that and Emma pulled him in for another kiss, this one soft but slow and languid. It was peaceful but resiged, and still she hoped he could feel her love in it, because she really did love him. So so much.

“Until tomorrow then,” Emma said, trying to capture his slight lilt and Killian laughed shaking his head.

“Uh, no, love. If you think I’m letting you walk alone at night you have another think coming. I’ll see you home and safe, just as I always do.”

And with that, the two of them set out back to Emma’s house, where they did, regrettably part ways. But though she had so much more to consider and to talk about with her father, Emma knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that tomorrow they’d come together for real. It was time for them to be one – to be mated as he called it – and as she fell asleep that night, Emma’s dreams were filled with the magic Killian brought into her life, and hopeful visions of what might be when they were truly and totally together at last.

Post-Note: So there we have it – Emma now knows about shifters and true mates and pretty much everything. I have purposefully left some vagueness about how much of Killian’s past he has talked about though, mostly because the flashbacks haven’t revealed it yet. Regardless, next chapter will be important because it’s from Emma’s POV. She is going to confront her father and once she has all the info (which she, and we, definitely do not have) she will make her choice. Hope that you guys enjoyed the chapter and would love to hear your thoughts! Thanks so much for reading and have a great rest of your weekend!

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jilyyall · 4 years

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Animal Magnetism - Ch 10.

Edward Cullen was not a normal teenager; of that I was certain. But knowing that did nothing to stop the pull I felt towards him. And if what he was saying was any indication, he felt some strange pull towards me, too. It was like we were magnets struggling against hope to stay apart. I only wondered what would happen when we inevitably collided.

Chapter 10. A Modern Man. FANFICTION.NET / AO3 Intro/1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/

On Friday morning, the day before my plans to go to Seattle with Edward, I rushed out the door barely five seconds after Renee drove away and I still wasn't fast enough to beat him. He was holding open the door to his car before I had my front door locked. I laughed, shaking my head. He'd been waiting in front of my house to drive me to school every morning for two weeks and I had taken it upon myself to try to be waiting outside for him for once. I hadn't shared my goal with him, but he seemed to suspect; he was smirking at me as I hurried across the lawn to get out of the rain. It never seemed to bother him that he ended up with wet hair and damp shoulders every morning.

"How do you do that?" I demanded, slipping slightly on the wet concrete as I passed him. He caught me by the hand to steady me and held on, using our grasp as leverage to lower me safely into the seat.

He didn't mention my clumsiness – I thought he was probably used to it by now – as he started the car.

"Alice," he said simply.

"Are you ever going to explain that?" I eyed him curiously. He had been making cryptic comments for two weeks about his strange sister and her good reasons and her hunches.

I was watching his face, so I saw him glance at me out of the corner of his eye. He smirked. "I'm kind of enjoying keeping you in the dark," he admitted. "It's nice to turn the tables on you."

"Excuse me?" I exclaimed, scowling when he laughed. "I have truthfully answered every single question you've ever asked me! I do not keep my thoughts from you."

He had asked me a lot of questions, more even, I was sure, than I had asked him. It was overwhelming sometimes, the amount of information he demanded from me. Sometimes, the questions were so trivial and so inconsequential that I didn't think anyone had ever though to ask them. It was a shock to realize that he was curious because he had seen these details in other people's thoughts, details that no one cared enough to share, and he wanted to know all of those things about me, too.

"You edit," he accused. "It's very frustrating not to know what you really think."

"Most people think before they speak, Edward," I reminded him. "And besides, I barely edit."

"I've answered all of your questions, too," Edward pointed out quietly. It was true enough; ever since he'd started being forthcoming with me, he had patiently answered every question I had been brave enough to ask him. I wasn't always certain he was telling me the whole truth, though.

"You edit," I shot back. He cocked his head to the side, and didn't argue.

"Alice has a very useful ability," he finally said after several long moments of stubborn quiet between us and then he sighed ruefully. "Sometimes."

"You said you were the only one who can read minds," I remembered, my aggravation melting into curiosity. "What can she do?"

"Alice can see the future," he told me.

Ah. That actually made a lot of sense when I thought back to all the odd comments he'd made about his sister.

"She had a, what, a vision? That she and I would be friends?" I asked, remembering something he had said early in the week.

"Yes." He nodded, frowning. "And she's been telling me precisely when to arrive in the morning."

"Cheater." I narrowed my eyes at him playfully. "Did she tell you that I was trying to be out there before you arrived?"

"She did."

"I bet Alice saw me coming," I said smugly, thinking of the way they had both stared at me when I was getting my schedule in the guidance office that first day, before lunch. "Before you ever even smelled my blood, I bet she knew what I would be to you."

He hesitated, and the steering wheel creaked as his fists tightened around it. I saw the grimace on his face, but before I could demand he tell me what he was thinking, he shook his head. "Alice's visions are subjective. The future is always in flux; it changes with each new decision someone makes."

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Why are you agitated?"

It was the best description I could come up with, though I hadn't thought I would ever think to describe Edward as agitated. He didn't answer me, and we sat in silence until he pulled the car into the lot and put it in park.

"Did she see something about me?" I whispered, staring at him as he stared out the windshield. "Something you want to change?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to stop it," Edward muttered and leaned over the center console as he did every morning and laid his head in the curve of my neck, inhaling deeply. Desensitizing.

