#and he once again tried to throw nick under the bus

[thelastfriendly]

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 3

It's been so long since I updated this you probably should go back and read parts 1 and 2.

Steve gets to the competition and tries to settle his nerves.

Part 1 Part 2

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The trip to Chicago was a hard one. As much as Steve just wanted Eddie to come it would have looked suspicious, so Wayne and Jeff came too. Steve had been hoping for time with Eddie alone in a big city where they could get lost and spend time just doing couple-y things, as it was a school event it would look suspicious if only Eddie came.

So he grudgingly accepted the support of Jeff and Wayne to see him go up against this region of the country’s best swimmers. If all went well, then they would all get scholarships and go on to nationals. If it didn’t, then they could at least say they made it this far.

When Steve got to the school he realized how much he really hadn’t thought the trip through. The school was sending the four of them and both coaches to Chicago in a fucking school bus. He would be bunking with Ezra while Lyle and Nick would share a room. Wayne grinned when he realized that he would get a hotel room all to himself. Eddie just groaned.

So the five hour drive to Chicago was dreadful instead of laughing with Eddie and Jeff, he ended up in an argument with Lyle whether Depche Mode was alternative rock or new age pop. Steve was firmly in the alt rock camp. He was about to throw hands when he realized that he had heard a similar argument between Brian and Jeff about whether hair bands could be considered metal or not. In the end? It didn’t matter because something could be two things at once.

Suddenly he started laughing and Lyle looked at him like he was crazy.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a grin. “I just realized that the argument was pointless because they can both. Some of the stuff can be classified as new age pop while others are more alt rock. Why argue about it? We both like them. Who cares if we don’t agree what genre they are?”

Nick and Lyle glanced at each other while the coaches snickered to themselves. Ezra tilted his head and smiled fondly at Steve. Steve looked up to find Ezra’s eyes linger on him for a moment longer than necessary. He flushed under the sudden attention and ducked his head. When he looked up again, Ezra was talking to Lyle about The Cure.

All through the rest of the trip to Chicago, there were times Steve was sure Ezra was looking at but he didn’t dare look up to confirm it. If he hadn’t been with Eddie, Steve would have been sure that Ezra was flirting with him and sure he would have mocked his co-captain for being queer. Now though? Steve could be imagining the longing looks and blatant yearning. Because he had to be careful not to accidentally out himself before he graduated.

They got to the hotel and checked in. The first thing Ezra and the other boys wanted to do was check out hotel’s swimming pool, as if they weren’t going to spending enough time drenched in chlorinated water as it was. So Steve waved them off and said he was going to grab some dinner and catch up with them later.

He walked into the hotel dinning area and breathed a sigh of relief. There at one of the tables in the back was three of his favorite people, Eddie, Wayne, and Jeff. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the boys on the swim team. Because of course he did. He just didn’t consider them to be friends.

“Hey,” he called out and they wave him over, allowing him to slip past the hostess to their table.

He sat close to Eddie with Jeff and Wayne on the other side of the table, picking up a menu.

“You guys order yet?” he asked, distractedly.

Jeff shook his head. “We were waiting for you. Eddie ordered you a Hi-C though.”

Steve smiled at Eddie. “Thanks.”

Eddie shoved his hair in mouth as he looked away shyly. “It was the least I could do since you had to take the giant bread loaf from hell.”

Steve snorted. “It wasn’t as bad as it usually was as there was only six of us, but yeah. It was a hot as the devil’s anus.”

Jeff barked out a laugh. “Holy hell, dude. Warn a man, I could have been taking a drink.”

Wayne just rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, the waiter arrived and they ordered their meals.

They chatted happily until they finished their meals. Steve and Eddie slipped away for moment before Steve had to make it back to his room for “curfew.”

“I love having you here, sunshine,” Steve murmured, their bodies pressed together in one long line. “I feel I can take on the world because my real family is here rooting for me.”

Eddie kissed him gently on the lips. “And we’ll always will, baby. Okay?”

Steve nodded.

“Do you think Jeff would be pissed if we kicked him out of our hotel room tonight?” Eddie asked with a feral grin.

“Yes,” Steve said with a giggle. “He would be absolutely livid, you menace.”

Eddie pouted. “But, sweetheart...”

Steve kissed him fiercely. “I’m not say no to you fucking me into some horrible hotel mattress, all I’m saying is ask your best friend nicely to go site seeing with Uncle Wayne tomorrow afternoon after the first meet so I don’t have to look into those big brown puppy dog eyes of Jeff’s and tell him I went along with your madcap plan.”

Eddie cackled. “Yeah, all right. That’s fair.”

“I’ve got to get to my hotel room before Coach Hall does a room check,” Steve murmured. “I’ll see you at the meet?”

Eddie nodded. “Love you, baby.”

Steve kissed him again. “Love you, too, Eds.”

****

Steve got back to his hotel room just under the gun. He had just toed off his shoes when Coach Hall knocked on their door. Ezra stood up and let him in.

Coach Hall turned to Steve. “Don’t think I didn’t see you make a mad dash for your room, young man. Tomorrow I expect to see you in room before the curfew and not at the curfew. Do you understand me?”

Steve nodded. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“Our practice time is at 6am sharp,” he continued. “I will see both of you there on the dot.”

Both boys nodded.

Coach Hall eyed them warily, but nodded curtly. He left to meet Coach Burton who had been checking on Lyle and Nick out in the hallway.

Ezra closed the door behind him with satisfying thud. It wasn’t slammed, the coaches couldn’t claim that, but it sounded with a finality that pleased Steve to no end.

“What’s the point of having the curfew at ten if they’re going to make us be in our rooms before that?” Ezra asked. “It’s fucking ridiculous. You made it before curfew. That’s all that should matter.”

Steve blushed from the way Ezra defended him. “Thanks, man. I think they’re more nervous then we are about tomorrow. Hopefully after the individuals tomorrow they’ll feel better about our chances.”

Ezra shrugged. “I guess, but it’s still bullshit Hall took it out on you. Burton is usually the hardass, not Hall.”

Steve nodded. “Well, we better get to sleep before they start bitching about our lights being on.”

And as if on cue, they heard Burton yell, “Lights out!!”

Ezra and Steve looked at each other and then started to laugh.

They hurried to get into their pajamas and hit the light. They each crawled into their separate twin beds and laid there looking at the ceiling in the dark.

“Do you think you’ll be scouted for any of the major colleges?” Ezra asked, rolling over on his side to face Steve.

Steve tucked his arm under his head. “God I hope so,” he murmured. “Otherwise, I’m not getting in.”

Steve couldn’t see Ezra’s expression in the dark, but he could hear his confusion when he asked, “What do you mean?”

“My concussion pretty much tanked my grades,” Steve explained. “I am barely passing my classes and I have to get at least a C average to get into those schools. Which I’m not even close to hitting right now.”

“So getting to regionals is really important for you, huh?” Ezra asked. “I hope they scout you, man. You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” Steve mumbled. He thought about all the things he wanted to do with his life. And how he thought, not too long ago, that he would just work for his dad, get married, have six kids, and die.

But now? A future without Eddie doesn’t seem like any kind of future at all. He thought of Eddie’s band, wondering if they would make it. Maybe after high school instead of college the two of them should just runaway together.

It all seemed jumbled up in his head and with all those whirling thoughts, Steve drifted off to sleep.

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @counting-dollars-counting-stars @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @y4r3luv @acingthecounts @cryptid-system

[multifan2022]

Cyclone x MavsDaughter part 3

Part 1      Part 2      PART 4

MASTERLIST

Hangman had been looking and waiting for anything he could take to Cyclone to get an advantage over the others. Any error in judgment that he could exploit, and he thought he found it. After finding a picture of Maverick and a man who very closely resembled Rooster he dove knee deep into research. Scouring the internet until he found an Obit for one Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw. He also found an old Instagram page that he saved many pictures off of before heading to Cyclones office. 

He was walking on cloud nine, thinking he had all the evidence he needed to get the two biggest competitors taken out of the running. But when he lifted his hand to knock on the glass all his hopes died. Because the door swung open and there you were, cheeks flushed and eyes wide as you looked up at him. The smell of sex and sweat wafted out of the room behind you and you knew that Hangman could read all the signs. There was a pit in the bottom of your stomach as you watched him think all the things you were scared people would say. 

Jake went to open his mouth, to say something along the lines of “Sleeping your way to the top again?” when Cyclone stepped up behind you asking what was wrong. When his eyes landed on Jake his spine straightened and the slightly soft look in his eyes turned steely. Jake's mouth was dry and he took notice of how close the two of you were standing. How pink your cheeks and neck were. That Beaus hair was just slightly out of place, like it had been messed up and someone tried to hand comb it back into place. It was a look Jake knew well, both on himself and on the women he sent packing. 

“Lieutenant Seresin, inside.. Now.” 

Jake didn't move as you practically sprinted from the hall, Cyclone having to repeat himself to get him into the office. The door slamming shut and the Admiral stomping gave him goosebumps. This was not how he thought his morning would go. Once Cyclone was in front of him, he leaned on his hands on the desk, looking the younger man directly in the eye. He could tell Jake was nervous, and that was good. That's how he wanted him to feel. He knew plenty of flyboys like Jake. 

Ones that unfortunately would throw others under the bus, or leave them behind in pursuit of his own glory. He knew that if the blond was coming to his office it was because he thought he had damning evidence on someone. Jake's previous commanding officer had warned him about this. And unfortunately Cyclone's own actions may have just given him the upper hand. But he was sure as hell going to try and squash that. “Sir.. I have some thoughts..” Jake tried to start, but a hand was thrown up and a sigh escaped from the Admirals lips before he could really get going. 

“I didnt bring you back here for your thoughts Seresin. I brought you back here because you are a damn good pilot and I would hate to see that go to waste because your mouth writes checks you can't cash. Whatever you think, you think. You're wrong. You're going to walk out of this office, and we are both going to forget that we saw each other today. If that becomes unclear between the two of us, you will be sent packing so fast that not even Commander Kazansky will be able to stop it. Are we clear?” 

Jake blinked twice, staring up at Cyclone like he was lost or confused. Only to jump up and nod when the man was forced to repeat himself. When he was allowed to leave, he did so quickly but with attitude, stomping his feet and huffing the entire way to training. 

~~

You could tell tension was high as you all took turns in the air, and then made your way back to your seats. Hangman had been shooting death glares at you, while Rooster was giving you those stupid puppy dog eyes. Your dad was standing up repeating the same question “Why are you dead?” over and over all day. You knew it was a good question, one that needed answered but damn was it annoying. Now he was looking at the Rooster, completely passing over you and your team. He had yet to speak to you directly since the flying incident. 

Phoenix spoke, trying to defend not only her team leader, but her friend. “Sir, he's the only one who made it to the target.” Mav shook his head “A minute late. He gave enemy aircraft time to shoot him down, he is dead.” Rooster's voice was deep and simmering with anger just underneath as he spoke. “You don't know that.” The tension in the room jumped up another notch as Hangman spoke, your fists clenching together at the sound of his voice. 

“You're not flying fast enough! You don't have a second to waste.” You started to just tune the three of them out, they always got in this little circle of whos dick is bigger. It was getting exhausting listening to them go around and around each other every day. In the air, in the classroom, even in the damn gym.  You didn't really start listening again until you heard Hangman say “A MAN flies like Maverick here, or a MAN does not come back.” Jake smiled and looked between you and Phoenix “No offense intended.” Surprisingly it was Bob who leaned forwards and scoffed, “Yet somehow you always manage.”

Jake unsurprisingly continued “I don't mean to criticize, you're conservative. That's all.” Maverick tried to stop him but he just kept going. “We're going into combat son.” You scoffed this time, both you and Rooster were older than him. “On a level no living pilot has ever seen. Not even him, and Not Valkyrie.” You watched as Jake turned and must've given your dad a look, because realization passed over Mavs features as he turned to look at you. You put all the pieces into place just as the next words came out of that cocky mouth. “Its no time to be thinkin about the past.” 

Everything happened in slow motion for you after that. You didnt know Rooster well. But you knew Bradley like that back of your hand, and that would be who he always was when Goose was mentioned. The little boy who watched his mom fall apart and only be able to partially rebuild herself after her husband died. The teen boy who had to turn to his uncles instead of his father to ask questions about puberty and girls. The young man who was deeply in love but didnt know how to show it, or what to do. Who was so scared of hurting someone the way his mom was hurt that he punished not only himself, but his loved ones by walking away. 

“I cant be the only one to know that Maverick flew with his old man.” 

You didn't make the choice to speak, but you heard yourself calling out to Bradley as Maverick told Jake to stop talking. You knew it wasn't going to work, but you called his name trying to get his attention anyways.  Your legs were already pushing themselves up as Jake tried to finish his statement. “Or that Maverick was flying when his old man..” Rooster was out of his seat, his arms reaching past you as you moved in front of him. He was so tall, that even at your height he still managed to shove the man behind you. Everyone was yelling, you were trying to push Bradley back while Coyote pushed Jake back. It took you, Phoenix, Bob, and Payback all to hold Rooster back. 

Your hands were on his cheeks, trying to direct his attention away from Jake as you spoke. “Bradley, this is what he wants.. He wants to rattle you, get in your head and make it so you can't fly this mission. He's weak minded and scared that you are better than he is. Don't let him win, walk away. Let's go.” Bradley couldn't look down at you, he could feel the coldness of your ring on your finger but your voice was clearing up the haze of anger in his mind just a little. Just as he was about to nod his head and give in, Jake chuckled. 

“Well if it isn't Little Miss Nepotism herself speaking.. Daddys right here, so you can't run off and tell him.. What are you gonna do, tell your hubby and have me kicked off the team?” 

Dropping your hands from Roosters face, you turned, and watched as the gathered men near Hangman stepped back. Other pilots often said that Y/n and Valkyrie were like separate people. That your facial expressions when you were in fight mode were scary, and you guessed by the way the others took a step back from you that they were right. You crossed the short distance, getting right into Hangman's face, thankfully hes only a few inches taller than you.  The smile that worked its way onto your face set Jake on edge. You both knew what he was playing at. 

That he knew why you were in Cyclones office, and was planning to out you right here. What Jake didn't know was you didn't need anyone to fight your battles. “Sure.. I could turn you into my husband for harassment, maybe get you sent home.. Or I could just shoot you out of the sky myself and be done with it.” Shock crossed his face for just a moment as he stood there silently for once. Everyone was genuinely shocked, they had never really heard you talk so maliciously to anyone besides Mav. 

The room was so silent that one could've heard a pin drop. Maverick and Rooster were breathing heavily as you and Jake glared at each other. “You're all dismissed.” Mav said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He watched as you took two steps back, placing yourself between your Ex boyfriend and the one who was trying to hurt him. He had to remind himself that you were married now, there was no chance for you and Bradley. Jake left first, a few of his friends leaving behind him and as soon as the doors closed you rounded on him. “Fix this, whatever it is, before it gets someone killed.” 