When he pulled back after a few minutes, he was smiling at me, but I could still see the slightest hint of tension in his eyes.

"Can I ask you a question, Bella?" he said.

"More questions?" I said, trying for levity, but still frowning over his secrecy. "What is it?"

"About tomorrow," he began, and I worried briefly that he was going to cancel on me before he continued. "Did you really need to go to Seattle? Or are you open to other options?"

"Oh." I shrugged. It didn't really matter to me, so long as he was willing to spend it with me. "Seattle was just an excuse to get out of going to the dance. I'm open to suggestions."

"Well, the weather is going to clear up later this evening and last through the day tomorrow," he said. "So I'll be spending the day away from the public and I was wondering if you would like to spend it with me."

"Sure," I said. Because, yeah, of course I wanted to spend the day alone with him; it didn't really matter what we were doing. "What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking of taking you for a hike," he said.

I grimaced. Hiking? In the woods? Over unsteady ground and branches and slippery rocks? With a vampire who detested moving slowly? He smiled, seemed to guess what I was thinking.

"I'll move at your pace," he promised. "And I'll show you what I meant. About the sun."

He'd dropped that bomb when he was driving me home on Tuesday. Apparently, the sun didn't harm vampires – that was just a myth – but it did have some effect on them that he hadn't been able to describe to me.

"Hiking sounds great," I said brightly. He smirked at me, not buying my lie, and then sighed.

"I should have let you drive yourself this morning, but I couldn't stand to wait any longer to see you," he said. "Alice and I are leaving after lunch to go hunt. I want to curb the temptation as much as possible."

"I can get a ride home with Mike or Jessica, I'm sure," I told him, trying to hide my disappointment. I liked our car rides; I liked the conversations we shared during them.

"That's not necessary," he said. "I'll have Alice drop your truck off."

The first bell rang just then and I jumped, looking outside to see everyone heading towards their classes.

"Crap," I said, fumbling for the door handle. Edward was already there, holding a hand out for my books.

What could Alice possibly have seen about me that would make Edward so uneasy? It couldn't be anything that I did wrong. It couldn't be that I would betray them, accidentally let something slip. I would never do that. But what could it be? It gnawed at me all morning. I couldn't concentrate in class, couldn't feign interest in Jessica's retelling of her date with Mike the night before. Eventually, she stopped trying to engage with me, and I was able to concentrate on the enigma that was Alice Cullen's precognition.

He met me outside of my Spanish class, as he had every day this week, and gave me a confused look as he took my books in one hand, and my hand in his other. "Why does Jessica Stanley think we're in an argument?"

"Probably because I've been deep in thought all morning and haven't really talked much to her," I said.

"What have you been thinking about?" he asked warily, though I was sure he suspected. I turned and led him off the concrete path leading to the cafeteria, off into the soggy grass and under a tree.

"Did Alice see me… like you?" I demanded in a whisper. "Is that what you're so upset about?"

"It doesn't matter," he said.

"Has Alice ever been wrong before?" I asked. His hesitation was all the answer I needed: no, she hadn't.

"She will be this time. That's all that matters," he promised, and I could tell by the way he stroked a hand gently down my arm that he thought he was comforting me. I frowned and shook my head.

"But, Edward, what if I decide that I want it to happen? What if I decide that I want to be with you forever?" I said. "How do you plan to stop that?"

I wasn't stupid. I had only really, truly known Edward for a couple weeks; it was way too soon for me to be making decisions about immortality and spending forever – actual, real, unending forever – with him. All I knew was that I liked him a lot, and if my feelings for him kept intensifying, and so did his for me, well then we could discuss the possibility when it came up.

"Simple. I've already decided not to change you," he said firmly, as if that dissolved the issue.

I stared at him, wondering how it had come to this, to him making a decision on his own about my future, a future that his own clairvoyant sister had already seen coming. Settling on the realization that his decision not to change me hadn't erased Alice's vision, I frowned at him and spoke slowly. "Too bad you're not the only vampire I know."

"Carlisle would never turn someone who wasn't already dying," he said, completely missing the fact that I had been thinking of his entire family, not just his father. "And it won't come to that; I won't let anything happen to you."

"I could ask someone else," I said.

He froze, his eyebrows shooting up, and frowned. Apparently, he hadn't realized that I was debating my options rather than discussing my fears, and the realization made him unhappy. "You don't know any of them."

"I know of them," I pointed out.

"They would never..." He stopped short and hissed, that same low warning sound he had made when Rosalie had been glaring at me at lunch on Monday.

"Hi, Bella."

Edward scowled at the high, musical tinkle of a voice behind me. I turned slowly to see Alice Cullen, eyes a dim yellow like her brother's, standing several feet away, her black hair sleek and shiny against her pale-white skin even in the humidity.

"Hello, Alice. It's so nice to meet you," I said shyly, suddenly acutely aware of how frizzy my hair was, and then turned to Edward with one eyebrow raised. Hadn't he told me that Alice was certain she and I were going to be best friends? My future best friend would probably be willing to help me out.

He growled at me, baring his teeth, but I wasn't afraid of him.

"In a moment," he snapped harshly, flicking his hand impatiently at his sister to send her away. I wondered what she had thought at him.

"I'll see you on Sunday, Bella," Alice told me with a sure smile, totally unaffected by Edward's temper, and flitted away, her movement so smooth it looked as though she might have been a ballerina in another life.

"Bella, you can't be serious about this," Edward snapped. "Be reasonable. You don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about possibilities, Edward," I said, trying to stay calm, trying not to throw the same temper back at him that he was radiating. "Not certainties. Some day, maybe… you don't know where we'll be, what we'll want."

"I don't care where we are, I won't let you," Edward snarled.

"Don't try to tell me what I can and can't do, Edward. If I have to remind you that it's not the early 1900s one more time, so help me…" I trailed off with a growl of my own for him. "You don't own me. You don't make my decisions for me. And you do not control me. You never will."

He glowered at me, and his eyes were tinged black with rage. "You don't know what you're saying," he snapped through clenched teeth.

"And you do not know what I'm capable of understanding!" I wrenched my books from his grip and turned on my heel to stalk away from him. "Have a good hike," I spat at him over my shoulder.

I was halfway to the cafeteria when I noticed Emmett Cullen and Jasper and Rosalie Hale watching me from near the gym. I bared my teeth in the silent snarl I'd seen Edward do before, and saw shock and amusement flash across three impossibly beautiful faces before I stalked out of their sight.

"You're not sitting with Cullen today?" Mike asked when I dropped into the seat between Jessica and Angela.

"No," I said angrily, and then had to work to cool my temper when I saw Jessica's eyebrows shoot up. "He's not feeling well, so his sister took him home."

My mood did not improve over the course of the afternoon, especially when I kept catching glimpses of Lauren Mallory in gym, sending me snide little glances. Apparently word had spread that Edward and I had an argument under a tree at lunch, and she felt the need to gloat. For the first time, when I sent the volleyball flying into the back of her head, it wasn't an accident.

Because we were mad at each other, I was surprised to see my big, ugly red truck in the parking lot - in the spot Edward's car had been - when I walked out after school. I supposed, even when he was upset with me, Edward didn't want to leave me stranded. It was better than I could say for some human boys.

I woke early Saturday morning – before the sun was fully up – to a tapping on my window. My heart stopped, and then slammed in my chest, when I rolled over and saw Edward's face on the other side of the glass. All too aware of my too-big sleep shirt with the hole at my thigh, I raced to the window on the tips of my toes and slid it open. He was hanging there, simply holding himself in place with what seemed to be no effort at all, his hands braced on either side of the window sill.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered when he slid inside, graceful and silent.

He looked around my room quickly, but I was certain it was enough time for him to take in more than I would have liked. I wished I would have taken the time to pick my clothes up off the floor last night like I'd planned. He kept a safe distance from me, and I wondered if he was worried he wasn't desensitized enough after nearly eighteen hours apart. Then, he met my gaze, and I saw the apprehension in them and remembered that the last words we'd exchanged had been in anger and frustration.

He had growled at me.

It hadn't really had much of an effect on me at the time, but later, replaying the fight on my drive home, it had only made me angrier. How dare he try to scare me so I would stop arguing with him? Regardless of the fact that it hadn't worked, it was unacceptable.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday, Bella," he murmured. "I'm ashamed of myself."

"What are you apologizing for?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. It was one thing for him to realize he needed to apologize. I needed to know that he knew why he needed to apologize.

He looked shocked. "Bella, I growled at you! As if you were prey! I will never do that again, I swear to you."

I nodded, but didn't relax my posture. "Is that all?"

He frowned, and sighed, and shook his head, clenching his jaw. "I shouldn't have spoken to you the way that I did. It was very disrespectful, and I hope you can forgive me. I can only promise to try not to do so again."

He was getting there, but he didn't seem to know what had truly angered me the most. I could see that he wanted to, though, and that he wanted to make amends. He wanted to make this work. I bit my lip; I could feel myself beginning to soften for him.

"That's a good start, but you can't make decisions for me, Edward," I told him. "Why don't you try to make decisions with me instead?"

He reached out hesitantly to touch my cheek. "I'm a product of my time, Bella, and I've been without a partner for the whole of my very long life. It's not easy to remember that relationships, and the expectations that go along with them, have changed drastically, but I want to work on it with you. Can you be patient and help me achieve that?"

Slowly, I let my arms fall to my sides as I studied his face. He did look properly ashamed and contrite. I wondered if he had endured hell from Alice all night. She had, after all, witnessed our argument first hand.

I decided to forgive him. Everyone, even a one hundred and twenty year-old vampire, deserved a second chance. Especially when he was recognizing the need to work toward changing himself, and promising to try. "Yes. I can help to modernize you."

Immediately, I felt all the tension and frustration I had been holding onto for the past eighteen or so hours slide away. For a split second, when I brushed his hand aside, he looked hurt, but then I stepped forward, into him, and wrapped my arms around his lean waist. I pressed my face to his cool, firm chest and felt him still and stiffen momentarily, before he wrapped his arms around me and held me to him. He buried his face in my hair and breathed me in.

"I don't like arguing with you," I mumbled against his chest in a very small voice.

"Neither do I," Edward said. "So let's take this as a lesson in communication, and try to limit how often it happens in the future."

"I can work with that," I told him.

We stood like that for a very long time. The sky outside was almost its usual grey instead of nighttime black by the time Edward drew back.