That was all you said before storming out yourself.

~~~~

The next morning you felt better, you had taken a long and extremely hot bath after Beau had gotten home. He had cooked dinner, put Emery to bed, loaded the dishwasher and then brought you a glass of whiskey. He didn't ask to get in behind you, just crouched down next to the tub as you told him about everything that had happened. He had shaken his head, and told you how worried he was that this group wouldn't be able to complete the mission. You had gotten a good night sleep but of course when you woke up fate had other things planned for you. Two texts changed literally the entire plan of your day.

AbsentMav- “Team training beach day. Sleep in. Be there at noon. Bring coolers and towels.”

EmsTeach- “Hey Cap! Sorry for the short notice but schools canceled today :(“

Sighing you made your way downstairs, shocked to see Emery watching cartoons and Beaus' truck gone from the driveway. Deciding that Emery could just go with you wasn't as easy as you thought it should be. Sure she knew Penny and you were should the woman would watch her, but Maverick would be there.. You hadn't even told him who you were married to let alone that you had a 9 year old.. But you shrugged to yourself and went to pack Ems bag. As soon as she realized she was going to work with you she was squealing and running around to find her sandals and favorite big bug sunglasses. 

Your nerves spiked like crazy as you pulled up to the hard deck and parked. It was easy to see you were the last to arrive and would have everyone's attention on you. Hell you already did, because Beau had removed the top and doors off your jeep the weekend before so Phoenix, Bob and Fanboy were all close enough to see the wiggling little person in your back seat. Bob smiled shyly and waved at her as she screeched for you to hurry, pulling a chuckle from Fanboy. 

Maverick and Rooster's eyes were glued to you as you got out and walked to the backseat. Their eyes widen as they watch you pull the dark haired girl from the booster seat in the middle. They watched as you crouched down, fixing her hair and pulling a hat over it. Rubbing in sunscreen before handing her the sunglasses back and strapping a little backpack onto her back. You held her hand as she skipped and waved at everyone that looked her way. When you got to the group you took a deep breath and looked at Maverick. “School was canceled, I was gonna ask Penny if she would watch Emery while we do whatever exercise this is.” 

Maverick nodded, watching without speaking as you walked towards the deck and talked to Penny. He had completely forgotten Rooster was even there until he heard his voice. “I didn't know she had a kid..” Maverick could see the devastation on his god son's face. The woman he had always dreamed about, the one he had left, whose heart he had broken was truly moved on. Shrugging he tried to make the blow land softer, “Maybe she's a step kid?” He could see Rooster shake his head as the two of them watched you kneel and smile up at your daughter. Giving her instructions to stay on the deck until you came back for her. Then promising ice cream and a full beach day afterwards. “Nah, she always wanted to name her daughter Emery.. She picked it out her freshman year.. Outta some book or something..” 

Emery laughed and watched with Penny as the whole group figured out how to play Dogfight Football. They laughed at how Rooster was developing a burn, how you had somehow talked Hondo into giving you his extra Navy football jersey to help keep the sun off you. You could hear her precious little giggles every time you or Nix or Halo tackled one of the guys. Everyone was laughing and having a good time. You even laughed when Hangman pretended to bite the ball and act like it was a grenade. You even helped your dad up after he fell, earning a genuine smile from him for the first time in over 20 years.

You all booed as Maverick said he needed a minute but kept playing. You didn't even notice when a khaki covered figure stormed up and stood next to the chair Mav was slouched in. None of you noticed to busy cheering on Bob and telling him to run as Cyclone stepped next to Maverick. “What is this?” Beau asked, taking in your long legs completely unhindered by shorts of any kind. The way your ass looked in your bathing suit and the shirt you had covering your body. He wanted to know more than anything who it belonged to.. But as everyone dog pilled and tackled Hondo he got a quick answer. “Dog fight football. It's an offense and defense at the same time.” 

“Whose winning?” Beau asked as he watched you run and jump on Coyotes back trying to tackle him. He almost chuckled as Javy just kept running with you holding onto him. It warmed his heart to see you having fun. To see you with aviators your age, doing something normal. “I think they stopped keeping track a while ago.” The two went back and forth for a moment before Cyclone sighed and went to walk away. Just as he turned though, a little voice screamed and changed how the rest of the day would go. 

“DADDY!” 

~

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~

@luckyladycreator2 @winterrebel04 @millieb-3199 @xoxabs88xox @archaeologydigit @topgunruinedme @lillyrosenight @blessednotluckyme @scorpiomindfuck​  @bregarc @person-wholikes-reads @hangmandruigandmav @beaner-life-23 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

[whumpflash]

(This is one of the first Actual Whump scenes I wrote. Literally just this. I added context and plot way after. It's not the whumpiest thing in the world, but it's a required pre-chorus to this scene)

cw: violence, some lady whump but it's not the focus

I wish he'd shut up for once.

But Nick has never known when to quit. Not when he's caught in a lie, not when he's in too deep with a damn crime lord, and certainly not when he's managed to piss off a man who's got at least fifty pounds on him.

He and Aaron were supposed to be partners. Neither of them liked it, but their boss--our boss--had the final say, and no one had the balls to question Armitage.

But even when they hated each other's guts, partners weren't supposed to throw each other under the bus, whether it was for the greater good or not.

Even though I've known Aaron was an asshole from the start, and even though I can't fault Nick for what he did, I at least understand Aaron's anger. Nick betrayed him, plain and simple. An apology isn't going to cut it, and we all know it.

Nick doesn't try to fight. He probably knows that would make things worse, but somehow he doesn't seem to realize that spitting out insults has the same effect. I'm slow to react, at first not comprehending the full weight of the situation, or I might've been able to stop him. To at least put a band aid on the whole thing long enough for both of us to run far far away from the empty parking lot and the pissed off dude standing in it.

But unfortunately, I'm not that lucky.

So I can only shout for Aaron to stop as he seized Nick by the shoulders and throws him backwards.

Nick collides with the concrete base of a lamppost, sinking to the ground. A splotch of blood grows at the corner of his mouth, turned black by the streetlight. Aaron stalks towards him and I run to intercept. I can see his eyes. He's mad, but not so far gone that he can't be talked out of it. Yet.

So I take a deep breath and step in front of him, blocking the path to Nick. “That's enough. He's learned his lesson."

“You know that's a fucking lie,” he snaps. He tries to sidestep me, but I mirror him.

“Aaron. Please. Just leave him alone.”

“Move."

I stand my ground. “It's late. We should all be getting home.”

“Clara.”

It's Nick now. I turn around. He's still sitting in the same spot, sprawled on the ground with the lamppost to his back. He's not smiling when he talks to me.

“Just go home. We're just... Talking it out.”

I shake my head. “Talking it out?”

“For once he's right,” Aaron says. “This has nothing to do with you. Now get out of my way.”

“No.”

Once again, he sidesteps and I block him.

“Clara, move.”

“This has to stop. What happens if Armitage hears you've been fighting? He won't like that.”

I can see a flash of hesitation cross his face when I mention our boss, but it vanishes as quickly as it came.

"Armitage isn't here." He takes a step forwards, I stay still, trying to appear calm though my heart is pounding.

"I get it," I say, looking up at him, unmoving. "It was a dick move on his part, but it won't happen again, okay?"

"No," Aaron replies. "You don't get it."

I glance at Nick. Aaron takes another step forward, and without thinking, I try to push him away. When I look back at him, I can see the change in his eyes. Like a fire inside him is about to bloom. I only have a second to feel afraid before he shoves me, and suddenly I'm hurtling backwards, skidding to a stop in the middle of a puddle. My elbows burn and I feel the water seeping through my shirt as Aaron turns away from his original target and moves on me. I hastily get to my feet, holding my hands out in surrender.

“Aaron, don't--”

He backhands me across the face, and suddenly I'm back on the ground, a flash of red behind my eyes. I try to blink away the pain and sit up, but I can't tell if I'm looking at the sky or the pavement right now. I feel him standing over me, and tense for the next blow.

“Hey!”

I push myself up somewhat, and see a blurry Nick on his feet, facing Aaron.

“I knew you were scared of me, Aaron, but I didn't think you were such a wuss that you'd rather fight her.”

There's a terrible moment of nothing, and then everything seems to happen at once.

Aaron runs at Nick. I somehow get to my feet and run to stop him but get thrown to the side like a rag doll. I hit the ground hard, cracking my head on the street. Before everything goes black, I see Nick land a blow on Aaron's nose.

Then for a moment, nothing. Then I see Nick dodge a kick, take a hit, stumble back. The rage radiates off of Aaron.

And so it goes, fading in and out as I gasp like a fish on the ground and try to find the willpower to get back up.

He's going to kill him.

Nick goes down. I can't even shout his name. My sight is failing around the corners, as if my vision is a peephole that keeps getting smaller and smaller.

Aaron kicks Nick in the side. And does it again. And again. At some point, Nick stops trying to get up. And I think I'm crying but I can't be sure because my head hurts too much to think about anything else, really, and suddenly everything is just dark.

Then, inexplicably, there's a flash of blue. In my head, behind my eyes, all around me.

You know what to do, a voice whispers.

I really don't, I whisper back.

You know.

And I reach for the light. Not with my hands, but with my mind. And slowly, slowly, I feel the blackness slip away, and the pain along with it. My head clears, my eyes open, my elbows even stop stinging.

I don't take the time to question it. I run silently up to Aaron and throw myself onto his back, wrapping both arms around his neck and squeezing with all my strength. He lets out a choked sound and reels backwards. I don't let go. Normally this wouldn't work. Normally, I might not stand a chance. But miraculously healing yourself after a K'O has its advantages, apparently.

Aaron tries to punch me, tries to pull me off, but I bury my face into his back and hold on all the tighter. He stumbles, falling to his knees. His blows start to weaken, until they stop coming altogether and he crashes onto the pavement. I wait a few more seconds before releasing him, maybe for security, maybe due to nerves. Then I run to Nick's side.

He's barely conscious, trying to get up but not doing a very good job of it. I kneel next to him and help him into a sitting position.

“Clara..?” His gaze is too distant. “Clara, are you okay?”

“Am I okay? You should see yourself.”

He shakes his head, and winces. “I... how did you do that?”

“I took him by surprise.”

“You know what I mean.”

I look down. “I don't know. Don't worry about it. We need to get you to a hospital.”

His eyes drift shut for a second, and he gives a little nod. “Tha's probably a good idea.”

I shake his shoulder. “Hey. Stay awake.”

“Nnh, not right now.” His eyes start to close.

“Nick!”

“Hmm?”

I look up at the sky, trying to think. I doubt I could drag him, and I don't have a comm to call an ambulance. Aaron could wake up at any second...

Nick starts to flop to the side, and I throw an arm around him, pulling him to lean against me. Dammit.

The blue light. I'm gonna need that back.

Hey, you know that thing you did?

No response.

Hey, I'm gonna need that again. I hold Nick tighter. Now. I bite my lip. Please.

Nothing. For what seems like forever, it's nothing but my own heartbeat and Nick's shallow breaths.

Are you sure?

My heart leaps. Yes! Yes, I need it.

Alright. Your choice, I suppose.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and the blue light is there again. I reach for it eagerly, this time focusing all my being on Nick. Save Nick. Make him better.

He seems to jolt in my arms, and I feel my headache begin to return, the pain trickling into me like ink onto paper. The sting comes back to my elbows and once again, my vision is tinged with black. Nick sits up suddenly. We meet eyes for all of a second before I crumple, hitting the ground before he can even call my name.

[mayhemproduces]

Joshua Bishop (c) vs Nick Gage- MPW World Championship

The two men circled one another, the proverbial calm before the storm setting in, before both men go for a lock up, perhaps not what one might expect out of these two, but to forget that either of these men were extremely competent wrestlers along with their hardcore credentials would not just be unfair to either of them, it would probably get your shoulders pinned to the mat quicker than you could react to it in a match. Bishop, the bigger and stronger of the two men, forced Gage back into the corner after much jockeying for position, with Tom telling Bishop to get Gage out of the corner after a couple of seconds. Bishop actually complied, despite the No Disqualification nature of MPW Championship matches, but not without a wide grin and a pat to Gage’s chest, Bishop knowing he got the better of that first exchange. Bishop beckoned Gage to bring it as he backed off to his own side of the ring, before the two began to circle one another once again. The two lock up once again, this time it’s Gage getting the better of it, trapping Bishop with a wrist lock and twisting him back into a hammerlock, trying to wear down Bishop’s arm, trying to prevent some of those powerful throws and slams Bishop relies so heavily on, working over the arm that Josh Bishop actually has a brace on here tonight, the arm that’s been picked apart for weeks now. Gage transitions to a headlock, before once again taking control of the arm, and sending Bishop into the ropes with a whip. On the rebound Gage tries for a hip toss, but the bigger, stronger Josh Bishop blocks it, before nearly trying to decapitate Gage with a clothesline, which Gage ducks under! Gage slips behind Bishop and traps him in a waistlock, which Bishop tries to force him off with a back elbow, which Gage also ducks, and then Gage takes Bishop down with a double leg! It looks like Gage wants to transition it into a Boston Crab or something of the like, but Bishop kicks Gage off of him, sending Gage flying back across the ring! 

Gage gets back up in time to see Bishop charging him, looking for another clothesline, which Gage ducks and hits the ropes. Bishop tries for another on the rebound, but Gage ducks that too, hits the ropes again, and knocks Bishop down with a running forearm! The big man is off his feet, and it looks like Gage’s strategy early on here is to stick and move around the much larger Josh Bishop. Maybe the mistake a lot of Bishops’s MPW opponents made was coming right at him, whereas Gage is trying to stick and move, hit and run like you would a much larger opponent in boxing. Bishop is quickly back to his feet, and tries to go at Gage again, only to be caught by an Atomic Drop, and then whipped into the corner, before Gage charges in and drops Bishop with a back elbow. Bishop drops down into a seated position, and Gage hits the ropes, looking for a boot scrape, but Bishop rolls out under the bottom rope, avoiding the move and taking a walk around the outside, perhaps to clear his head and get refocused. It was safe to say this one wasn’t going Bishop’s way here in the early going, Gage going with a much different strategy than usual, not letting Josh Bishop work inside his wheelhouse. Bishop adjusts his elbow brace as he continues to circle the outside of the ring, his eyes never leaving the former MPW World Champion, as both Gage and referee Tom Dunn are beckoning Bishop to get back into the ring. Bishop climbs up onto the apron, and starts climbing into the ring, when Gage runs up and kicks the middle rope up into Bishop’s crotch! Josh Bishop falls to the mat, clutching his groin in agony, anything goes in an MPW World Championship match so no DQ on that! Gage laughs and points to his head, implying he’s not just tougher than Bishop, he’s smarter too. As Bishop fights to get his nuts out of his stomach, Gage comes over and nails him with a headbutt. Bishop reaches for the ropes and uses them to try and get up, but Gage takes advantage and rakes his nails across Bishop’s back! Gage forces Bishop into the corner and nails him with a stiff chop to the chest, before following it up with a forearm shot to the head. Gage then blasts Bishop with a second chop, trying to leave an imprint of his hand on Bishop’s chest permanently! Bishop stumbles out of the corner, only to be met with a right hand to the jaw from Gage, followed by another stiff chop. Josh Bishop has been completely taken out of his element here tonight by his challenger. It’s clear the arm injury seems to be affecting him as wellGage catches him with another chop, and Bishop takes another wild swing with the clothesline, just to miss once again, and be caught with another chop. Bishop takes another wild swing, but once again misses, and now Gage starts peppering him with a series of stiff right hands, trying to daze and confuse the challenger further. Bishop finally seems to snap out of it, and ROCKS Gage with a right hand, before trying to lift Gage up, maybe looking for an early Bishop Bomb, but Gage spins out, grabs Bishop, and drives him down with a DDT! Bishop’s arm gave out trying to lift Gage, and Gage capitalizes! Bishop rolls to the corner, and once again Gage tries to line up the boot scrape, but once again Bishop rolls out underneath the bottom rope, escaping. Bishop is clearly frustrated, banging his hands on the apron to indicate so, this match so far having not gone the way he expected it to at all. As Bishop starts to walk around the outside of the ring again, this time, the champ isn’t gonna wait for him, hitting the ropes and taking out Bishop on the outside with a baseball slide, knocking Bishop right into the steel guardrail! Bishop clutches his back, as Gage grabs him again, this time whipping him into the corner of the guardrails, once again sending Bishop’s back colliding with the steel! Gage grabs Bishop again and this time throws him over the guardrail, this one’s gonna be spilling out into the crowd! Steve Guy gets on the mic to remind our fans: “If the action looks like it’s coming your way, it is, grab your shit and move!” 

Bishop goes stumbling through the crowd, but Gage stays on him, nailing him with several forearms along the way, sitting him down in one of the fan’s chairs and continuously laying into him with forearm shot after forearm shot. 

Gage tells a couple fans behind him to move, and then, creating a lane for himself, Gage backs up before taking a running start, charging at Bishop, and knocking him out of the chair with a huge running forearm! Bishop is sent to the floor! Gage stands up on the chair he just knocked Bishop off of to get the crowd fired up, before jumping back down, picking up the chair, and throwing it down on top of Bishop! 

Gage grabs Bishop again, and sits him down in another one of the fans chairs, before climbing back over the barricade, and asking one of the fans for their chair. He takes it and sets it up, before beginning to walk backwards, clapping and urging the crowd to their feet, as Nick Gage seems to have something in mind here. Gage gets a running start before jumping up onto the chair and launching himself over the barricade, taking out Josh Bishop in the process! The champion pulling out things we’ve never seen him do before to take out the Intense Icon tonight! 

Gage gets up and slaps a few hands, before going right back after Joshua Bishop. Bishop catches Gage with a stiff right hand, which Gage answers with a forearm, and now these two are trading blows out in the middle of our fans here in San Jose. Gage and Bishop continue trading blows until Gage grabs Bishop and yells for another fan to hold their chair up, before charging with Bishop in hand and ramming Bishop’s head into the steel chair! Bishop practically goes flying, and as the camera refocuses on him, blood is beginning to run down Bishop’s forehead, as the champion has been busted open!

Gage goes back and grabs Bishop again, and once again the two men begin trading right hands through the crowd, neither man wanting to give an inch to the other in this clash of MPW titans. Bishop catches Gage with a shot that sends him to the floor, and into the chairs of the back row of fans here on the floor. Bishop picks Gage back up, before catching him with a couple chops to the chest, Gage dropping to his knees in pain after the second one. Bishop grabs one of the fans chairs and folds it up, before cracking Nick Gage over the back with it! The sound of steel on flesh echoes throughout the building! Bishop throws the chair down on top of Gage, before picking him back up, and as he drags Gage along with him, catching him with short punches to the head in order to keep Gage dazed. Bishop drags Gage over to the area where merch is set up, and slams Gage face first into one of the merch tables! A couple of MPW talents had been out here, selling merch and watching the main event at the same time,  all of whom quickly scrambling to get their remaining merch back into their bags before the main event came through and destroyed it! It was only moments later that Bishop slammed Gage down onto the tables again, before picking him back up, and throwing him into all the merch tables! Even Mikey Montgomery was taken out in the process, Nick Gage landing on him, as our main event tonight had spiraled completely out of control! 

Bishop comes over and stomps Gage a few times, before dragging Gage back up to his feet. Bishop starts dragging Gage back towards the ring, but as Bishop tries to whip Gage back over the guardrail, Gage turns it around and whips Bishop over the guardrail instead! Bishop manages to clear it, though, and lands safe and sound for the most part, as Gage follows him back over. Gage rolls into the ring, but doesn’t notice that Wes Barkley has now made his way out here, and has slid Joshua Bishop a Kendo Stick, and as Gage goes after Bishop, Bishop surprises Gage, cracking him over the head with the kendo stick! The sound of the Kendo Stick bouncing off of Gage’s skull sounded like a gun going off! Bishop gets up and twirls the kendo stick around, hitting it off the ropes a few times, as he circles Gage like a shark circles a wounded seal. The shot caught Gage good, as he’s now bleeding profusely from the head, and Bishop discards the Kendo Stick in favor of his own fists, as Josh Bishop mounts Nick Gage, and hammers away with punches directed right at the bloody wound on Gage’s forehead! Bishop then resorts to BITING Nick Gage in the bloody wound, and comes up with Gage’s blood all over his mouth! The champion is completely unhinged!

Bishop is practically jumping up and down as he sees Wes Barkley grabbing a door and sliding it into the ring for Josh, who is quick to request a couple of chairs from Wes as well. As Wes tosses the chairs into the ring, Josh goes back over and makes sure to keep Nick Gage down with a couple of stomps, before turning and grabbing the chairs Wes had brought into the ring. Our World Champion is doing his damnedest to get back to his feet, as Wes Barkley is throwing another door into the ring. Joshua Bishop grabs said door and props it up in the corner, before going back over to Gage, and picking him up. The champ suddenly finds life, as he peppers Bishop with a couple of forearms, before shouting out a battle cry and hitting the ropes, only to be caught and planted with a massive Black Hole Slam on the rebound! Bishop drives Gage into the mat, and goes for what’s astonishingly the first cover of this matchup, trying to retain the World Title!

1….2… Kickout!

Nick Gage kicks out, keeping his title for the time being. Bishop gets up and grabs Gage again, before wrapping his hand around Gage’s throat, and lifting him up, throwing him through the door in the corner with a Choketoss Suplex! The strength of Joshua Bishop was astonishing! Gage might be out completely! Bishop drags the champ out of the corner, and once again hooks his leg for the cover. 

1….2… Kickout!

Nick Gage stays alive again! Bishop sits up and runs a hand through his hair, before getting back to his feet and picking up Gage, before just shitcanning Gage to the outside of the ring, following him out there a moment later. As Gage gets back to his feet he’s grabbed by Bishop again, who nails him with a couple of stiff right hands, before trapping Gage against the barricade and once again resuming the biting! We knew Bishop wasn’t exactly right in the head, but he was practically making a meal out of Gage’s bloody forehead out here tonight! Did he not eat before this match or something?! The blood gushing from Gage’s forehead was getting worse at this point, as Bishop lets Gage go, and just lets the champion drop to the floor. Bishop goes so far as to take the blood of Nick Gage, leaking from his mouth, and wipe it all across his face and down his chest, Bishop painting himself in the blood of his opponent here tonight. Bishop drags Gage back up to his feet again, and once again proceeds to start biting The King’s forehead, Bishop like a vampire out here tonight or something. Bishop looks like he’s savoring the taste of Gage’s blood. He picks the champ back up before driving Gage’s back into the steel guardrail, once again causing Gage to collapse down to his knees. It would be hard to recall a time we ever saw Nick Gage in as dire straits as these, the champion absolutely just picking him apart here tonight. One had to wonder just how much Nick Gage had left tonight. 

Bishop lifts Gage back up, and lifts him and carries him, using Gage like a battering ram and driving him right into the steel ringpost! Gage collapses to the floor, clutching his back, as Bishop tosses him back into the ring, perhaps thinking it was about time to end this one. Back in the ring, Wes Barkley had been setting up a door between two chairs to create a sort of makeshift table, and as Bishop rolled back into the ring himself, he grabbed Gage and hoisted him up, looking to put Nick Gage through the table with a Bishop Bomb! But before Bishop could put Gage through the door, Gage suddenly found life, Bishop’s arm gives out again, and Gage slid off Bishop’s shoulders, and as Bishop turned around, Gage lifts him up and drives him through the door with a Spinebuster! Bishop explodes through the door, and Gage makes the cover!

1…..2…. Kickout!

Josh Bishop out at two! Gage rolled to the ropes to try and pick himself up, but Wes Barkley took the opportunity to get a shot of his own in, nailing Gage with a right to the head, stunning him as Bishop got back to his feet, grabbing a door and propping it up in the corner of the ring. Bishop grabs Gage and picks him back up. Bishop blasts Gage with another chop, before lifting him up onto his shoulders, charging, and driving Gage right through the door with a massive Death Valley Driver! Bishop jumps up to his feet, pounding his chest, before he drags Gage out of the corner, and goes for the cover!

1….2… Kickout!

Gage kicks out once again! But how much did the World Champ have left in the tank, between all the abuse he’d taken in this match at the hands of Josh Bishop had to be taking a toll. But Gage was already sitting back up, leaning against the ropes. Gage was telling Bishop to bring it on, which just made the Rip City Wildman even more visibly upset. Bishop practically tackles Gage and begins laying into him with a series of right hands, before getting back up, grabbing half of the door he’d just put Gage through, waiting for Gage to sit up, and then beating him over the head with the broken wood, until it practically disintegrated in Bishop’s hands!

Gage SOMEHOW got right back to his feet, and tried to use the ropes to help him stand, but one more big swing of the half-door, Bishop once again smashing it over his head, sent Gage right back down to the mat! 

Bishop got up and admired his handiwork, before telling Wes to grab a table. Wes grabs one from under the ring, and slides it into the ring, as Josh and Wes begin setting it up in the middle of the ring. Wes waves his hands like this one’s over, as Bishop climbs up to the second rope, beckoning Wes to bring Nick to him. Wes lifts Gage up as Bishop collects him, and takes a step up to the top rope, before jumping down, putting Gage through the table with a Bishop Bomb off the top rope! Gage explodes through the table, it’s over! Bishop covers!

1….2….3!

“Here is your winner, and STILL MPW World Champio-..”

Before Steve Guy can even finish announcing Bishop as the winner, Mox gets up from commentary, sliding into the ring, grabbing a chair , and immediately drilling Wes Barkley with the chair! Josh Bishop whips around to see Mox in the ring, and goes to grab at him, when Mox connects with the chair to Bishop’s bad arm! Bishop drops to his knees, clutching his bad arm! Mox grabs Bishop, lifts him up, and plants him with a Death Rider! The champ spiked right on his head! 

Mox gets back up and rips the mic away from Steve Guy, and grabbing the MPW World title, squatting over Josh Bishop, holding up the belt. 

“Josh I’m gonna shoot straight with you… With that bad wing, you don’t got a fuckin’ shot come sunday. Seven days, i’m gonna make good on my promise to make you regret ever saying no to the BCC. This belt, and everything you’ve built here, it all goes away.” 

Mox flips the mic and drops the title down on Bishop’s chest, before leaving the ring. 

Our MPW World Champion is in for the fight of his life Sunday.

[georgescatcafe]

the rising chariot — 1

rating: t  warning/s: none pairing/s: platonic dream team, karl jacobs/sapnap genres/tags: percy jackson and the olympian au, friendship, angst summary: Nick Pappas isn’t sure it’s normal for teenagers to be sent across the United States on a quest that could potentially kill them, but Nick has started to realize that everything he thought was normal is entirely false. George Davies doesn’t particularly want to spend three consecutive days with this new camper and that son of Hermes who snagged his win in Capture the Flag two weeks ago, but he knows he has to suck it up and go with them, no matter how irritating they may be. Clay Bryce just wants to prove himself and show that he’s more than that troublesome kid from Cabin Eleven, but even as the leader of this quest, he’s not sure how to when Nick has fire powers and George is practically capable of mind-control.

Yet what they feel and want will mean nothing if they don’t complete their quest. When a petty feud between gods has Apollo threatening to take the Sun from the sky, the three must head out to stop him, but not just that—they’re in a race against an ancient enemy of the god, one who definitely will try and kill him if it gets to Apollo first.

+ao3 +masterpost

Despite what the papers said, Nick didn’t mean to burn down his school. The only reason he wasn’t going to prison was because no one died and the police couldn’t find any solid evidence that it was his fault. That is, other than the fact that when the building stopped burning, there was just him standing in its charred remains, not a single hair on his head harmed. But seriously, he didn’t mean to burn down his school. Yeah, he hated sitting through English as much as the next kid, but he didn’t hate it enough to commit arson.

Not to mention he was turning sixteen in three days. Why would he actively try and get into trouble three days before his birthday?

But that wasn’t really a new problem. The burning, that is. Maybe on a grander scale this time—he’d never burnt down a whole building before—but he’d always had an unlucky relationship with fire. Or, his mom would call it lucky, if you overlooked the whole I burn everything I touch thing. She used to just laugh at the soot sprinkled across the living room carpet and run her fingers through his hair, telling him to only play with fire if he knows he won’t get burned. (And he’s never gotten burned.)

The last time he saw her, she was staring at him through the back window of a police car.

After that, it was like she was never there. Nick still thought about her, though, when his stepdad, a rigid, heavyset man, kissed his new wife on the cheek and patted Nick on the head like he’s still five and not fifteen-and-eleven-months, and he thought about her when it was his turn to stare at his family through the back window of a police car.

It was just a single policeman, polite and unassuming as he explained the full situation to Nick’s parents, and his parents just wanted to get this out of the way, so when the cop told Nick to get in the car, they didn’t protest, and Nick took his seat, the window cool under his palms as he watched his stepdad and stepmom get smaller and smaller.

“I really didn’t mean to do it,” Nick finally said, turning back to the officer.

“I know, son,” the cop in the front seat replied.

“Then why are you taking me?” he asked.

The cop didn’t reply.

Nick turned back to the window, watching building after building pass by. He tried to read some of the signs, but the letters got all jumbled up, and eventually, he just sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on the window, pretending that the vibrations of it didn’t bother him. By the time he bothered sitting up again, the bustling city had disappeared and field after field stretched endlessly around them. Nick curled a hand around the seatbelt pressing into his chest.

“Where are we going?”

Again, the cop didn’t reply.

Nick tugged at the seatbelt. “Can I not ask questions anymore?” He tried to open the door, but it was pointless. The thing was locked, and every time he tried to undo the lock, it would pop right back into place. NIck turned back to the cop. “Look, man, I really didn’t mean to do it, and if you believe me, that’s great, so I don’t know why you still want me here. If you just let me go home—”

“That’s enough, Nick Pappas,” the cop finally snapped, and Nick’s eyes widened at the sound. His voice was raspy, and he pronounced his ‘s’s weird. “Be a good kid and sit quietly.”

“I just want to know where you’re taking me!” Nick banged his fist on the window, only wincing for the shortest second when it sent a tingle back up his arm.

“I said enough!” And then the car was veering off the road, Nick was flung into the window, seatbelt digging painfully into his chest and waist, ears ringing from hitting his head on the glass, and the cop was twisting out of his seat, stretching out over him, hat falling aside to reveal long hair, lips parting to reveal sharp, glistening fangs.

Nick scrambled back as far as he could, seatbelt constricting his movements. “I don’t want trouble! What is wrong with you?” He kicked at the cop, letting out a strangled gasp when his foot met soft flesh and not hard muscle. “You’re not even a guy!”

“And you are no uselesssss mortal either!” the cop hissed, grinning even as its fangs pop, terrifying and fascinating all at—the cop sprung forward, and nope, just terrifying, not even close to fascinating.

Nick was never particularly flexible, but one time he heard about a bus flipping over with a kid inside it and the kid’s mom pushed the bus back over all on her own in some crazy fit of adrenaline. He had the hazy thought that something similar might be happening then as his foot makes contact with the cop’s face and the fangs dig into the sole of his shoe instead of his face. In the seconds he had to spare, Nick quickly undid his seatbelt, flailing as the cop grabbed at his shoe and pulled, throwing off his balance. The satisfaction of smacking it in the head was small in comparison to the fear that welled when he saw rage flicker in its eyes.

“I don’t even know what you are!” he choked out when the cop-not-cop made another pass at him. “Let me go!” With each word he aimed another kick at its head, but most of his kicks missed, and dread continued to fill him up as all his pathetic fighting did was enrage the thing.

“You ssssstupid boy!” the maybe-cop-probably-not seethed. “I am Sssssandra the Sssssupreme! One of the mossst powerful dracaena in the mortal world right now!”

The information meant nothing to Nick. He finally landed a kick on the center of her chest, sending her back into the front seat as he worked furiously at getting the door open. “Okay! And I’m Nick Pappas and you really don’t want to hurt me!”

“Oh, but I do!” Sandra hissed because that’s what she was doing, no way else to describe it. “Your death would be sssssplendid for me!”

“Not for me, though!” Nick argued, screeching when rough hands grabbed at his waist and fangs were once again in his line of sight. “Let me out!”

He banged against the door some more before turning back to the—what’d she say?— dracaena, heart pounding as nails dug into his waist and fangs filled his vision. He swallowed, wondering if it would be better or not to look death in the face before deciding it’d be worse, a lot worse, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Nick was mentally preparing himself for the end, when there was a muffled noise from outside the car, and then the shattering of glass. His eyes flew open even as shards of glass continued to rain down onto him and the snake lady from the window opposite them. And there, between all those sharp edges, stood a short ginger kid that, had Nick been in a better state of mind, he would remember from his classes. As it was, however, all he saw was his savior, holding a hammer tightly in his hands, cinnamon hair glowing in the fading sunlight, and eyes absolutely filled with terror.

“Are you okay?” the kid shouted as the dracaena screamed above Nick, who did his best to push her off of him and open the door from the outside.

“We have to go!” Nick replied, grabbing the boy by the wrist and running, uncaring of where they went, so long as it was away. “That thing back there is not a cop!”

“You’re right!” the kid agreed, looking quickly over his shoulder before letting out a sharp noise and running faster.

With a bit more space to breathe and think, Nick could finally recall who he was: Floris, who, although they weren’t very close, he sat with more often than not, the dude letting Nick copy his notes and never pressuring him about paying attention in class—except for certain times, like in World History, when they were talking about Greece, and Nick had said his family was from there, and Floris turned to him with wide eyes and asked, “You know?” As if everyone didn’t have at least some clue as to where their family was from. After that, Floris would nudge him every time he started to nod off, pointing to the screen and reminding him to listen to the teacher. It was weird, but he just brushed it off as some ginger thing. Gingers are weird , man.

That seemed truer than ever now, watching Floris run with a hammer and his lopsided gait. “Do you know what that thing was?” Nick asked, shouting over the wind that had picked up in the fields.

“Do you?” Floris replied.

Nick checked over his shoulder. He could still see the car, left behind in a ditch, glass twinkling like stars across the asphalt, and—“You’re about to find out!” He took the hammer from Floris and threw it at the dracaena , cursing when all she did was duck out of the way. It doesn’t even hit one of her tails and oh, wow, she has two tails. The day just kept getting weirder.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered to himself, even as Floris yelled at their lack of a weapon.

“You have to do something!” Floris argued, turning to face him, gripping him by the shoulders and shaking him. “Or she’ll kill us both!”

“I know,” Nick swallowed, his own hands coming up to cover Floris’s, “I know.” He turned back to the dracaena, who continued to approach undeterred. “I can—I have to do this.” He stumbled as she hissed at him, fangs on full display once again. “Um,” he held out his hands in a stop motion, “look—we wouldn’t be better off dead! You want us to live! You really want us to—”

“Nick!” Floris snapped. “What are you doing?”

“Something!” Nick replied. “I’m doing something!”

“That’s not something!” Floris shook. “Doing something is burning down the school because you heard a kid talking bad about your mom—do that again!”

“I didn’t mean to burn down the school!” Nick looked at Floris in desperation, only for the dracaena to reach them, hissing and cursing their names. “I just—I wanted—I didn’t—”

“You are the ssssame as her,” the dracaena’s words became clear now that she was closer, “ssstupid, pathetic, unable to ssssave the one who needssss you most. Prepare to die, Nick Pappssss, son of—”

“Shut up!” Nick shoved at the dracaena, but that wasn’t what got her to stop. His hands were engulfed in flames, pressing into the snake lady’s police uniform, setting the cloth ablaze, sending smoke into the air and forcing a scream out of her throat. He pressed harder into her chest. “Shut up about my mom! You don’t know her! She didn’t do anything wrong! Shut up!”

He held his hands to her chest as she burned, his own chest heaving, lungs working in overtime as his brain attempted to understand everything it just witnessed. Everything it just experienced.

The dracaena’s screaming finally stopped, and then, there was just quiet.

Nick watched as her ash blew away into the wind, sunlight catching it and spinning it into gold. Flames flickered between his fingers before he curled his hands into fists. He turned to Floris. “I don’t know what just happened.”

“You,” Floris said timidly, “just slayed a monster.”

Nick grimaced.

Together, they walked in a tense silence, the sun setting to their right, moon rising to their left, up until Floris cleared his throat.

“What she said, about your mother—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’d be good to, though,” Floris tried. “It’s not good to keep all those things to yourself like that. They eat at you.”

“I think I know what’s eating me and what’s not, thanks.” Nick kicked a pebble, sending it clattering down the road ahead of them. “Talking—feelings talking—isn’t really my thing.”

“Still,” Floris said, “it’s worth a shot.”

Nick frowned, staring out at the open road ahead of them, town still a bit away. “What does it even matter to you?” He looked to the other. “You barely know me. We just sit next to each other in class. Who cares about my mom?”

“You do.” Floris stopped to pick a dandelion from the weeds growing along the road. He held it out to Nick. “And I thought we were friends.”

“We’re not in elementary school,” Nick replied, but he accepted the dandelion anyway. He puckered his lips, blowing out a stream of air and sending the seeds flying. 