"I have to admit, I didn't only come here to apologize," he told me.

"Oh?" I raised my eyebrows at him, prompting him to explain.

"I was wondering if you still wanted to spend the day with me," he said softly, stroking my hair, "or if you were too angry."

"Well, I'm not mad at you anymore, so…" I said, trailing off with a smile.

"I'll be back at nine, then. There will be enough cloud cover still," he promised with a soft smile of his own. "Tell your parents. I want to meet them. I want them to know you'll be with me. Please."

"Okay," I said reluctantly, then stiffened in his arms. It was so easy for him to get in here; suddenly, I was terrified it wasn't his first time climbing through my window. "Edward? Have you ever been in my room before?"

"No. I may have been tempted at first, before I knew if you could be trusted, but I couldn't cross that boundary," he said.

"Good." My relief was like a tangible thing in the air around us.

Curiosity flashed bright in his amber eyes. "Why?"

Frantic, I cast around for a plausible excuse. There was no way I could tell him that I was just really worried he had seen the way I tended to spend my nights before drifting off to a fitful sleep: touching myself and wishing it was him.

"Because that would be creepy," I blurted out.

"True, it would. But that's not the only reason. Tell me," he demanded.

I could see that he was going to press me for an answer, and I was very much beginning to regret questioning him in the first place when he froze. He looked towards the bedroom door and then broke free of my arms still on his waist and stepped to the window.

"Your parents are awake. I'll see you soon," he said in a low whisper, and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

When my door creaked open and Renee peeked her head in, I was gathering my clothes from the floor and throwing them into the hamper in my closet. I would have to get better about that – I didn't want Edward to think I was a slob.

"Good morning, Mom," I said.

"I thought I heard voices," she said, looking around suspiciously.

"Oh, sorry." I nodded at my phone charging next to my bed. "I was talking to Madison. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No." Renee shook her head and took a few steps further into the room, eyes scanning again, as if expecting to see a boy she'd missed on first inspection. "How is Madison?"

"She's okay, I guess." I shrugged. I had spoken to her a couple nights before, so I figured it was still probably true. "She and Conner are getting pretty serious, so she's happy, you know?"

"Bella." She sat on my bed, now, and looked at me sadly. "Honey, I want to talk to you. Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah, Mom. I'm fine," I said.

"It's just that I know you miss Phoenix and your friends there," she explained. "And your father and I know that we didn't give you much of a say in things before you and I moved back in here with him."

"Yeah, well. I mean… I'm your kid. Isn't that how it goes? You decide to pick up and move your life, then that means me too. Right?" I turned my back to her, scoping out my closet to see what I should wear today.

"Bella, look at me," Renee said, using a stern voice I so rarely ever heard from her, so I did as she asked. "I know how this place used to make me feel when I wasn't much older than you are. It's different for me now. I'm not so restless. I'm ready to settle down here and have a life with your father. But you've been so distant lately. Ever since we got here it's like all you do is go to school and then sit in your room, and I'm just so worried about you. If you feel like being in Phoenix is better for you, then we can talk about it. We can figure something out. Your father and I just want what's best for you."

I stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Why couldn't she have felt this way months ago? Actually, I was glad she hadn't felt this way sooner because then I wouldn't be with Edward now. I would be back in Phoenix, happy enough, believing that vampires were just scary monsters in stories. And how tragic would that be?

"I don't know, Mom," I said slowly, suddenly worried that I was about to be shipped away from Edward. "Forks isn't so bad, you know? It's actually… kind of nice."

"Forks is nice?" she repeated, inspecting me closely.

"Yeah! You know, I have friends now. Mike and Jessica and Angela and everyone, and they're really nice and they include me in things like La Push a couple weeks ago, and the Blacks, and I…" I paused, took a deep breath because I knew she had zeroed in on the way my face was growing red. "Mom, I don't want to go back to Phoenix anymore. I just needed to give Forks a chance."

How could I go back to Phoenix now? Sure, there was Madison, and I was sure there were still other people there who would talk to me despite the stupid mix-up with Dylan and Alana. But there was no Edward in Phoenix, could be no Edward in Phoenix because he couldn't live in places where there was sunshine all day every day.

She looked at me for a long while, and then nodded. She stood and walked over to me, placed her hands on either side of my face, and kissed my forehead. "You can tell me things, Bella," she said quietly. "You don't have to keep it all to yourself."

"Yeah, I know," I said. And I did know that. And it was probably the perfect opportunity to tell her about Edward. But I wasn't ready yet. I needed to clear my head first. "I need to take a shower."

"Okay," she said with a concerned frown. "I'll see you downstairs. I love you."

"Love you too, Mom," I said as she walked out the door.

I heard her footsteps on the stairs, heard her teasing my father for some mishap he had made in the kitchen while she was talking to me, and closed the bathroom door behind me, feeling guilty. I hadn't been fair to my parents lately. I had let them believe I was miserable this whole time and, sure, at first I was. But I was definitely not miserable anymore, hadn't been in a while. It was time to come clean.

I was downstairs, dressed in jeans, my only pair of hiking boots, and a long flannel, my hair twisted into a braid down my back, by 8:45. I could have been ready earlier, but I was putting off speaking to my parents. There was no point in lying to myself about it; I was a coward. I had never brought a boy home before. There had never been a boy to bring home before. I didn't know how they would react, but I could only imagine it would be painfully awkward for me. Edward would probably enjoy himself, though.