“Did you wish for anything?” Floris asked, watching the seeds scatter throughout the sky.

Nick dropped the leftover stem to the ground. “No. And if I had, I wouldn’t tell.” He crushed the stem underfoot. 

They kept walking.

The sun set as they went, making the asphalt beneath their shoes glitter and shine. Not a single car passed, and Nick couldn’t stop the unease that crept up on him as they left the cop car behind them.

“Hey,” Floris said. “It’s fine.”

Nick looked over at him, disbelieving. Though no longer racing, his heart still pounded in his chest, and his limbs felt like jello, loose and clumsy. It was hard to imagine going home and sleeping, like he hadn’t just almost been killed.

“I mean it,” Floris continued. “You won. It won’t be coming back any time soon. You survived.”

Nick nodded. He survived. He’s not dead—he’s breathing in fresh air, listening to the night breeze, watching the streetlights reflect on the road. “It’s just,” he made a vague motion with his hand, “scary.”

With the action, he found himself watching his fingers as they curled and splayed. His hand, which had been encased by fire not long ago, skin unblemished and tan. As if there had never been any fire there in the first place. He let it fall back to his side.

He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He didn’t want to think about it at all.

They continued their walk in silence.

By the time they stopped in front of Nick’s doorstep, the moon was halfway through the sky, and Floris yawned every three seconds next to him. Nick straightened, clearing his throat. “Thanks,” he said. “For earlier. I could’ve died without you.”

Floris studied him. Nick stared back. Eventually, Floris reached a conclusion, whatever it may be, and gave a shrug. “You would’ve done what you had to do eventually.” Nick opened his mouth, but he continued: “I’m happy to help, though. That’s what I’m here for. Seriously.”

Nick frowned as the ginger bid him a cheery goodnight before turning on his heel and leaving, Nick standing alone in the doorway.

When Floris was gone from view, Nick faced the door, wiggling the doorknob to find it locked. He sighed, pulling out his house key. His brain was still struggling to process… everything, and his body was trembling minutely from shock and leftover adrenaline. He felt completely drained, exhausted, ready to collapse at the first sight of a cushion. It was brute strength he used in making it to his room and into bed, where he fell onto his Paris-themed comforter (don’t ask) and fell into what seemed to be the hardest sleep of his life. Right before he slipped into dreams, he wondered if perhaps he had died in the cop car that day, and this was all just an extra long hallucination.

[procrastinatorimagines]

Helping Hand

Fandom: The Originals / The Vampire Diaries

Characters: Reader, Elijah, 

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 4,171

Request:  Hi! Can I get an imagine where the reader is a teenager (about 16) who has powers and she learns that Elijah Mikaelson has a necklace that belonged to her ancestor that will allow her to keep her powers under control and asking him for help?

+

hey ,can u write something with elijah???? love your blog

Summary: The reader moves to New Orleans with her family after her grandmother dies, leaving them with a large property and inheritance. But the reader also starts to develop powers, powers she cannot control, not without the help of Elijah Mikaelson.

Note: I’ve had this first request buried in my drafts for a very long time, I don’t even still have the actual request anymore so idk who sent it but here it is

Your magic was... volatile, to say the least. They’d started to show themselves last year, around the time your family had moved to New Orleans, but despite your best efforts, you were still unable to keep them under much control. It felt like there was a well of power deep inside of you, but no matter how far you reached, you’d yet to find the end. 

You longed to reach the end of your power, to finally know your limits. By understanding what you were capable of, maybe you could begin to learn to control barely contained power within. It was a miracle your family hadn’t found out yet, especially given the whole you’d accidentally made in the back wall of the house, but as much as you wanted to tell them, you didn’t know how they would react. 

The timing of your powers couldn’t have been a coincidence, at first you’d thought it was related to your age maybe, did 15 mean something magical? You obviously had no idea, but the longer you were in New Orleans, you started to realise that that wasn’t the case. Your estranged grandmother had died last year, you’d only met her once as a baby and your mother never talked about her, but she’d left behind a massive estate and inheritance in New Orleans, and following the divorce from your father, your mother had decided maybe it was a good chance for a fresh start. So she’d packed you and your younger twin brothers up, ripping you away from your lives, friends, everything you’d ever known, and taken you to the Crescent City.

It had been an adjustment, especially with the added problems of your powers. Needless-to-say, discovering you had magic was a shock, a big one. At first you thought you were dreaming, or seeing things, but eventually you’d accepted that this was real... and you should really plant a few trees to make up for the damage you’d accidentally done to the ones on the edge of your property line.

That’s where you were now, headphones on, beads of sweat on your brow as you tried to concentrate your magic at a single tree stump about ten metres away from you. Taking slow breaths you listened to the beat of the music pumping in your ears, letting all else slip away as you felt that familiar opening inside of you, leading to the well of magic you could feel stirring in anticipation. It always gave you a bit of a rush when you started, but you had to be careful you didn’t dive in too quickly. 

Too much too fast was your problem, and you’d spent many, many... many, frustrating days trying to master it. You were sure there was a better way, maybe an instruction manual? But who could you ask, New Orleans may have been full of stores and stalls promising knowledge of the occult and the supernatural, but nothing had seemed to do you any good. Parlour tricks mostly, so you were alone.

Feeling that familiar build up of power, you yet again tried to steady it, tried to send a concentrated blast only. You felt your hands tingle, then warm, focusing intently as you felt sweat drip down the side of your face. Almost there...

A bird landed on the tree stump, catching you off guard as it cawed, stretching its wings but refusing to move. At the last second you threw your hands to the side, a blast of power flying into a nearby tree as you tried to reign it back in. 

“Damn it!” You swore, clenching your hands into fists and pulling them to your sides as you stared wide eyes at the giant smouldering hole in the tall tree, the creaking and groaning sound it was making as it began to splinter at the break.

You took a slight step back, casting a dirty look at the black bird still perched on the stump as it watched you, regarding you with a more curious look than you were comfortable with. A loud snapping sound caused you to look back to the tree, now unable to support the weight on top as it began to topple.

“Crap...” you mumbled, pulling your headphones down to your neck as you watched it start to fall slowly. Not again, you thought as it fell, crashing into another tree before falling back and slamming into the ground. 

You stared at it in stunned silence for a minute, glad you were too far out for anyone to have heard. The bird let out a small noise, still watching you, seemingly unaffected by the sound of the toppling tree. “What are you looking at?” You demanded, the bird cocking its head like it was listening, “this is your fault,” you told it, pointing to the mess behind it. 

The black bird actually turned its head, looking to the tree before turning back to you, cawing and flying off over your head. You ducked as it flew past you, wind blowing your hair. Well... that was weird, but honestly, talking to a bird was probably the least strange thing that had happened to you recently.

So with a shrug you turned on your heels, grabbing your school bag and heading back down the overgrown path you always followed back to your house, checking your watch to make sure you wouldn’t miss the bus. Your 16th birthday had been a few days ago, and the balloons your mother had insisted on putting up on the railings of your front porch were still flying as you appeared out of the clearing in the woods.

Your brother’s were waiting by the road as you picked up your pace, noticing the school bus turning down the end of your road and heading to where the boys were stood. “Cutting it close,” one of your brothers, JJ, commented as you rolled your eyes, ignoring him and Nick as you rifled in your bag for your pass, finding it just as the bus pulled up and the doors opened. 

You sat away from your brothers once you got on, headphones back on as you thought about how you were ever going to get a hang of your powers. 

The rest of your school day when like it usually did, you went to class, did your work, ate lunch alone, and researched magic whenever you had some free time. You’d had losts of friends back home, but being the new girl struggling to control dangerous powers didn’t leave you with much opportunity to be anything other than the loner who talked to the librarian more than any of the other kids. 

Your brothers fit in just fine, and the party your mother had been expecting to throw you over the weekend had been embarrassingly empty, so now she was worried about you. Great, another thing you had to worry about. 

Thankfully, your magic hadn’t really ever acted up at school, expect in gym once or twice, but nothing too noticeable. Heightened emotions seemed to make it worse, and the boredom you felt at school seemed to subdue it the most. 

After school you debated getting the bus home with JJ and Nick, but your mom was working until late so you decided to walk into the city instead, trying your luck again at one of the supposedly magic stores or stalls, you never knew, maybe someone might actually be able to help you.

It was a warm day, even into the afternoon as you strolled along the crowded streets. Okay, you actually liked New Orleans, the people, the buildings, the atmosphere, you felt like you could disappear here. If you hadn’t come into uncontrollable powers when you’d moved here... well, things would be very different. 

You ended up walking through the French Quarter, definitely lost but not caring too much, you’d just use your phone to find the best way home when it got a little later. You were so lost in your music and surroundings that it took you a while to realise you were being followed. 

It felt like a cold breeze on the back of your neck, like your magic warning you of danger. But there was so many people arround that you wouldn’t have been able to tell who was following you even if you saw them, so you picked up your pace.

That feeling didn’t leave, cold going down your spine as you weaved your way through the crowds of people milling about the square. You probably would have thought you were paranoid, but you’d learned enough to not doubt your magic right now. 

Spotting a side street you slipped down it, only realising once you were half way down that it was a dead end. You quickly tried to double back, heart pounding as you turned to see a man at the end of the way, blocking your exit.

He was a sharp dressed man, black suit crisp as he leaned against the cool shaded bricks on the wall, hands in his pockets, regarding you with a cool but intrigued gaze. There was something... off about him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on as your magic buzzed in you with warning. 

“Hello there,” he said casually, pushing himself up off the wall and strolling towards you, hands still in his pockets. He didn’t look threatening, but there was something in his eyes that made you want to run, but where?

“H-Hello,” you got out, not doing well to pretend you weren’t scared as the man smirked at you. There was a lot of times over the past year where you wished you didn’t have magic, this however, wasn’t one of them. You’d never used your power on another person before, but the more scared you got, the more you could feel it burning in your core, ready to burst out to defend you if needed. 

“I’m Elijah,” he introduced himself, British accent clear as he slowly spoke the words. Was he expecting you to introduce yourself? Stranger Danger 101, you were not giving this man your name. He seemed to realise that when you didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem offended. “Very well, I apologise for startling you, but you looked like somebody I knew once.”

“We’ve never met,” you replied, you were sure you would have remembered this well dressed individual.

“No...” Elijah mused outloud, “no I suppose we haven’t, a relative maybe?” The only relative you knew in the city was your late grandmother, you supposed your mother had lived here, but not for the better part of 20 years.

“I don’t think so,” you answered, itching to get away. He seemed to register this, but he still seemed curious about you. What was this guys deal? You scrunched your fists at your side, palms warm with power, your fight or flight response sounding alarm bells in your head as your power threatened to spill out. 

He took another step towards you, glancing down at your hands like he knew what was going on inside of you. Was that possible? You knew that you couldn’t be the only one in the world with power like this, but still...

“I have to go now,” you told him quickly, trying to simply quickly walk past him back to the crowded street, determined to get home as you regretted not just getting the bus with your siblings. 

“On second,” he said, just as you passed him, hand reaching out to grab your arm. As you as he touched you, you exploded.

It happened so fast, one second you were trying to twist out of his grasp, the next a blast of energy had sent him down the street. Breathing heavily, your heart pounding in chest, you didn’t look back to see what you had just done, instead all but running out on the street and making your way back home. 

What had you just done?

-

You made it home before your mom, ignoring your brothers questions about where you had been as you ran up the stairs two at a time and into your bedroom, slamming your door shut and locking it. Only when you heard your lock click into place did you let out a shaky breath and try to relax, leaning against the back of the door and sinking to the floor. Your mind was racing as you tried to process what had just happened.

Had you killed him? You didn’t think so, you hoped not, but he had provoked you, scared you, it had been out of your control the second he’d put his hand on your arm. What were you going to do now?

You groaned and wiped your hands over your face, exhausted and drained. You just needed to think. Reluctantly pulling yourself up you went into your bathroom to take a shower. Every bedroom in this house seemed to have it’s own bathroom, what your grandmother did alone in this place was beyond you.

The water was scolding as you slipped in, but you didn’t care, standing there for a long time as it poured down your face and body, eyes glued to your hands as you thought about the power they contained, the power you possessed.

Your eyes drifted to the pale blue wall tiles, you grandmother had had most of the house redecorated before she died, she’d been sick for a while apparently, but your mom had never told you any of that. This was the room she’d decorated for you, the one she’d instructed you to take in the will, and you had to admit, she’d done a damn good job of decorating it to your taste. Eerily good, considering you weren’t exactly doing much talking the one time you’d met her. 

She’d left you a note too, on the bed when you’d entered. Old people rambling about how you had more potential than you realised, you were special and important and she wished she was there with you... You hadn’t thought much about it at first, but a part of you kept going back to those words in your mind, had she meant this? Had she known?

It seemed crazy, but there had been something not right about that man, Elijah, something cold and... not human? If he had known your grandmother, maybe he would have had more answers about what was going on with you?

With a sigh you finally turned off the water, drying yourself off as you thought about your grandmother alone in this big old house. As you did you walked over the creaky floorboard outside the bathroom door and paused, leaning back on your heel and making it squeek again. You shook your head, thinking you must be reading too much into everything that had happened to you. But as you stepped off of it and listened to it creak again you let out a defeated breath, what the hell, why not? You thought, kneeling down and prying at the sides of the board. 

To your slight surprise it budged, were you really looking for hidden compartments in your room? But your grandmother had left it to you, if your suspicions about her were correct, maybe she’d left you more than you realised. She did, you realised as you got the board free, a dusty box beneath it. This was crazy.

Taking it out you set it on your dresser and got dressed, eyes barely leaving to box until you tentatively tried the latch, it didn’t have a lock on it so you carefully lifted up the old lid, revealing a leather bound book within. It looked like an old-timey journal as you slowly pulled it out, your magic buzzing at the touch. What was this?

You went to sit on your bed, book on your lap as you opened the first page, careful not to tear the pages as you did, it felt fragile but it was definitely well worn, the spine was basically coming apart. The language inside looked like it was mostly... Latin? Maybe, you hadn’t exactly studied it in school, but there were annotations in the margins in English, fresher than the original text, the handwriting appearing to match the writing in your grandmother’s letter.

The more you flipped through the pages, skimming passages and trying to understand illustrations, the more you thought this was a spellbook of some kind. You assumed that was a thing anyway, especially with your grandmother’s notes. 

“Y/N!” A knock on your door had you slamming the book shut probably a little too hard and rushing to put it away, your mother calling you from the otherside. 

“Yeah?” You called back, frantically trying to replace the floor board, barely managing to as she entered, uniform on as she look at you, on your knees n the floor. “Dropped by earring,” you lied with ease and she believed you, it’s not like she’d have believed the truth anyway.

“I’ll have dinner ready in 20, okay?” She smiled and you nodded, standing back up, “how was school?”

“Eh same old,” you told her, deliberately not mentioning your strange encounter with Elijah, she’d freak out if she knew, and you didn’t want her involved in any of this.

“Okay, could you set the table when you come down?” She asked and you nodded again, more than eager for her to leave your room. 

She did after that and you breathed a sigh of relief, you couldn’t be doing any of this in the house, you’d go out into the woods again with the book tomorrow, maybe it was time for a new approach to your magical problem. You just hoped the answers you were looking for had been right under your nose, or feet, the entire time.

-

It was a quiet morning as you made your way down the familiar walkway into the woods, switching into autopilot as you stepped over the roots and stones you had been avoiding nearly everyday for the better part of a year.

You’d tried to sleep last night, but your mind was wide awake, thoughts of that book swirling around in your mind until you finally caved and switched on your lamp, reading through the pages until you’d eventually fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning, book in hand. 

It had been eye opening. Vampires, werewolves, witches... well, you were a witch then, but the fact that the others existed too was nearly too much, your brain becoming so overloaded with new information you barely thought was possible. You’d fallen asleep at a chapter on New Orleans, the different factions there and information on the ‘Original Family’ that had once ruled, the name Elijah Mikaelson had caught your eye, was it the same Elijah you’d met yesterday? It would explain a few things, but it didn’t exactly make you feel any better.

You made it to the area you had been the previous morning, the fallen tree a reminder that you really needed to get your powers under control. You sat on the stump you’d been trying to blast yesterday and pulled the book out of your bag, a torn piece of homework bookmarking a page with a spell you’d decided to test out. It seemed simple enough, and this far into the woods you only had to worry about the damage to the trees, which was nothing new when it came to your magic. 

Leaving the book open on the correct page you stood back up, focusing your breathing as you held out your hands, facing the fallen tree as you reached down into that familiar well of power. But instead of firing blindly like you usually did, you now had a spell that you hoped would at least concentrate the energy.

“Motus,” you said when you were ready, feeling your power blast out of your hands, absolutely shattering the tree you had previously felled... along with a handfull of others in the vacinity. 

“No, no, no,” you muttered. It hadn’t worked, you’d just wanted to hit the one tree, now what were you supposed to do? 