"Morning, Bells," Charlie said when I walked into the kitchen. He and Renee were sitting at the shabby kitchen table eating burnt toast and dry eggs and drinking too-strong coffee by the smell of it.

I nodded and grabbed a plain bagel out of the pantry, smearing it with cream cheese. I took a bite while I poured myself a glass of orange juice, finishing as quickly as I could there at the counter. It was now or never. If I didn't tell them before he got here, it would only be even worse, and so much more awkward. That, and Edward would likely never let me live it down.

"I have a date with Edward Cullen today," I blurted out as I rinsed my cup. Behind me, I heard a tiny cough as Charlie swallowed his coffee wrong. Renee cut off mid-sentence while telling a story about the dog who liked to sleep on the stoop outside of her new studio.

"What?" Charlie demanded hoarsely.

"How exciting!" Renee said.

"He's going to be here soon," I said, turning around to face them and leaning against the counter, gnawing on my lip. "He wants to meet you."

"I don't like it. He's too old for you," Charlie said quickly.

"We're in the same grade, Dad." I rolled my eyes, though technically he was right. I supposed it was all a matter of semantics, but I didn't really consider him too old for me; Edward may have held the knowledge of a century's worth of learning, but he was still seventeen, wasn't he?

"Charlie!" Renee hissed, and turned to me with a wide grin. "We're so happy for you, Bella."

"Which one is he?" Charlie asked, his red face scrunching unhappily as he tried to picture all of the Cullens.

"The youngest one, with the reddish-brown hair," I told him. Edward looked younger than the rest of his family, but Charlie was still turning steadily more purple. "Dad you like the Cullens. You said so yourself. You didn't talk to Billy for over year because he was rude about them."

"That was before you were dating one of them," he grumbled, but grew quiet when Renee swiped at his arm with the newspaper she had been scanning.

"Is this the same Edward who drove you home from Port Angeles the other week?" Renee asked, eager for more information. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"I don't know, Mom," I said, my voice pitching upwards close to a whine. I really didn't want to do this right now, especially not with Charlie looking like he had a whole egg lodged in his throat. "Yeah, I guess, but it's kind of new, so please don't make it weird."

"I knew it!" Renee exclaimed triumphantly. "Is he cute? Oh, I bet he's cute!"

"Well, you'll find out in a few minutes. He's picking me up at nine," I said, glancing at the clock. Only five more minutes.

"Where is he taking you at nine o'clock in the morning on a Saturday?" Charlie demanded, but his blood pressure was visibly dropping as he calmed himself, his face slowly fading back to his normal coloring.

"We're going hiking." When both of my parents paused and exchanged a glance, I scowled at them. "I don't know where, so I'm not sure when we'll be back."

"You're going hiking?" Charlie repeated, blinking stupidly at me.

"Yes," I said through gritted teeth. "The Cullens are all really into the outdoors. Especially when the weather is nice."

That was their story, anyway. I figured it would be best to stick to it.

"You must really like this boy," Renee said and I glared at her, my face burning.

There was a knock at the door and I hurried to answer it. It had only been a little more than two hours since I'd seen him, but it was like taking a breath of fresh air when I opened the door. Then I saw the amusement twinkling in his topaz eyes and my stomach dropped. It was anyone's guess what was going through Charlie and Renee's minds right now.

"Don't do that," I hissed. "Tune them out or something."

He only smiled at me and said, at a normal volume, "Good morning, Bella. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you. How did you sleep?" I said, glancing over my shoulder to see that Renee was peeking around the kitchen doorway to get a glimpse of Edward.

"Oh, come on in!" Renee said, rushing forward when she realized I had spotted her.

"Yeah, make yourself at home," Charlie said, sounding less sincere as he followed Renee into the foyer.

"Chief Swan, Mrs. Swan, I'm Edward Cullen," he said, brushing past me to step inside as if I wasn't intentionally trying to keep him from my parents. "I wanted to formally introduce myself and thank you for allowing me to take Bella out today."

"Edward, please call me Renee, and this is Charlie," Renee said, laying a hand on my father's arm. "Oh, here, let me take your jacket."

"No, don't take off your jacket," I said quickly, and grabbed his arm to stop him when he started to comply. "We're leaving in a minute."

"There's no rush," Edward said, but wisely did as I asked. "The trail isn't going anywhere."

"Which trail are you hiking today, Edward?" Charlie said. "Nothing too dangerous, I hope?"

"Oh, there's a trail on the Elk Creek Conservation Area," Edward said lightly. "It runs along the creek and it's got some really lovely views. Bella will be perfectly safe with me; it's just too nice a day to spend indoors."

"I know which one you're talking about," Charlie said with an approving nod, then tilted his head in my direction. "Nice and easy."

"Dad," I said with a pained grimace.

"Charlie," Renee said, coming to the rescue. "Let's not keep them. Edward's right; it is too nice a day to waste."

"Yeah, Edward, let's go," I said, putting my hands on his biceps and trying to push him out the door. He humored me by taking several steps back toward the door.

"Ah, just a minute, Bell," Charlie said, stopping me with a hand on my arm.