You were so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed that you weren’t alone, jumping and whirling around when you heard a twig snap behind you. Suddenly you found yourself face to face with Elijah. 

“Impressive, uncontrolled and reckless, but impressive nonetheless,” he commented, standing there in a suit as crisp as he had worn yesterday, seemingly unaffected by the blast you’d sent into his chest at your previous encounter. 

“How...?” You stammered, looking around to see where he had come from all of a sudden, what your grandmother’s book had said about Elijah the Original ringing in your mind as you faced him.

“I’m a vampire,” he told you, waiting for your reaction, “so you know what I am then?” He asked when you didn’t flinch.

“I did some reading last night,” you said honestly and he glanced down at where you’d left the book open on the tree stump, recognition flashing in his eyes.

“I can see that,” he noted, wandering over to the book. You wanted to stop him as he reached it, but your feet were firmly planted. What did he want now? “My apologies for yesterday by the way, you just looked so much like your grandmother that I let my curiosity get the better of me, I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“How did you know her?” You asked and he smiled, like he was thinking of fond memories.

“She was one of the oldest witches in New Orleans, most went to her for guidance, she had a gift of sight you see, I went to her from time to time as well, her passing was tragic,” he explained, “how long have you known?”

“Well I found the book yesterday so since then really,” you admitted.

He looked at you in confusion, “but you powers...?��

“Yeah I’ve had those since I moved here, but I never really knew what they were, or how to use them,” you elaborated.

“I can see that,” he said with a nod to the destruction behind you. You looked down sheepishly, embarrassed by your lack of control after so long.

“You know, your grandmother had the same problem,” he began, your head shooting back up to face him, finding that very hard to believe after what he’d just told you about her. “It’s true,” he insisted, noting your hesitation to believe him, “the witches in your family are born with an immense amount of power, more than most could handle, which is why she wore this, to channel that energy and take control,” as he finished he held out his hand, an amulet dropping from it. 

“What is that?” You asked him, drawn closer by the power radiating from the small half moon hanging from his index finger. It looked old, but it also felt oddly familiar in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“It belonged to your ancestors, passed down from generation to generation since before my family even reached these shores in the early 18th century, your grandmother gave it to me for safe keeping, so it could be given to you,” he told you and you shelved the comment about the 18th century away for another time, your eyes unable to leave the amulet as Elijah held out his hand, offering it to you. 

“Can I?” You reached out for it slowly and he nodded, letting you take it. It felt cold in your palm, so different from the heat you always felt when you were using your power. Elijah offered to fasten it for you and he did, a sense of calm and clarity washing over you as soon as he fastened the clasp and stepped back. 

“Try it now,” he suggested and it took you a second to realise he meant the spell. You swallowed, here went nothing.

Turning until you found a target you held out your hand, your well of magic seemingly contained by the amulet, a smaller opening available to you now as you whispered, “motus,” and sent a beam of energy into a nearby tree branch.

Usually, the whole tree would have been blown apart at least, but you your surprise and delight, only the branch was sent flying off. You’d done it. 

Smiling you turned back to Elijah, “thank you,” you breathed, hand going to the amulet around your throat.

“Of course, I gave your grandmother my word that I’d help you when the time came, but I’ll admit, family matters kept me from even checking to see if you’d arrived in the city,” he admitted, “for that I’m sorry, but if you’d let me, I’d like to help you now, it’s the least I could do for your grandmother.”

Although you barely knew this strange man, this vampire, he seemed genuine and it’s not like you really had many other options. So you straighten up and nodded. “Where do we begin?”

[blackberry-gingham]

if you haven’t already, could you do something with being childhood bffs with george and it developing into romance?

Aw, this is cute 🥺 of course!

Ik I've done the teddy!george to Beatle George romance, so for this I'm going to do like actual kids to like high school/teddy! George romance :)

Also, this is super long sorry, but idk how to do a cut so oof 💀 anyway, enjoy!

---

You've known him since forever, the boy with the raven hair and funny eyebrows.

You're earliest memories go back to growing up on the streets of Liverpool. Causing trouble on the playground, getting into mischief behind your mother's backs...

He was your best friend. Still is, as a matter of fact. Until the day everything changed.

You're story starts off on a playground, during a mild day in mid August. The sun is shining brightly and the birds are chirping and flitting through the trees happily. If only you could say the same for your mood.

The old swing set creaks methodically as you and George go back and forth.

It's your last summer before your senior year of high school. You two have been going to the same school this whole time at least, but you can't help this nagging feeling that you and George are going to drift apart after school.

He's changed so much since you were kids.

Lately he's made some... other friends. It's not that that's bothering you of course. No, it's more so that they're all teddy boys. And now, so is George. Not to mention they fancy themselves a start up band, which has only been eating up more of George's time away from you.

Besides, you have no idea what to expect with this final year. Honestly, you're scared as it is, and even the thought of losing your best friend is too much to bear.

"Whatcha thinking about square?", George detects the worry undulating off of you, despite the neutral expression on your face. He knows you too well.

You snap out of your thoughts and paint a smile on your face, "Oh, nothing! Are you looking forward to your final year?"

George fixes you with a look. He doesn't believe that nothing's wrong, but knows to not push you if you don't want to talk about it. "Suppose so, although more just to get it over with. Oh, that reminds me! The lads and I have a gig lined up in a few weeks, can you believe it?"

You're heart drops, and you fear you can already feel him slipping away. "That's wonderful George, I can't believe it!"

His face lights up, "Isn't it? We're going to the top I tell you, I'm sure of it!" George digs his boots into the mulch abruptly, and you slow to a stop as well. "Um, I don't suppose you'd come to the gig, will you?"

You fix him with a suspicious look, there's something afoot here... "When and where?"

"The pub downtown, two months from tomorrow, at 3 am", George's voice gets quiter as he goes. The old him would know not to ask something like that in a million years. After all, your parents would never allow it. And if you got caught...

"George... I-"

He cuts you off, suddenly feeling bad it seems, "No no! I-it's alright, I shouldn't have asked. It's not right, you have school and all"

"So do you, ya know", you lean in and laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood. Thankfully the tension seems to melt and George laughs, brushing off the accusation. At last he stands and offers to walk you home. You agree and take a few steps after him...

...Only to trip over an old piece of tarp sticking up from under the mulch.

You let out a yelp, but before you hit the ground, George catches you. He helps you up right and holds onto you for a moment to make sure you're steady, "That was close! You alright square?"

"Fine, thanks to you", you laugh, then kick some mulch over the exposed tarp. "Damn thing..."

George laughs and the two of you walk on, "Say, do you remember when we were kids and you fell off that same swing set?"

"Ugh, how could I forget! I still have the scar on my knee", you pout.

"Really? I didn't know it was that bad"

"It certainly was! Don't you remember, after I fell you picked me up an-"

"...Carried you all the way home?", George finishes the thought for you.

You smile distantly, reminiscing on better days. "Yeah..."

The two of you talk a bit more about your younger days. All sorts of fun and embarrassing stories come to light as you make your way through town. For a moment, you feel like you're with the old George again.

And then, it all screeches to a halt as you arrive on your doorstep.

"Well, here you are then!"

"Yeah... Um, see you tomorrow per chance?"

George's face falls, "Oh... Actually I have practice with the lads... Then I'm helping with chores around the house all this weekend. M-maybe we can hangout again next week?"

The smile you give him doesn't quite reach your eyes, even as you agree that that sounds like a good plan.

It turns out that date does get pushed back a bit more, but you're thankful to have at least one last day together before school starts up again. Things are normal for a while. Well, the new normal, that is. George tries to be in three places at once between you, the lads, and school, and you're worried for him.

You keep waiting to see which of the three he's going to drop to take a load off his schedule... And you're deathly afraid it'll be you.

But somehow he manages to juggle all three, and before you know it, the night of the gig is upon you. George brings the topic up with you momentarily at school, just to give it another try. You’ve been feeling so estranged from him lately that you want nothing more then to say yes...

You just... can’t.

George says he understands, but he can’t mask the disappointment in his eyes. It’s the last look you see from him that day. However, that night, is a different story.

Clack... Clack. Clack clack... Clack.

A strange noise rouses you from sleep and you get up to investigate. It’s coming from the window... You peak outside to find George out in your yard, throwing rocks at the glass. He sees your outline and starts waving his arms franticly. Quickly, you check the time. It’s 2:03 am.

You heft the window open and George immediately starts chattering. “Morning square! I’m on my way to the pub, I thought maybe you could just sneak out with me since you want to go!”

“Are you mad? You’ll wake the whole house!”, you whisper angrily.

George drops his voice a bit too, but refuses to leave. He says a few more suave and charming words, but more then anything, you can’t deny that you do want to go with him... It takes a little convincing, but you make up your mind to go. You disappear to throw on some going out clothes and navigate your way down out the window and over the roof. It’s a little trick you learned from when you were young.

You haven’t done that in ages...

At last, you and George race off to the bus stop and as though sneaking out past midnight wasn’t exciting enough, the way he grabbed your hand to pull you along through the dark sent your heart soaring.

And when you arrive just in the nick of time the gig to start, you almost hate to admit how much fun you’re having. To think, you almost missed this... The boys are amazing up on stage and the crowd loves them. While you must say, they are all good, you didn’t take your eyes off of George the entire time.

One of the teds, Paul you think, steps up to the mic. “Thank you, you’ve all been wonderful! But before we go, there’s one last song we want to play for you... This goes out to all the sweethearts tonight, it’s called Love me do!”

It’s not on the itinerary, but the crowd whoops and applauds regardless. You focus your attention back to George and he winks at you. In that moment, you experience a feeling you’ve never had in your life. Your blood runs cold, yet you feel on fire. Your fingers and toes tingle, yet you still have complete control over your body. You feel weightless, and yet as though you could collapse.

The song is wonderful, but you were hardly able to pay attention, you were so busy mulling over what that wink meant...

When everything is over, George hurries to catch up with you after the show. He seems so alive.

"You were amazing up there Georgie, absolutely wonderful!"

"Really? You liked it?"

"Of course! I didn't know you were so talented! Why have you never played for me before?", You laugh, but George seems to grow shy all of a sudden.

"I didn't think you were interested... But uh, now I know, I suppose!", he laughs, trying to mend the awkwardness before you can interject. "You know what? We should be getting you home, yeah?"

You whip around to look at the clock. It's nearly 4:30. When you turn back to George, he can already see the panic in your eyes. Without another word, you both race out to the bus stop and wait anxiously to catch a ride.

George tries to make a little small talk and reasure you, but you're having a hard time loosening up. All you can think about is what'll happen if you're caught...

And when you get home, your worst fears are realized. Your dad is sitting on the front porch and the lightning your room has since been turned on. George goes to hold your hand, but you nudge him away as you trudge to your doom.

Your dad doesn't say a word. You already know how much trouble you're in. He looks at George with a deadly scowl etched into his face.

"Sir, I'm sorry, it was m-"

The door slams in his face, and all George can hear is the sound of yelling from the other side as he's forced to walk away.

You're not allowed to see George outside of school for a looooong time. Which is almost fine with you. You can't believe you listened to him...

George tries to apologise to you fervently the next time he sees you, but you blow him off. It takes a few days before you speak to him again, and George feels crushed. That night couldn't have ended more terribly. There was so much he wanted to tell you... But, he can't let you go.

Over time you come around to better terms with your lifetime friend. It takes some work, but George is determined to restore your trust in him. And slowly but surely, your grievance becomes forgotten. He hasn't spend this much time with you since you were children. And honestly? He hasn't been this fun since then either...

He takes you out for ice cream on weekends. You go to the park after school together nearly everyday, that you can. And once you're officially allowed to spend time with him, he even invites you over to watch practice with the lads.

And before you know it, winter has passed and spring is nearly gone too. It's the end of the year and there's one last hurrah to come before graduation. Prom season is upon you.

You know who you want to ask you, but you fear it's too much to even hope. But then, one sunny day...

Clack... Clack. Clack clack... Clack.

Curious, you get up from your desk and wander over to the window. You throw it open and look out. There in the lawn, George stands with a large, handwritten sign above his head. He looks up at you with big, puppy eyes, and he's never been more afraid in his whole life.

Prom? The sign reads.

You scamper out of your window, and nearly trip in your excitement to say yes. George drops his sign and catches you before you hit the ground. You jump up, alight with excitement, "Yes, yes!", you can't stop bouncing, even as George holds you steady.

George smiles at you with an affection you've never seen before. He doesn't say a word. Instead, he picks you up and gives you a spin while you yelp in surprise. When he puts you back down, the two of you share a long look and you think, there's no one in the whole world you'd rather give your first kiss to.

As though he can read your mind, George leans in slowly, giving you an option. But you can't contain yourself, you rush forward and throw your arms around his leather covered shoulders. The smell of his musky hair gel and warm leather jacket wash over you as he holds you tight.

It's the kind of embrace you'd grow familiar with. You don't know it now, but you'll find yourself wrapped in it for the rest of your days.

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

A Grade Student

This was requested by @theichabbieclub​ who asked for his:

<Last one, I promise (for a while). Maybe Nick x daughter!reader who is a dancer (like ballet or contemporary)? Nick is furious with reader because their grades have been slipping for a while and he grounds them. Reader works really hard and gets her grades up all the while practicing for nationals (which is like the Superbowl of dance). Reader is super exhausted but gets her grades up to all A's and performs her solo (Nick forgot abt it until it was already over). When reader comes home late after the nationals, which a first place plaque,a perfect score ( a 300) and her report card, Nick is mad that they came home that then realize that they've been working supppper hard and have developed a fever because of the exhaustion ? Idk this is too long I'm so sorry> 

This was a new style for me, so I’am not sure how it will go! Hope this is what to were looking for lovely x

Warnings: Mad Nick

WC: 1353

Enjoy x

“Y/N how do you expect to get into the academy with grades like this” Nick yelled at you as you sat at the kitchen counter with your head in yours hands trying to stop the tears from falling “Do you not want to graduate on time?”

“I do” you snapped back

“Don’t you snap at me Y/N. You’re grounded till these grades pick up. You go to the studio for practise and come straight home me entiendes?”

“Si Papa”

You had always wanted to be police officer as long as you could remember.  Nick had you at a young age with your Mum and unfortunately their relationship didn’t work out, but he was always an amazing Dad, always hands on and present in your life. Maria was an amazing step Mum and Zara was the best little sister. It had always been the plan for you to come into the city and move in with Nick, Maria and Zara during your senior years and then go to the academy and work your way up to forensics. Of course Nick’s marriage fell apart and Maria and Zara moved away, it had somewhat been good timing you moving in when you did to help Nick get through everything else that was going on.

You missed Maria and Zara greatly, messaging Maria most of the day every day and facetimeing with Zara just as often. But you really didn’t have time to dwell too much of what was going on. It was the start of your final years, you did summer school as well as your dance camp in between. Your Mum had put you into Ballet when you were 6. You had stuck with it because you loved it so much and you were actually really good at it. You had been asked to join the national’s team that summer, needing a teen ballerina for the team. Between school grades and nationals team practices you were spread pretty thin, and now it was starting to show.

You had received your half yearly report and as soon as you read it you felt sick, knowing what Nick would say when he read it. As much as you loved him with all your heart, his temper was bad but it was worse after his split with Maria.

After his scolding of your report card, you went into your room and cried a little and then sat at your desk typing up a daily study schedule based off your dance practise and the upcoming nationals. You weren’t going to have a life for a while, not being able to go out, so really now you had all the time in the world.

****

It was coming to the end of summer, you had been back at school for a while and you had just picked up your end of year report card before going to get on the team bus to go to nationals in Brooklyn on the Friday night. The last few months Nick hadn’t been around much with work. You had taken summer classes to lift your grades, which was the best decision you had ever made once you looked at the card seeing you all A’s, which is what you needed to graduate and it was what the academy required for when you needed to apply. It hadn’t been easy, being at school for a full day, heading off to practise after school for 2 group dances and a solo, till late and then to do it all over again the next day. You were tired and worn out. The bags under your eyes more noticeable, but in a couple weeks it would all be over.

Maria and Zara had flown in and you had messaged Nick to remind him what time nationals started. You were over joyed that Maria and Zara had made it, Maria wrapping you in her arms kissing you on top of your head over and over,

“I’ve missed you honey” Maria kissed your forehead.

----

You had performed both group dances and your solo was coming up. You were second last on the list. Maria had sent Nick a message after the first group dance when he still wasn’t there. But after missing the second one and now your solo was only one more dance away, Maria grabbed Zara’s hand to take her to the toilet and called Nick before you came on stage,    

“Maria, what’s up?” Nick said casually over the phone.

“Where are you?” she shot back “You have missed Y/N two group dance’s- her solo is coming up next. Our daughter needs you and you’re not here”

----

It was late by the time you came home. Maria and Zara had taken you out for pizza and ice cream before Maria headed back to her parents, to celebrate your team’s clean sweep with you. All first places and your solo got a perfect score. Finally you felt relief. Dancing was over for the season and you were on track for graduation, till you walked out after the award ceremony to only Zara and Maria, Nick nowhere to be found. Maria and Zara rushed over to you, Maria wrapping her arms around you and Zara’s around your waist. She had seen the look of your face when you didn’t see Nick and she wanted to cheer you up.  

You opened the door to Nick standing at the kitchen counter leaning on his hands frowning. You closed the door behind you and dropped your dancing bag and sighed waiting for him to snap.

“Where have you been?”

“With Mum and Zara” you scoffed back “Celebrating”

“You’re still grounded”

“I was with Mum and my sister. Didn’t know that came under the rules”

“Don’t be smart with me Y/N” Nick raised his voice.

“You know what” you walked over to your bag pulling out your report card, your 1st place plaque and your two 1st place medals. You walked over throwing them all on the bench in front of him, your face going red with anger “Aqui tienes (here you go) Papa- you have no right to be angry at me when you couldn’t even show up for me tonight” you stormed into your room slamming the door shut.

Nick looked down at the plaque that had ‘1st place- perfect score’ then picked up the two medals with ‘1st place’ on them both. He then opened your report card seeing all ‘A’s’ with ‘on track to graduate’ in your teachers hand writing. Nick sighed to himself feeling ashamed about how mad he was at you.

He walked to your door and knocked letting himself in. You were laying on your bed with your arm over your face with the overhead fan on making the room really cold to try and cool your body down from the fever you had from being mad and exhausted,

“Mi hija (my daughter), you’ll get a cold” Nick moved to turn the fan off, then walking to sit on the bed next to you.

You sat up with tear filled eyes and a red face,

“Papa, I have tried so hard to make you proud of me and it’s still not enough. You haven’t been around for mouths seeing how hard I’ve been working- I sent you a message to remind you about tonight and you still didn’t come” you started to sob covering your face with your hands.

Nick’s heart broke seeing you like that. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into him and kissed the top of your head. He could feel how hot you were.

“Y/N- I ‘am sorry about tonight and the summer, work has been crazy. But honey I ‘am so proud of you, more than you will ever. I have tomorrow off, let’s go for lunch so we celebrate? And maybe if you eat all your vegetables I’ll take you to forever 21 for a treat” You pulled away laughing wiping your tears away “Go and shower, I’ll get you some Panadol and you need a good sleep”

“Thanks Papa”

“I Love you mi hija”

Tags: @the-baby-bookworm​

[tocrackerboxpalace]

Le Rêve - Part 8

Summary: A desperate Paul tries to make things right.

Part 8/8. A big thank you to those of you that have followed along, and I hope you enjoy the ending! :)

With the dreary weather came added traffic, and despite the monetary incentive, the cab ride took a little over an hour and a half.

Paul grumbled a less-than-polite “Thank you” as he pushed his way out of the car and back into the rain, which had slowed to a bearable drizzle now. He waited a moment for the cab to drive off, feeling oddly insecure about his destination. The car disappeared around the bend, and before he could get around to feeling silly about the gesture, Paul leaned over and carefully plucked a handful of flowers from the neighbors’ rosebush. Cautious not to nick himself on the thorns, he arranged them in a disheveled bouquet and took a deep breath.

The thick trees loomed over him as he quickly checked both ways and crossed the street. The long and winding walkway seemed to stretch out for miles in front of him, growing farther away each time he blinked the droplets out of his eyelashes. Never had the walk up the drive seemed so insurmountable.

When Paul finally reached the front door, he noticed his hands were shaking. His pulse picked up as he knocked sharply, and he stepped back to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Paul felt tears of frustration burn against his lower eyelids. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—he hadn’t called (reasoning being he didn’t think John would have picked up), and who was he to assume that John had simply gone home after what had just happened? Who was he to assume anything?

“Fuck,” Paul murmured aloud, wiping his nose on his sleeve and turning to go. “This is ridiculous.”

He managed to take one step before the sound of a latch rattled through the air, and the door creaked open.

“Paul?”

Paul spun around instantly, whipping the bouquet around his back. “Hm?”

Cynthia eyed the strange angle of Paul’s elbow as she mindlessly dried her hands on a dish rag. She took a cautious half-step out the door eyes flicking around the porch, presumably surveying to see if anyone else had accompanied him.

“It’s bloody miserable out here,” she noted, dropping the air of perplexity in an instant, though her eyes kept trailing to the bend of his arm that hid the flowers. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I was just making supper.”

Shaken out of his daze, Paul adopted a charming, gracious persona and ushered her back inside with an “after you” wave of a hand. Cynthia spun on her heel, throwing the towel over her shoulder and disappearing into the house. Paul followed not far behind, careful to drop the roses into the bushes before ducking under the doorway.

“John’s around here somewhere,” she called over her shoulder as Paul removed his shoes and coat. “Are you two writing together tonight? He’s been in a sour mood ever since he got back from the studio today. I figured he’d cancelled anything.”

Paul felt a massive wave of guilt wash over him. The picture of John’s face, just before he’d run out, burned behind his eyelids: the mixture of fear and shame and disappointment and hurt. Paul had spent the first hour and a half alone in the studio trying to push the image from his mind.

Cynthia blinked at him patiently, and he realized that she was waiting for an answer.

Paul cleared his throat unceremoniously, neither party acknowledging that he hadn’t brought anything besides himself. “Erm, yes. Writing. Maybe he’s forgotten.”

“I wish he’d tell me these things,” she muttered, half to herself, turning back towards the direction of the kitchen. “Be nice to be a bit prepared for guests.”

Paul shot her what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Cyn, am I really a guest to you, after all these years? Besides, ‘m not hungry anyway, thanks.”

She gave him a playful grin over her shoulder in return. “Right. I’d still like to be a good hostess, even if it’s just for family.”

The way she said “family” turned Paul’s stomach inside out. He felt a sudden chill settle over his body, sending a shudder down his spine. The innocent, welcoming, familial smile on Cynthia’s face no longer seemed any of those things, but instead made him want to curl into a ball, or take off running and never look back. It seemed to hit him all at once—Cynthia, Julian, John. A husband and a father. And his best mate. What had he come to accomplish? What did he think was going to happen? Paul suddenly felt nauseous, and the memory of John’s breathy curses as Paul pulled him to the brink of orgasm flashed through his mind.

Shit. What was he doing here?

“Y’know, actually,” Paul started, taking a step back and stumbling over a stray toy that only made him feel worse. “He’s probably in no state to write, if he’s all worked up, so I should really get going, sorry to bother—”

“What are you doing here?”

Paul and Cynthia both froze, neither hearing the man enter the room, but neither missing the bitterness of his voice, either.

John stood a step or two behind Cynthia, almost protectively, peering over her shoulder at Paul with a frostiness he’d only seen in recent arguments. Paul only stared back helplessly, wordlessly, everything that he wanted to say rendered unspeakable in the presence of the third party.

The three of them stood in that arrangement for a solid minute, no one daring to speak. Paul watched Cynthia shift uncomfortably at the tension, witnessing something she was clearly not privy to. To Paul’s relief (or dismay?), she quickly muttered something about checking on the food and excused herself from the hostility.

“We need to talk,” Paul said quietly, as soon as she was out of earshot.

John’s gaze followed his wife’s path out of the entryway. His eyes flicked back to Paul’s, angry, hesitant. Paul held his breath as he waited for the man to explode, exposing himself and his partner and all of the fucked up mess they’d gotten themselves in.

Instead, John sighed defeatedly. “Fine. Let’s go for a walk.”

—

Paul wracked his brain for something to say.

The ground moulded softly to their feet, sticks and leaves dampened by the earlier downpour and less than vocal. There was an eerie echo in the air, the kind of atmosphere that only exists after a heavy rain, when one is made aware of just how earthly the world is. The sounds were naught, the wind was still, the smell fragrant and sharp. Typically a pleasure, the serenity of the environment only seemed to mock the tension between them.

He knew he needed to be the first to talk. In the context of everything that had happened, Paul figured he had needed to be the first to talk a lot. He knew that John was expecting, even if he wasn’t sure of what to expect, and Paul needed to deliver. Something, at least.

But where to start? Because, “Hey, mate, sorry for not saying I love you back,” felt like a pretty shit place to start.

After two more minutes of walking in silence, Paul started to wonder if a place to start was as good as anything.

He cleared his throat, sensing John tense beside him at the sudden sound. Neither lifted their eyes. Now that he had John’s attention, it was now or never.

“I—erm. I’m sorry. For not saying it.”

John shook his head, but the way his features softened in amusement didn’t go unnoticed by Paul, who suddenly felt like crying with relief. Especially at the next remark. “Shit place to start, mate.”

“Figured why beat around the bush, right? Straight to the point, it is,” Paul joked, unable to suppress his giddiness at the tease of normalcy.

“Trying new things, are we?” John quipped, an edge to his voice.

Ah, the tease of normalcy. Exactly as it sounded.

“John, I—”

“Why?” John interrupted, halting suddenly. He turned towards Paul, his eyes dull with smoldering anger. Residual anger accumulated and compressed into the coals that were confronting him now. Paul felt dumbfounded, and a bit fearful.

“I-Why what?”

John gestured helplessly around them. His voice sounded extremely tired. “Why this? All of it?”

Paul heard the question for what it was. Why me?

“I love you.”

“Bullshit.”

“No,” Paul insisted, taking a step forward. They froze, neither knowing what he would do next. John’s eyes were wide, almost as if his fight or flight instinct was scrutinizing Paul’s every move. After a beat of silence, Paul scoffed and stepped backwards once more. “I mean it.”

“Why didn’t you say it?” John sounded pouty, like a child. Insulted.

“Because!” The word came out much stronger than Paul intended, shocking even himself. He took a shaky breath and raised a hand to his mouth to nibble on his thumbnail as he sorted it out. He began to pace, John’s eyes following him back and forth expectantly. He tried again.

“Because, I don’t know what to do with that feeling. I don’t know how to feel about you. I never have. Even from the moment I saw you, and you looked so fit with the guitar and the quiff and the way you were singing ‘Come Go With Me’ directly to me. And you weren’t, but it felt like it. And I’d never been so nervous in my entire life than when I talked to you after. Because you were John, the lad I’d seen on the bus and at the shop and on the streets, the lad I’d heard about but never actually met. And when I did meet you? It was like everything had fallen into place. Me mum, me dad, school, a career, war; all the things in life that were a drag to me weren’t even there anymore. Because I was in a band with the great John Lennon!

“And I came to hate anyone that had you more than I did. I can’t get on with people because of it—Pete Shotton never shut his gob about all your wild misadventures together, and I’d want to punch a bloody hole in the wall when I would see your eyes on Stu during ‘Love Me Tender’. And I feel so fuckin’ bad to this day for the way I treated Geo when he showed us his first song, but I couldn’t have someone else to compete with for you. I couldn’t. Because I need to be around you, John. I need to be yours as much as you are mine.

“And it’s only grown in all the years. At first, I needed you to like me. Then, I needed you to be proud of me. Then I needed you to trust me, as your equal, and come to me for things and with things. And for us to have the silent little conversations, and to be in tune with one another, and to know you better than I know myself and be known by you. And I still need all of those things, but there’s a new element. Now there’s the want.And maybe it started with some stupid fuckin’ dream but my feelings didn’t stay there. And it took a lot of reflection, to put these feelings into perspective. I've had a lot of time to think, recently. But now I recognize them for what they are. And I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, John. No one ever tells you that when you really love someone, there’s a lot more to it than just love. Or maybe all that is love. But if-if this, between us? If it’s not love, then-then I’m not sure what is.”

There was a long beat of silence. John gazed up at him with an unreadable expression.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Paul wrung his hands out in front of him, only now noticing how badly they were shaking. His chest heaved as though he’d only just finished a marathon. Fuck, indeed. “Mm.”

“The roses were cute,” John remarked, after a moment. A teasing smile threatened to envelop his features.

Paul stopped in his tracks, feeling his mouth form a surprised “o” as his mind fought for an excuse. Whatever he expected John to say after all that, that was not it.

Finally, he settled on something just as suave and poetic as his earlier monologue: “Huh?”

“Saw ‘em through the window,” he answered dismissively. “Bit queer. But, cute nonetheless.”

Paul blushed furiously, chastising the all-too-large part of himself that craved romanticism.

“I would’ve forgiven you, anyroad. Even without the roses,” John added quietly, his gaze dropping. He gave the ground a crooked smile. “Maybe not for a while, and maybe not all the way. But I can’t… help me self around you. I can’t explain it. And it’s absolutely awful, y’know. It’s been hard for me, too. Because I know that even if you just…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Used me, I’d still come back to you. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be right pissed for a while. It’d hurt like hell, but not as much as being away from you. Not as much as whatever has happened between us.”

The confession was painful. Paul felt a sharp twinge in his heart, almost as if it was the blade that he’d placed there himself. The idea that these past few weeks John had been moping around, ignoring him, reciprocating every effort to ensure that they were never alone, had been because John had thought he was being used. That Paul wanted him, but not in the same way that he wanted Paul.

He didn’t know what else to do.

John breath hitched as his back slammed into the stone wall, but his gasp was cut short as Paul’s lips devoured his own. His mind short-circuited, nothing more in the world existing at that moment than John, John, John. It’s over now, he wanted to comfort, to take John’s head in his hands and stroke the beautiful auburn hair behind his ears and thumb a stray tear from his cheek before placing a honey-sweet kiss on his trembling lips. You don’t have to feel that way anymore. And all he could do in the moment was try to convey that recognition through the kiss.

Fuck it if it would complicate things. Fuck it if they had to hide. Fuck it if it had to end someday. Because right now, all that mattered was John and Paul. As they were meant to be.

John hesitated only a millisecond before back fervently, almost as if he was afraid they would drift away from one another if he gave it any less effort. His tongue was elusive, licking into Paul’s mouth in all the right places but retreating as Paul chased it with his own. Their torsos were a mess of hands and body, pulling restlessly at one another every which way. Paul couldn’t get enough—he was too deliriously happy that they simply weren’t fighting anymore.

As the desperation began to subside, and the boys realized that they were both finally going to stay, the kisses gradually grew light and chaste. Paul felt lightheaded when they finally broke away for a deep breath. John gazed up at him, perfectly picturesque. His cheeks were flushed, lips pink and shiny, his breath coming out in short puffs between them in the shared air. Neither one of them dared speak, as they’d ruined far less important reunions than this with far too many words. The shared silence said more than words could, anyway. Neither had to explain the gravity of the situation to feel it.

Paul wasn’t sure when it had happened, but their fingers were laced together. Gently, as if trying not to spook a wild animal, he lowered them to the ground. Neither minded too much about the rain or the leaves or the damp dirt as they curled into one another, backs against the stone wall. They spent a long time listening to one another’s breathing as it slowed, watching rivulets of rainwater snake from leaf to leaf before pooling at their feet. Everything was okay.

“Paul?”

“Hm?” His fingers traced lazy circles on the soft underside of John’s forearm. His eyes were open, staring at a beading droplet, but they felt locked in a daze that was a cross between asleep and awake.

“Paul.”

Paul groaned at the insistency, a twinge of annoyance stirring in his chest at the interrupted bliss. “Yes?”

“What now?”

Paul blew a long stripe of air out of his lips. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I rather don’t want to consider it. The implications of it,” he rephrased quickly, panic welling up in his throat at the similarity of another “forget it” line. It threatened to bring a whole mess of neural connections that he simply didn’t want to deal with, namely: the awkwardness of the car ride and his resultantly strained relationship with Brian; the tensions in the group and an explanation for their soon-to-be-easing; the way George’s eyes slipped in between them more often than ever, but this time with an air of trauma; how the hell they were going to keep this to themselves if they were so god-awful at it already. Yes, better not to consider the implications yet.

John nodded in understanding. He waited a moment before speaking again.

“Cyn and I…”

As John trailed off, Paul’s eyes shot wide with alarm. His head whipped around to face John with a terror he hoped didn’t present as dramatic as it felt. No, no, no, why was he bringing her up? Why? When finally, finally everything was going well?

John refused to meet his gaze, and Paul waited patiently for the dreaded words of regret to come.

“We’re done for.”

Paul blinked uncomprehendingly.

“I mean,” John began, scratching the back of his neck. “Not officially, or anythin’. But I can see it. We’ve been cold for a while now, an’ it’s only a matter of time ‘fore she up and leaves me. We haven’t talked about it. But… I’ve been with her for ages, Paul. I know her at this point. There’s nothing left.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Paul asked quietly.

“Because you’re not just some bird, Paul!” John immediately flushed, realizing how silly the words sounded out loud, especially in the wake of their earlier conversation. He tried to backtrack, speaking slowly, explanatory. “I mean—I… Listen. I haven’t been the best to Cyn. There’s been loads of others, but it never meant anything. And you and I? I don’t know what this is.” He laughed, suddenly, as if the realization was just now striking. “Christ, do I not know. But it’s too good and too right. And I feel like I owe it to ya—to us—to cut the ties that may be stronger, even if it’s ties of a meaningless institution. I jus’—I dunno. I don’t want you thinking I keep you around for a good fuck and a song or two.”

Paul felt a wide grin spread across his features, and not only at the messy comment. He elected not the mention the way his stomach flipped upside down at the way John had said “us”. Instead, he chuckled lightly, and fished around in his pocket for a ciggie.

“And what a way with words he has. Ladies and gentleman, the better half of the world’s most famous songwriting duo!”

John scowled playfully. “Oh, piss off. How’s this for a rephrase: On account of our complicated and lustful affair of cosmic proportions, I would love it if you considered yourself an exquisite lady of the night proficient in excellent lovemaking and even more excellent intellectual stimulation and is paid with reciprocation rather than meaningless currency.”

Paul frowned around the fag as he focused on lighting it. “Worse. Much worse.”

John gave him a cheeky wink and flicked the end of his nose, causing Paul to gasp and drop the butt end of the cigarette onto his chest, leaving an angry black mark on the shirt. Paul jerked from the shock and swore. John only cackled at his misfortune.

Paul scowled at the loss of his fresh ciggie and the fading surprise of the burn mark. He hastily brushed at the ring, which he now realized was a minute but fizzling hole, and shot John an accusatory (but, regretfully, uncontrollably good-natured) glare. “You’re a child, Lennon.”

John grinned. “But you love me.”

Paul sighed, and for the first time in weeks, he felt utterly, blissfully, peacefully happy.

“Yes. I do.”