"I'll wait outside, Bella," Edward said. "It was really nice to meet you."

"Oh, you too, Edward. You're welcome here anytime," Renee said, almost giddy under Edward's smile.

"Not any time," Charlie corrected sternly. "Daylight hours, when Renee and I are home."

"Yes, Charlie, of course," Edward said sagely.

"Dad!" I said again, and turned to Edward with what I was sure was a very red face. "I'll be right out, Edward."

He was smiling, laughing softly as he stepped out onto the front porch.

"What?" I demanded, turning to face my parents with a scowl.

"I want you to take this," Charlie said seriously, placing a small black canister in the palm of my hand. Inspecting it, I realized it was a canister of police grade pepper spray. "You remember those self defense moves I showed you, right?"

"Oh, my God. That is so unnecessary. Edward's really great," I said, but I slid the pepper spray into my pocket anyway, knowing it was the quickest way to get out of the house. "Can I please go now?"

"Yes," Renee said before Charlie could protest, stepping in front of him to cut him out of the conversation. She gripped my arms in her hands and kissed me on the forehead. "He seems very sweet and so handsome. You have a good time."

"Thanks, love you, bye!" I said, turning on my heel and running out the door before either of them could say anymore.

Edward was waiting by the passenger's door as he did every morning, chuckling at the expression on my face.

"Don't say anything. This is all your fault," I said, but I was smiling too as I slipped past him and slid into the car.

ffn/AO3

#twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #twilight fanfic #edward x bella #bella x edward #edward cullen #bella swan

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ofsilverevents-blog · 7 years

Photo

DATE: March 22nd TIME: 6:00 PM LOCATION: El Corazón Bordello

Faces both familiar and not seem to crowd the thick, cloying air of the bar. The lights are low and the seats are full -- standing room only, the man at the door says, and still they come, packing in between chairs and finding a place wherever they can. Though there are drinks to be had and revelries to be enjoyed, as they say, every face seems half-turned toward the massive viewing screen behind the bar. It was installed only in the past few weeks, as new management has decided to make an event of the spectacle -- those Silvers with their poisonous luxuries and deceit. Watch how they dance for the cameras, spinning tales and exerting their power. Watch, and learn.

RYN ANDROS has been working a double. Their very eyes seem to ache in their head, yet they cannot help but linger as they flip the switch to turn the screen on. It flashes for a moment before flickering to something boring, some trivial propaganda about the war. Everyone is used to these sorts of broadcasts. It’s one comes on next that takes hold of their interest. Someone taps on the bar, all irritated impatience, and they whirl, ready to serve them whatever it is they’re so desperate to poison themselves with. Their hands are nimble around the neck of a bottle and they pour, but their ears are trained on the programming behind them. Everyone waits for the pin to drop.

On the opposite end of the bar, a man sits on a stool, all casual demeanor and observant eyes. He scans the room in seconds before returning back to a few key people, people no one else would pick from a crowd -- but NATHANIEL MOORE knows that they are more than they appear to be. He watches, waiting, tense despite his calm appearance, for their reactions. Reds have never been invited to vote on a Queenstrial before, but everything about this one seems... different. Isla had said the new King would help them, but Nate has reserved judgement, and now he watches, waiting for some sign that he would be right to place his trust. He doesn’t take leaps of faith. Not anymore.

Seated beside each other, with silk falling into their laps and luscious smiles on their lips, AURORA DEVERA and DARIO WILKS entertain and dazzle their clientele. Las mariposas have a reputation to uphold, whatever is playing on the video screen, and they do it with grace. Aurora laps up attention like a cat with cream, while Dario’s genuine smile causes cooing from a host of Reds and lower house Silvers alike. Even their eyes waver, though, drawn to the spectacle to come. No one knows what to expect anymore, and it makes customers as nervous as it makes them. Will this new venture succeed? Will the Reds truly get a say? Who can tell, when they still know so little of what’s to come?

All at once, the lights flicker off as a passing server notes the time. The war broadcast ends and a new one begins, with a face both familiar and not -- Atalanta Thany has been mysteriously replaced by her predecessor and cousin, AMBROSINE. With a warm yet impersonal smile, she welcomes her viewers across the nation amid gasps of surprise from all corners. ❝ Good evening citizens of Norta! It is my duty and pleasure to present this year’s Crownstrial, an event to be remembered across the land. The moment our Flame in the North, King Orion Calore, will establish and cement his reign. At the end, he will crown a fellow ruler, to share with him the trials and tribulations of governing our grand country. Now, I could talk on and on, but I think I know what you’re all waiting for. As our Red population will be voting for this Crownstrial competition, the crown thought it would help if you got to know your competitors a bit better. Without further ado, I present to you this year’s Crownstrial -- let the ceremonies begin! ❞

The screen fades to black before slowly focusing in once more. Faces flash by one at a time, each with a chance to introduce themselves --