[c-130jsuperhercules]

Given that Rey is Palpatine’s grandaughter and also a scavenger of old imperial ships I think that she should have been really good with information, lore, and history, rather than good at fixing droids and ships and stuff. Luke was able to fix c-3po and r2rd2 because that’s what he did, as a farmhand; he tended to machines, and fixed robots. It also drew a parallel to Anakin, who was also really good with machines, good with ships, grew up on tatooine, etc. But I doubt that the decision to make Rey a descendant of palpatine was made by the first film, and it opens up some new Ideas for me as to her character.

Firstly, the similarities between Luke and Rey, in my mind, kind of end beyond desert planet and dead parents. Luke has a family, he works as a farmboy for a vital resource, he’s got a stable, safe life(at first). Rey apparently has no one, she scavenges old ships for stuff that apparently is only worth several bits of rations, I don’t see any motive for her to waste valuable time and resources fixing up robots and stuff that don’t appear to help her when she’s out and scavenging. I think it would be more interesting if, instead of trying to copy Luke and Anakin’s origins story, they leaned more heavily on how she’s looting and exploring a dead empire. Because she’s Palpatine’s descendant, she should have a natural curiosity for history, and the lore behind the ship.

The scene where she helped Han fix his own ship could’ve been improved. I’m not saying she’s a mary sue or whatever, but I think it’s a little weird she fixed in five seconds what Han couldn’t on the ship he had been flying for decades. It made her look smart, sure, but did that by making Han seem like a doddering old fool. I think it would’ve been better if she helped Han navigate through the ruin of a star destroyer in a chase scene, or gave an imperial access code to an ancient door that still takes it. For example, we could start out with her coming back to an old spot, clearly marked by a clean spot on the floor contrasting with the dust around her. She hooks up a battery she traded some valuable pieces for, and plays the scene.

A general, sending a message to his officer. Something about the tactics the officer is to execute when facing rebellion ships. She’s already seen the scene a hundred times, but she felt reassured by the confidence of the general. She also needed to eat lunch. A couple of rations bubbled to life in the corner as the face the voice belonged to flickered into view, round features, obviously a man from comfort. His hollow, yet intense eyes betrayed his deadly experience from a long career sustained by the nurturing destruction of war.

“...-not hold their own. They will employ hit and run tactics, meant to confuse you, draw your fighters away from the ship, and then disable the command center.” The frustrated edge in his voice told Rey just how successful this tactic was. “Keep the TIE fighters close. Establish a perimeter around the ship. The goal is a long, battle of attrition. This, they cannot win. If-” The officer’s voice cut in.

“But what if they attack a target that cannot be lost, say, a capital ship that has had its defenses temporarily disabled?”

“If their attention shifts to another essential target, pursue them. Do not fail. Hokar out.” The last of the rations popped from their packaging, startling Rey back to the dusty reality.

Then, later, she sees Han attempt that old republic tactic, unsuccessfully. She remembers what she saw, what she knows. She tells Han that, instead of faking fleeing, he should target some vital support systems left exposed during construction. He does so, and it draws their enemy out from their post. Han uses the superior speed and maneuverability  of the falcon to lead them through somewhere they couldn’t follow, and then blast off, escaping with whatever they had, whether that’s their lives or some valuables. Isn’t that better? Isn’t that better than throwing a beloved character under the bus to build up her ethos? It would also establish her as smart, quick on her feet, wise, with a long memory, and she knew how to use it, like a certain other senator.

Then, Palpatine. Palpatine achieved what all the legions of Sith before him could not; he destroyed the Jedi order. But not by might alone, he schemed and manipulated into making people make the wrong decisions. We could have the same thing happen with Rey! Once she is looked to for guidance, she comes up with a plan in the midst of battle. She stages a dramatic scene, prolonged fighting and losses making her doubt herself. But, just in the nick of time, the first order falls for the trick, and extends its face right where Rey wanted it to, and destroys it. The enemy is routed that day, and those beside her both celebrate her ingenuity, and ponder on what would happen if it was used against them.

Palpatine ate of the tree of knowledge, and knew death. He used that knowledge to darken hearts and promote himself to emperor. Near the ultimate climax, Rey will also receive knowledge, dark and terrible. She will see prophecies of her friends dying, histories of those that had come before her and failed, visions of the present dire situation. Having hope, she dismisses these. But, the dark side tries again. It tempted Palpatine over with promises of power and rule, and so it will try that same method with Rey. Isn’t she tired of not being the one in control? Doesn’t she want to wrest control from the blinding light, and plunge the galaxy in a soothing darkness, a darkness she controlled directly? She will not have friends, or a family, but they will be weak to the power she wields. She will not be given a choice, but will instead find herself on the same path Palpatine and Anakin were on, and failed. She will start to wrest control for herself, greedily hoarding information, doling it out when it suited her.

But, her vision extends beyond his. She will see that it takes many pairs of eyes to take in a complete picture, many men talking to each other to describe an elephant. Life should be lived with others, not alone as Palpatine aspired to, surrounded by equals, not placed above them, blah blah blah, light side crap. She will choose the harder path in a climactic scene/lightsaber battle, proving herself stronger for climbing the bloodied steps to the light. I could probably put this whole thing into a step-by-step hero’s journey type thing, but that’s a bit too much effort for me.

thx for reading, talk to me if you disagree or whatever.

[stories-sometimes]

I��ve Made A Huge Mistake {11/?}

Peter Parker x Reader, Quentin Beck x Reader

Summary: Peter just wanted to enjoy his trip to Europe, maybe even confess his feelings to his best friends.But along came a mysterious new hero to ruin those plans. Peter and his class are aged up and in college.

Warnings: Violence in later chapters, manipulation, age gap

Word Count: 1697

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

“How’s the suit coming?” Happy asked as they neared London.

“Almost done.” Peter answered him, “Wait, wait, wait. If something happens, can you give this to her.” He asked, pulling out the daisy charm necklace he’d bought back in Venice.

“You’re gonna give it to her yourself.” Happy reassured him. “You got this, I’m going to get your friends.” Peter took a deep sigh trying to pump himself up. Fully motivate himself for the fight about to come. He watched the final parts of his suit being formed, the spider emblem being placed in the centre of the chest.

Thick clouds grouped around London Bridge. Ned and MJ’s worry increased as they observed it. They soon found themselves sprinting off the bus, ducking under the sparks flying and their bus being drawn into the sky. The monster kept growing, far bigger than any that had attacked before. A skeleton-like face emerged from the thunder clouds, roaring before destroying parts of the bridge and blasting the surrounding walls. 

Happy flew his jet high above the illusions until they were at the centre of it. Then, Peter jumped from the plane, releasing a parachute. He landed on one of the many drones on the inside of the elemental. He looked around to see a series of drones all flying around the hollow middle to perfectly project the image.

“This is awesome.” Peter mumbled under his breath. He soon began jumping from drone to drone, webbing them together. Once they were all interlocked he dropped down. “I hope this works.” He muttered as he shot a wave of electricity through them all. Seconds later the projectors began to malfunction. The illusions began to shut off, slowly revealing the London sky. As they disappeared, Peter caught sight of Beck’s hiding spot. He began to swing his way over to the bridge.

“EDITH give me some protections.” Beck ordered. Right before Peter reached the bridge he was hit by a drone, snapping his web and sending him falling down to the bridge below.

“Peter!” She screamed, slamming her hands against the window as she watched her best friends cough and splutter as he tried to get back up.

“Just kill it, just kill the illusion.” Beck told William.

“No, they’ll see it.”

“They’ll see what I want them to see.” Beck replied, fully losing his cool. She turned back to see him, now well and truly terrified of this man. 

“Okay, okay.” William shut them all off, the whole elemental disappearing. Showing all the drones to the civilians below. 

“EDITH, target Parker.” Peter ran, jumped and swung to try to avoid the shots being fired at him. The other few drones focused on Happy and their friends he had picked up. She stayed there, stuck in that bridge, unable to help her friends. Beck watched her friends run into the Tower of London, keeping a drone following them.

“Beck, stop, I’m doing what you want.” She cried at him, trying to wrench one arm away from the other to stop him controlling the drone.

“Well, that was until your little spider friend came and sabotaged my plans.” He easily overpowered her, shoving her away from him. One of the drones hovered over her, threatening her if she tried to move again. Below them, Peter hid behind an abandoned taxi. He shot two webs at the towers above, bringing the taxi up with him, throwing it back down to destroy some of the drones.

“Going up.” Peter said to himself as he grabbed an upwards flying drone. When that one was shot down he connected to another. Then another. Then another. Soon he was forced back down to the bridge. He went to swing himself back up, only to find he’d run out of webs. He began to grab pieces of debris collapsed around him to create a makeshift bomb and a shield. He ran into the firing range, using the shield to defend himself before throwing the bomb into the main cluster of the drones. He used one of the drones to throw himself through the glass floor of where Beck was hidden. He punched the fishbowl-like monitor Beck was wearing, causing the older man to lose control over some of the drones. He looked over to the corner of the room, his heart dropping when he saw her cowering in fear, a drone guarding her. Before Peter could do any more damage he was shot down by one of the drones Beck could still use.

“Just give me back EDITH and leave her alone.” Peter demanded as he stood back up, ignoring the immense pain for the sake of the greater good.

“You want these.” Beck pulled out the glasses and gestured to her. “Well come get ‘em.” The drones projected an all-black scene onto the bridge, blocking out any real view of him or the drones. Peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes and allowing himself to rely on his spider-sense. He ran forward, moving to jump from wall to ceiling while simultaneously smashing any drone he came into contact with. Once the darkness had cleared Peter saw Beck stood, a tight grip on his struggling best friend. Beck dragged her outside of the indoor room, leading them to a ledge on the bridge. He held her dangerously close to the edge, closing his hand around her throat. All of Peter’s worst nightmares were coming true right in front of here. The thought of losing her made him feel physically sick.

“You lose EDITH and this fight, or you lose her.” Beck threatened. Peter watched her, tears forming in her eyes as she tried to form a proper sentence. He knew what his choice would be. As he went to step back and hold his hands up in surrender he heard a loud crash behind him and a deep groan. The image in front of him vanished and Peter senses flared up. Instantly he turned around to grab the gun a hunched over Beck was pointing at him. Behind Beck stood her, a ripped-off piece from a drone in her hands. It became clear to Peter that she had slammed Beck over the head.

“Oh my God,” She mumbled, an incredibly shocked expression covering her face. “I can’t believe I did that, that was really violent.” Peter couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous her reaction was right now.

“Not the time to worry about that.” Peter said.

“Yeah, yeah,” she hit Beck again, “You fucking asshole.” She screamed.

“Get out of here.” Peter told her, she nodded and ran out of the tower. Peter grabbed the glasses off Beck’s face as the other man fell to the floor.

“EDITH turn off the drones.”

“Biometric scan complete, welcome back Peter. Should I execute all cancellation programs.” EDITH asked.

“Do it, execute them all.” Peter ordered. Immediately all the drone flew away, back to the satellite they’d come from. Once he was confident he had succeeded and that Fury’s team was on their way to arrest a passed out Beck, he left the bridge.

Back on the ground, she ran into Happy and her friends. She hugged MJ as tightly as she could.

“He did it, Beck’s done.” She quickly explained to the group.

“Holy fuck, I was so scared.” MJ said before letting go. 

“Same. I wouldn’t be able to cope if anything happened to you guys.” She replied, feeling the tears build.

“Don’t be lame.” MJ said, failing to hide her real emotions. She turned, grabbing onto Ned.

“You’re safe. We thought you might die.” Ned exclaimed, clearly incredibly relieved.

“Me,” She replied, “I thought Beck was trying to kill you, I thought I’d lost you all.” She cried.

“Where’s Peter?” Happy asked her quietly.

“He’s fine, he did it, he’ll be down soon.” She explained.

“Oh, he asked me to give you this.” Happy said, reaching into his pocket to pull out the necklace. A few of the petals had snapped off during all the commotion. All the bright childhood memories of Peter giving her the homemade bouquets came flying back into her mind. 

“He got me this.” Her heart soared at the thoughtfulness of the gift. 

Happy escorted the group back to where the rest of the class was recovering. Peter was sat in one corner, back in his regular clothes. A first aider finished tending to the wounds on his body. She sprinted towards him, carefully pulling him into a hug to avoid hurting his injuries. Peter wrapped his arms around her waist, a weight finally lifting off his shoulders now that she was safe. 

“I’m so, so sorry. I should never have believed him. I should’ve realised the story was too far fetched, that it was all bullshit.”

“Hey, hey, it’s not your fault. He convinced Nick Fury his stories were real, if he could do that, he could make anyone trust him. Beck preyed on your kindness, he manipulated you, you aren’t in the wrong.” He reassured her, refusing to let go of her.

“How are you?” She asked, gently tracing her finger over a particularly bad cut on his face.

“It looks a lot worse than it is, most of this will be gone by the morning. Really, I feel more betrayed than actually hurt. What about you?”

“Physically, fine. Emotionally, definitely bruised.” She laughed a little, trying to make some light of the dire situation. She slumped down next to him. “I fucked a psycho. I fucked an actual super villain.” She admitted in defeat.

“Smart.” Peter joked, his heart sinking slightly.

“Wait,” She pulled away from him so she could take the necklace out of her pocket. “Happy gave me this.”

“No, it’s broken.” Peter complained, cupping it in his hands.

“I like it better that way, feels more like the gifts I’d get when we were kids. Thank you.” Peter grinned at her reaction. “Put it on for me.” She asked, turning around and brushing the hair off the back of her neck. Peter’s hands shook slightly as he clasped the necklace. It lay delicately on the centre of her chest. She rested her hand over it. “I love it Peter.”

Taglist Open:

@cool-ontherun-world 

@eleventhdoctorsangel 

@chubby-tink

@eridanuswave

@squishychar1ie

@sincerely-cronch

@charmed-asylum

@lukesbabylon

@cutie1365

@smilexcaptainx

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Break-Ins & Backstories

A JSE Fanfic

So apparently it’s now a thing that if I do a pw story, I have to follow it up with another after another week before I do other stories. Maybe that’ll change, now that I’ve built up to what I consider the Big reveal. It starts with Marvin doing a Bad Thing (or maybe just a Questionable Thing), flashes back to our good friend Laurens, and then JJ has something to say. Hope you enjoy!

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

Marvin got off the bus a stop earlier than he usually did. Before he set off to walk the rest of the way, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, checking for any calls or messages real quick. He wasn’t sure when he’d next get the chance, and, well...if he had to be honest, he was starting to get a little worried about the other two. He hadn’t seen either of them in person in the last week, and their text messages had grown shorter. Though he kept telling himself he was going to go over and check on each of them in person, he was terrible at remembering to.

No messages from either of them. Marvin put the phone into his bag and sighed. He might message them, but he had a plan to execute today. A plan he’d been meaning to do for a while.

Marvin adjusted the position of his bag on his shoulders, and started down the sidewalk. It was a nice fall day, so he didn’t mind the walk. Besides, the key to this was stealth. He didn’t want to be seen...or recognized. And taking the bus probably would’ve led to either of those results. Though if he was seen, he would probably be recognized, since he did look almost exactly like one of their patients...Doesn’t matter, he just had to get in and look around, and if they caught him after he’d done that, he wouldn’t mind as much.

It wasn’t long before the hospital came into sight. The front doors were right there and easily accessible, but Marvin didn’t go inside. Instead he skirted around to the side of the building. There was an employee entrance, right next to the fence blocking off the back courtyard, with a card reader next to the door. Marvin pulled his shoulder bag off, opening it up and rummaging around inside until he found what he was looking for: a key card. He swiped it through the reader and watched as the red light flashed green. Quickly, he ducked inside, grinning to himself.

He did feel a little bad about nicking the card from one of the orderlies on his last visit, but it was for a good cause. Besides, he’d leave it behind once he’d finished here, and the orderly could have it back. He just wanted it for the access.

Marvin was now inside the halls of Silver Hills. This area was rarely open to people who weren’t staff or patients, but there were handy signs pasted on the walls to help out any new staff members or patients who got confused. Marvin spotted the one for the employee locker room, and followed the hall the arrow pointed down, ready to duck into another room at the first sign of trouble.

Something was up with that Newson lady. In the last few weeks, he’d been to visit Schneep twice, tagging along with Chase, and he could just tell something was wrong. There was just this...this tone that he couldn’t quite identify, but definitely didn’t like. Passive-aggressive? Was that the word? Yeah, he was pretty sure that was it. When Marvin and Chase would show up for the visit, she would always needle them about making sure they were absolutely sure that they wanted to do this, and kept dropping hints about how Schneep was dangerous. During the visit, she would sit uncomfortably close, and kept checking her watch. The minute the time was up, she’d push them out.

Marvin was no expert in medical—psychological?—ethics, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t the policy. And knowing what he’d found out a few weeks ago, he was sure Newson was doing this on purpose as revenge for Schneep supposedly killing this relative of hers. He’d tried bringing it up to Chase again last time, but for some reason, Chase hadn’t seemed much concerned about it. And when Marvin had tried to push the point, Chase had blown up, shouting that he didn’t have any proof and he didn’t need to make anything harder.

His guess was that Chase was under a lot of pressure recently.

Well, Marvin had dropped the subject, but hadn’t stopped thinking about it. He’d snagged the orderly’s key card on that visit, and started to hatch his plan. They needed proof? Fine, he’ll get proof.

The employee locker room was simple enough, looking like a gym locker room but without showers or bathrooms. There was an attached closet, door half-open to show rows of spare orderly uniforms. Marvin breathed a small sigh of relief. The plan had been to try and sneak around in his everyday clothes, but now he could blend in. He changed quickly in the small closet. Once back out, he began looking through his bag again. He pulled out a manila folder—Schneep’s case file. Grinning, Marvin shoved the clothes inside the bag, and shoved the back into a locker in the corner, hoping nobody would check that one. Rifling through the case file, he found a second key card: the one to Schneep’s room, the one that had belonged to the old doctor, Lauren or something. Marvin tucked that key card, along with the one that had opened the employee door, into the uniform’s pocket. Clutching the file to his chest so he looked more official, Marvin left, once again wandering the halls.