❝ My name is Prisha, representing House Arven. ❞ ❝ I am Lady Sofiya, female heir to House Provos. ❞ ❝ I am Lady Leira, first daughter of House Osanos. ❞ ❝ I am Cyrene Nor, untitled, baseborn daughter to House Tyros. ❞ ❝ I am Lady Romilly, first daughter of House Gliacon. ❞ ❝ I am Lord Slate, lone heir to House Blonos. ❞ ❝ My name is Valeria Macanthos, and I am King Orion’s personal guard. ❞ ❝ Hello citizens of Norta, I am Lady Calista of House Eagrie. ❞ ❝ I am Zaira Anais of House Samos -- twenty one years of age. ❞ ❝ My name is Lei Nolle, and I will be competing for House Nolle. ❞ ❝ My name is Vezina, first daughter of House Carros. ❞ ❝ Citizens of Norta, my name is Nyssa of House Samos. ❞ ❝ I am Lord Emory, heir of House Osanos. ❞

One by one they say their names, their titles, and each face holds a different story. Vezina Carros captures both casual and calm, Zaira Samos holds a secret in her smile, and Lei Nolle cannot quite catch your eye, even when staring into a camera. The brightest flash of personality hides within these introductions, and as they come together, a simple black screen shows clean, white text. Simple. Not flashy. CROWNSTRIAL.

No questions are answered on camera, yet a narrative may be drawn from the answers nonetheless. ZAIRA SAMOS speaks with the Silver tongue of one born to rule, and her answers are as pretty as the pale flush to her cheeks. There is a warmth to her that has never been present when she’s physically in the room -- but for the broadcast, for the crown, she shines as brightly as the metal she controls. For those who look and listen deeper, they notice that her words are quite pretty -- and equally vague, promising change but not the direction she looks toward. She is quite careful, but the message is clear: do not underestimate me.

The unsure bachelor rises next, from the ashes Zaira has left. SLATE BLONOS is sincere almost to the point of liability -- and in truth, there are many who will not believe it at all. He is simply too honest, his eyes too wide, and his impression of a deer caught in the headlights ( as genuine as it might have been ) is cut together so masterfully, it casts just a hint of suspicion. There’s something in the way he looks to the left of the camera, sometimes, or maybe something in the way he stumbles over his answer about telling the truth. The cut is imperceptibly fuzzy around the edges, and it’s clear the video maker has plans in store for him.

Combating the unsure footing left by the Blonos heir, the camera cuts to a woman with such confidence it sears through the camera. It surprises anyone watching that the interviewer didn’t step back, with that fierce gaze piercing theirs. CYRENE NOR does not bandy for the cameras, yet she commands presence and interest nonetheless, her voice holding the purring edge of mystery and adventure that fascinates. It doesn’t matter if she’ll make a good queen -- she makes good TV. She says she can do what no one else can thanks to information no one else can reach, and when she does, her eyes meet the camera for the first time. It’s a clever spell, one that will fool most, but not all who watch her as she promises to bring forth the darkness of the city and eradicate it.

A smile is the first thing that catches attention as the camera cuts to SOFIYA PROVOS, clad in daring fashion and straight, white teeth. She talks fast enough that she gets out the most information about her platform, and for those who understand rule and politicking, it is intelligent, straightforward -- hell, it’s damn near brilliant. Her words, however, bore the crowd that watches for entertainment. She wins approval just a bit, because the excitement in her eyes shows promise, and because they’ve seen her before, on the screen beside the Princess. Beyond that, she speaks over the heads of most of the citizenry she wishes to rule. If Sofiya wants to rule, she will have to do more than that to impress the masses.

It takes a moment to recognize the competitor that follows. Many are still reeling from the introduction to Sofiya’s sharp mind, and when LEI NOLLE introduces herself, she’s so soft spoken almost as to go unnoticed. It’s clear that they had little footage to work with, yet the elders, the traditionalists, see something in her. A queen who would bow to her king in all things. A submissive queen who would bring them back to what they were, before this young ruler and his foolish idealism and naivety. She earns some haphazard support in that regard, but not enough to make her memorable. The moment her clip flashes from the screen, she is forgotten, notable only in passing as the person to replace the storm that is Kassiopea Nolle.

VEZINA CARROS half-lounges in her seat, though she doesn’t mean to -- she doesn’t exactly present herself as a regal persona. Her dialogue, however, is moving. There’s something in her raw honesty that captivates more than Slate’s had -- and her speech about her mother tugs on the heartstrings of the nation. Through the Feats, even the Red population has been able to see the truth in her words. Vezina has never done what her family wanted from her, and now that she is, it’s an arc that the people can rally behind. Those who lost friends or family to the bombing feel in their hearts the same message she’s giving now, and it garners support with many of them. Besides, everyone loves a tomboy-turned-princess, and what’s better than princess unless you’re being Queen?

The interviewer has not been a presence thus far, so it surprises many to hear them addressed in the next fade in from black. NYSSA SAMOS sits with regal bearing and her head held high, admonishing rudeness that none can see. It leaves her vulnerable to vitriol, and the crowd is affected by her anger -- a queen should not be angry, after all. The speech cuts to her discussion of how she once manipulated others, and the hatred grows in many hearts, her assurances seeming weak in the wake of her own admitted dishonesty. It seems as if she will be cast the villain, but the tone shifts slightly, and the music softens. Nyssa speaks of her admiration of Orion and his goals, and when she describes change, she means it. She leaves them waiting on the edges of their seats, wanting to know more, wanting to know who to believe. The girl with stars in her eyes or rage in her heart? Only time will tell, the video seems to tease.

The warm eyes and soft curls of VALERIA MACANTHOS greet Nortans next, as she proves her devotion to the crown on national television. It’s a romantic premise, a guard falling in love with her then-prince, now king, but the way she says it with no romance involved only intrigues them further. It isn’t a fairytale -- it’s more of a soft thing, a protective thing. Valeria’s eyes seem to flash when she mentions it. All remember the tragedy that struck the royals over a year ago, when Prince Orion’s guard was killed. Valeria gathered a sympathetic cause during that time, and that carries forward even now, as the people feel a soft spot within their hearts for her once more. Perhaps not love, yet, but what a perfect love story it would be, no?

The fiery river of her hair preceeds LEIRA OSANOS, as personable as she is not. There is a force to her personality, to be sure, but she is unconvincing when asked if she agrees with the changes the king is bringing forward. This intrigues many, for the simple fact that it will produce televised drama, but it does not endear them. She captures the minds of the old world Silvers as easily as she loses the Reds who will vote for Orion’s consideration. With every word, something is gained and something is lost. It’s clear that Leira has made her decision on what is most important to her to keep. The question becomes, is it the right one? For many, the answer is no -- she earns friends and enemies alike by the end of it, a polarizing force.

It’s almost impressive, how the following competitor manages to terrify despite her petite physique. On camera she looks almost frail, but when she moves, there’s a strength to her that defies all sense of logic. PRISHA ARVEN is a power and she makes it known, early on and without mercy. She doesn’t pretend to smile and preen -- she commands respect on reputation alone, and the Arvens have always been something to be feared. She does not try to win hearts, but she does want to win minds -- and her devotion to the crown is nothing less than ironclad. She speaks of a united front, a formidable force, and to those who have been caught on the war front, the idea of a stronger ruling duo appeals greatly... if only for the opportunity to scare their enemies.

The screen cuts once again to someone new, someone far more believably delicate than the last. CALISTA EAGRIE holds her hands in her lap, her posture pristine and her smile soft. The footage is cut together to illustrate her almost dream-like description of Norta’s future, her admiration for the king, and the far-off stare she sometimes gets, one heavily associated with House Eagrie. There is a mystery to her -- what does she know, what will she know -- that earns her support, a dark horse with a white light shining from her heart. She seems naive but devoted, open-hearted yet mysterious, and the contrast between what is expected of her House and what she’s delivered keeps people on their toes. Everyone wants to know the future, and especially to Reds who don’t really understand how Eyes work, the idea of a Queen who can see what’s coming appeals greatly to them.

ROMILLY GLIACON is the next to pop onto the screen, with a cold distance that no one can truly be sure is an act. Is she playing up the nature of her House, or is she always so removed, even as she speaks of the future? She talks about understanding how to build strength even from the weakest of points, about how watching Princess Adeline and the other royals all her life has garnered an interest in ruling in the future. About how fire and ice make a great pairing, and when she laughs, the country laughs with her. She is a little bit awkward, a little bit cold, but she is beautiful and she is close to the royals. She might have been forgettable as Lei, if not for those, but they will elevate her into the middle of the pack.

There is a sultry laugh that comes before the vision of black has truly faded, and AREUM MARINOS is behind it. Her eyes are on the camera as she speaks, and her voice, for all that she is a Banshee, is neither grating nor foul. Instead it is hypnotic, almost, purely of her own charisma as she discusses the joy it brings her to compete in a Crownstrial of her own free will. The choice is a powerful enough one that it has certainly swayed her to the King’s side, and her approval of his future decisions seems clear, just as it is clear that she will not take a back seat to them. In Areum, it is obvious that Norta would find a leader, rather than a follower. Her celebrity, beauty and charm appeal to very many.

Last but not least, EMORY OSANOS comes to life before all of Norta. His smile is all charm, but his shoulders hunch in slightly, unconsciously -- and to those who are looking for it, he is nervous. It’s a sweet tale, best friends who may become more, but when Emory licks his lips and begins to speak about truth and omission, every room falls silent. I am in love with him, and I want to be with him, and he does not know. Crownstrial has always, even as Queenstrial, sold the illusion of love, but never has it been so plainly stated from the outset. There is a flurry of sound as whispers and shouts roar into life, everyone with something to say on the matter. Some are outraged that the King’s personal guard would take advantage of his station -- others are swooning at the star-crossed lovers they’ve found in this tale. Emory has stolen the show, for good or ill, and as the broadcast fades to black and Ambrosine fans her face, it’s clear that this was the climactic ending she was waiting to reveal.

❝ And there you have it! Your competitors for the Crown, your future King or Queen, perhaps, has spoken. The battles have been selected and will now be revealed -- place your bets now, and don’t forget to tune in for the main event! Round One begins in two days time. ❞ With that, the ending theme plays, and Ryn flicks off the screen to the sound of furious discussion behind her.

THIS IS THE START OF CROWNSTRIAL. We will be releasing the four linked biographies within the hour, all of which will be open for application. Things to keep in mind:

Stay tuned to see the bracket of who has been paired for opening battle royale. When the bracket is released, we will also be releasing how the scheduling and the actual fights will progress both IC and OOC. This will come later today.

Starters from this point to the beginning of Crownstrial will be dated between March 22nd and March 24th. You are more than welcome to place starters anywhere in flashbacks as well, as long as they are dated for the accurate timeframe of the plot you want to start in.

#crownstrial #ofsilverevent

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