He found the employee break room next, and snatched up a pad of paper and a pen sitting on one of the tables. Just in case. Then he once again turned his attention to the signs, following them into the halls with actual patient rooms. He knew which room he was looking for. The key card was labelled with it. And luckily, the rooms were numbered, digits written in black on the white doors. He glanced at them as he passed. There were a few other staff members in the halls, recognizable by their uniforms, and even a few patients, but none of them paid him any mind. He was starting to realize that “sneaking around” wasn’t really an option, so he was really lucky the room had backup uniforms, even if the short sleeves made him feel exposed and uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, he found Room 1010. “Alright, here we go,” he whispered to himself. He reached forward to open it, but the door wouldn’t budge, locked. He was vaguely surprised at that. Even though the room had a key, he hadn’t really expected it to be locked. Other kinds of hospitals didn’t lock doors with patients inside. But whatever. He took out the room key and slid it through the reader, then entering the room.

This was...small. Even for a bedroom, it was small. And there wasn’t much in it. The light was on, casting an even white light over everything. Marvin’s eyes were immediately drawn to the bed against one wall. There was a figure huddled underneath white blankets.

Quickly, Marvin crossed the room to stand next to the bed. He dropped the things he was carrying on the nearby table and crouched down so he was at eye-level with the bed. “Hey...Schneep?” It looked like Schneep was asleep. But with how pale he was, Marvin couldn’t help but feel a jolt of nerves. He slowly reached over and shook Schneep’s shoulder. “Schneepy boy?”

“Mnnh..” Schneep’s eyes opened a crack, cloudy underneath his eyelids. He stared blankly at Marvin.

“Oh, you’re awake, that’s great.” Marvin tried to smile. “Hi. I’m um...checking on you. I-I don’t know, the last time I saw you, you were kinda...I don’t know. Out of it, I guess.”

From the looks of things, Schneep was still kind of out of it. He stared at Marvin for a few more silent seconds before lifting his head up. “Mmr—Marvin?” 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Marvin waved a bit. “Like I said...just came to check on you. How, uh...how’re you feeling? Cause you, uh...don’t look too good.”

It wasn’t entirely clear if Schneep could hear what Marvin was saying. Well, he could hear, but it was possible the words weren’t exactly registering. Schneep stared at Marvin for a bit longer before asking, “How...how did you...here? How?”

“I broke in,” Marvin said casually. “I mean, I probably didn’t think it through as much as I should’ve. Or maybe I did and just didn’t think about certain things...a-anyway, enough about that. How’re you feeling?”

Schneep blinked slowly. Then he rolled over, lying on his back instead of his side. “I feel...feel...durcheinander.”

“I don’t know that word,” Marvin admitted. “Is that bad?”

“I...do not like it.” Schneep closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he tried to sit up. But his movements were slow, confused, and he ended up floundering, arm waving vaguely.

“Oh. Oh! Hey, I-I got you.” Marvin stood up, offering Schneep a hand. Once he took it, Marvin pulled him upright. Schneep leaned forward, suddenly paling further. He covered his hand with his mouth. “You okay?”

Schneep shook his head. “I...sick. I am going to be sick.”

“Like, you’re gonna throw up?” Marvin took a small step backwards. “Um, you need a basket or something? I can just—” He looked around the room again, but there wasn’t a trash can to be found.

“Nein, nein,” Schneep waved him away—or maybe he was trying to do something else that didn’t come through clearly. “You could not get...anything for me.”

“Well I mean, I could. I can stick around for a little bit longer.” In truth, Marvin wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay. He didn’t want to push his luck with the whole trespassing thing. 

“Das ist gut, s fine,” Schneep muttered. “Go back to your...wherever you are from.”

“Ireland? Don’t think I can do that so quickly.”

Schneep chuckled. It faded quickly. “I miss you...Good to see you now, even if...you are not really here.”

Marvin felt his heart plummet. “Um...of course I’m here, Schneep.”

Schneep was shaking his head before Marvin even finished speaking. “No, no, do not try to fool me. I know he killed you.”

“Wh—Schneep, no, I-I’m not dead!” Marvin grabbed Schneep’s nearest hand and squeezed it. “I’m right here! We saw each other, like, two weeks ago? I-I came to visit with Chase, it was...the twenty-eighth, I think.”

Tears were starting to gather in Schneep’s eyes. He didn’t seem to notice, letting them leak out with every blink. “Maybe so...” he whispered, barely audible. “I am not good with the wann und wo recently...but he tells me he killed you.” He shivered a bit. “He did—does not know your name, but I-I recognize you from wh-what he said.” Schneep blinked, looking Marvin over. “Where are the marks? From the...there was a knife...did I fix it? Is that why you are here now?”

Marvin suddenly stiffened, eyes widening. “How did you know—” He stopped himself, letting go of Schneep’s hand and taking a few steps back. “Who...who is this ‘he,’ Schneep? Do we know him?”

“Ja,” Schneep muttered, wrapping his arms around himself. “Of course you know, he killed you.”

“No, I-I—what about before that?” Marvin asked. “Did I know him before that?”

“How would I know that? Vielleicht hast du ihn gekannt, I would not know.”

Marvin shook his head, completely confused for a moment. But then he remembered why he was here. “Nevermind, it’s not important.” He picked up his items from the table, opening the pad of paper to a new sheet and writing down a few notes so he’d remember what had gone on in this visit: Tired, seems confused, hard to move (bad motor control?), low energy (listless), says he’s nauseous, thinks I’m dead?  “Schneep, this is important,” he said, looking up again. “Have you...left this room? Other than on Fridays visiting Chase.”

“Have I...?” Schneep frowned, thinking. “I...I do not know.” A few more tears trickled down his face. “Maybe not. Perhaps I have always been here.”

“You haven’t, and I’m trying to make sure you won’t be.” Marvin made a note of what Schneep said. “What about what they give you? You get meds, right?”

“The little pills, yes. There are two of them, and one ist blau und the other is weiß.” He blinked idly. “Different shapes.”

Marvin nodded. He knew enough German to recognize color names, and he wrote them down. “Okay. What about that doctor lady? Newson?”

“New—” Schneep’s expression soured. He tried to scowl, but its fierceness was muffled by the dull look in his eyes. “She hates me.”

“Yeah, I think she does.”

“Always saying I am horrible and a fraud and...” Schneep trailed off. “She hates me.”

“Yeah,” Marvin muttered, finishing up the note he was writing. He nodded, picking up the stack of stuff. “I have to hurry, Schneep. So I have to go now. I...I’ll see you again.”

Schneep nodded, not looking at him. “Go do your dead things,” he muttered.

“I...” Marvin hovered nearby for a moment. Maybe he shouldn’t go...but he had no idea if anyone had seen him yet, and he didn’t want to risk someone coming in to check on Schneep. “I’ll see you,” he said, voice cracking. “Bye, Schneep.”

He headed for the door. Standing in the doorway, he glanced back to give Schneep one last look before leaving, closing the door behind him. He allowed himself one moment, just one moment, to take a deep breath and think about what happened. Then he shook his head, and moved on.

Following the signs again, he found a room labelled “Medication & Med. Records.” It was locked by another key card, but the one he’d used to get in worked here as well, and he slipped inside.

Three walls of the room were lined with small metal cupboards, like P.O boxes. The other wall had a small window with a counter, through which could be seen another hallway. Marvin assumed that was where most of the orderlies and patients would pick up various medications and records. Next to the window were several filing cabinets.

“And this is where things get complicated,” Marvin muttered. He set the stack of stuff on top of a filing cabinet, and looked over the room. The small wall boxes were labelled with numbers, and they all had small keyholes. They were probably locked. “Maybe I don’t need to look inside those,” he said to himself. He then turned his attention to the filing cabinets. The problem here was that these were also locked, as he discovered when he tried to open one. And these were also labelled with numbers, presumably corresponding to the boxes. Marvin swore under his breath. This was fine, though. He’d prepared to face traditional locks like this. Bending over, Marvin reached into his sock and pulled out a few thin, bent pieces of metal. He hadn’t done this in a while, but he was pretty sure he still knew how to do it.

He was kneeling on the floor, fiddling with the locks on one of the filing cabinets in absolute silence, when he heard the door behind him open.

“Wh—hey!”

Marvin stiffened, and shot to his feet, grabbing his stuff and turning around, ready to bolt. But he paused for just a moment. This guy looked familiar...

“Hey, don’t I know you?” The orderly asked. “You look like—aren’t you that Marvin guy?”

“No, my name is, uh, Brandon.” That was a bad name, why’d he choose that one? Why did he hesitate and make it sound super suspicious? Why was he just standing here? “Anyway I was just leaving—”

“You are!” The orderly shouted in realization. “You’re Schneep’s friend! What’re you doing here? Dressed like—”

Marvin bolted for the door. The orderly stepped in front of him, and closed the door. “Fuck!” Marvin shouted, skidding to a halt. Okay, this guy was at least two inches taller than him, and significantly broader. He couldn’t fight his way out. “Look, I promise, I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for being here, wearing one of your uniforms.”

The orderly raised an eyebrow. “And that is?”

He hadn’t been expecting that. So he just blurted out the truth. “I’m pretty sure Dr. Newson is abusing her power and treating Schneep bad because he killed some relative of hers so I snuck in to find proof of malpractice to sue her.” And that sounded totally insane when summed up like that.

For a moment, the orderly stared at him, completely silent. And then, “Oh, wow, I guess it sure sucks that I ran right into you, huh?” He said. “But I guess it sucks even more that I’m not authorized to stop you from doing anything, since I’m not a security officer.”

Marvin blinked, surprised.

The orderly walked right past him, over to the filing cabinets. He reached inside his pocket and took out a ring of keys. Kneeling on the ground, he unlocked one of the drawers. “Guess I’ll just have to keep doing my job I was assigned for the afternoon while you’re here,” he said. “Looking at some of the records.” He pulled out a green file with a plastic tab. Marvin walked a bit closer and noticed it was labelled with a number, and a last name: Schneeplestein. “Just making sure that both copies of them are in here.” The orderly flipped through the file, taking out two sets of stapled paper, one white and one yellow. He put the yellow copy down on the filing cabinet. “Oh, guess I’ll man the window now,” the orderly said, very deliberately looking away from Marvin and the filing cabinets.

Now that was a hint obvious that even Marvin could get it. He darted across the room, snatched up the yellow copy, and ran back towards the door. As he flung it open he heard the orderly say, “Oh no! Guess I’ll have to call security now!”

Marvin didn’t say thank you to the orderly—What was his name? Didn’t it start with an O?—but he hoped the gratitude came across anyway. He clearly didn’t have time to go about looking for anything else, if he really was about to call security. He headed back to the employee locker room.

One quick change back into his clothes later, Marvin was shoving the paper with his notes, the case file, and the yellow copy back into his shoulder bag. He sighed in relief, and headed back. Now he just had to go out the same side door he came in through.

He left the room, went down the hall, and then when he turned the corner he ran into a very familiar face.

“Who the hell—?!” Newson’s eyes widened, and she took a step back.  “You’re that crazy Maher guy.”

“I’m not crazy,” Marvin said, bristling. 

“What the hell are you doing back here?!” Newson shouted. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Please leave before I have security remove and arrest you.”

“Not if I arrest you first,” Marvin muttered.

“What?”

“Nevermind. I’m going around you now.” Marvin indeed darted around Newson, already behind her by the time she even processed his words. He was a few steps down the hallway before he paused, turned around, and said, “Hey you know you’re an asshole, right?”

“What?!” Newson looked completely shocked. “You—you break into my place of work, and you call me a—how’d you get in here?!”

“I’m just telling the truth.” Marvin shrugged. Internally, he knew he would regret this, but he couldn’t stop. “Because, you know, I’m pretty sure most people wouldn’t do the things you do in this situation. Isn’t it kind of a conflict of interest?”

Newson suddenly went very, very still. “What are you talking about?” she asked in a low voice.

Marvin folded his arms. “I’m just surprised nobody noticed your family name was in the Christmas case.”

Suddenly, Newson had closed the distance between the two of them. Marvin jumped back, looking up at her. “Do you have a twin, Mr. Maher?” she asked coldly.

“...no,” Marvin said after a long pause.

“Then I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Newson grabbed Marvin’s upper arm. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand what it’s like when someone you’ve known your whole life, someone you’ve always shared a connection with, suddenly isn’t there anymore.” She leaned close, lowering her voice. “You’re not exactly in a position to be calling me anything right now. If you leave without saying anything else, I’ll just forget this ever happened.” She stared at him a moment more, making sure to keep eye contact even though he kept trying to look away. And then she let go, and stepped back. “Go. Get out of here.”

Marvin hurriedly turned and ran. He didn’t stop until he was out the door and off the hospital property, back on the sidewalk by the road.

Panting, Marvin tried to collect himself. He pressed a hand to his chest, looking down at the ground as he bunched the fabric of his shirt under his fingers. After a moment, he gently hit his leg a couple times with his other hand, not enough to hurt but enough to be noticeable, enough to give him some form of calm.

After a few more moments, he realized he could hear his phone ringing.

Marvin patted his pockets before remembering he put his phone into his bag. He pulled the bag open and dug around inside, grabbing his phone only to see the call drop. His lockscreen was filled with notifications: 4 missed calls from Chase, and at least thirty texts from Chase, too.

That...couldn’t be good.

Marvin dialed Chase’s number. He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, what’s happening? Why are you calling me?” Marvin asked.

“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering?!” Chase shouted on the other end. Then his voice went distant, like he was holding the phone away from his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Back to normal, though Chase was now whisper-shouting. “I’ve been trying to reach you for like two hours!”

“I was away from my phone, i-it’s a long story,” Marvin said. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Well I went over to JJ’s house to check on him,” Chase explained. “Cause you know, he’s done that for me a lot, so—a-and I hadn’t really seen him since that movie night a few weeks ago, so—and the second he answered the door and saw me, he started freaking out!”

“What? JJ started freaking out?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, I asked him what was up and he was just crying all of a sudden, and hyperventilating, and signing really fast. I-I don’t know why, but he wants to talk to both of us, in person. Says he has something to tell us?”

“What?” What could JJ possibly have to talk about? Not to say that he couldn’t have something to talk about, just that Marvin wasn’t aware of something that was troubling him. Then again, the last few weeks, Jameson had been strangely silent in his texts...

“Get your ass over here!” Chase hissed.

“Yeah I got that part!” Marvin looked around the nearby area. “I’m out, there’s a bus stop nearby. I’ll be there in...I-I don’t know, an hour?”

“An hour?!”

“I’m on the other side of town, so yeah!” Marvin snapped. “Just tell him I’m coming! I-I’ll be there soon!”

“Alright, just hurry!”

Marvin hung up, practically sprinting to the nearby bus stop. He checked the bus schedule and routes on his phone. Yeah, it was starting to look like his ETA of an hour was pretty accurate. He sighed, bouncing in place. It shouldn’t be too long a wait, but he needed to get there soon. Any wait was too long.

——————

She’d been crying for the past thirty minutes straight. At first out of pain, as she held her left arm closer to her and tried not to move it. It must’ve been broken, or maybe dislocated, she couldn’t be sure right now. But eventually it was less of a shock. No, the tears were for something else now.

Jackie had tried talking to her at first, but backed off once he realized she wasn’t going to respond. But he was growing worried now, she could see it in his face, even from here. “What happened?” he asked again. “Are you okay?”

Laurens stared up at the ceiling, as if she could see through it to the ground floor of the house above. Tears trickled downward. “I...I think he might kill me,” she whispered.

Jackie tried to inch closer, even though he was already as far out as the chain would allow him to be. “Why?”

She blinked rapidly. “Because I gave him what he wanted.” She let out a choked sob. “I-I couldn’t do it, I-I’m not—not strong like this, I—”

“Hey, Rya. You’re plenty strong,” Jackie said, offering her a smile. “It’s been, what, a little over a month? That sounds pretty good to me.”

Laurens wiped at her eyes with her good hand; the other one had been handcuffed to the pipe again. “...thanks,” she breathed. Then she cleared her throat and spoke up louder. “Thanks. But...but I still think—I’m going to—oh god, no. Please. I-I don’t want to—”

“You don’t know that he’s going to—”

“Why wouldn’t he? H-he has no reason to k-keep me around.” Laurens shuddered. “I should’ve kept quiet. But I-I told him everything.” She paused. “I-I don’t even know why he’s so concerned about Henrik. Why he wants to...know everything. B-but I couldn’t do it anymore.” A morbid laugh escaped her mouth. “Well, what can he even do with all of that? A few notes about his condition that are probably actually kind of inaccurate, given what I know now. It’s useless.” Maybe that was why she stopped protecting it. Because she thought there was nothing he could do with the information that he wanted so much, for some unknown reason. But maybe that was just what she said to herself to justify it.

Jackie was quiet for a long, long moment. He wouldn’t look at her. “Well...you don’t know if he’ll...you know.” He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “I thought after Schneep was taken he’d...you know. I-I wouldn’t be around anymore. But instead we just...I-I don’t know, hung out in an apartment for a couple weeks.”

“Really?” Laurens asked idly.

“Yeah. I don’t remember much of it, he...I was...he put a lot of shit in my system,” Jackie finally said. “So, y’know, pretty out of it.” He shook his head. “Anyway, my point is, you never know with him.”

Laurens didn’t say anything to that. Jackie didn’t say anything else. The two of them fell silent for a few minutes. Laurens watched the light coming from the basement window gradually dim and fade. What time was it? Not sunset, since there was still light. If she’d been keeping track of the days correctly, it was October, and the sun set around six. So maybe it was around five. She sighed. Why was she even bothering to figure this out? Was she that bored? She was surprised that her boredom could overcome the intense fear that she was going to die.

Because she was convinced that was going to happen. This man, this...Anti... he killed thirteen people, directly and indirectly. What was one more?

She didn’t want to die.

Tears were rising to her eyes again. She shifted her sitting position, and cried out when this jostled her broken arm. Scowling, she looked down at the arm and the cuff holding it down. And after a moment, she yanked at it, gasping at the sudden surge of pain.

Jackie sat up straight. “Rya...what’re you doing?”

“I-I don’t know.” Laurens gritted her teeth. “I-I just—” She yanked again, crying out a bit. And again, this time biting her lip to stop from making any sound.

“Please stop,” Jackie said, reaching out. “You’re going to make it worse.”

“I don’t care.” Yank. “I just—” Yank, this time with more force, enough to put her off balance. She yelled. “I don’t want to go out like—!” Yank. She cried out. “I want to try!” She shouted. She steadied herself, grabbing her broken arm with her good one. “I want to—!”

She screamed.

“Rya!” Jackie instinctively darted forward, only to be suddenly pulled back by the ankle cuff. He yelped. “Rya! Are you okay?!”

For a moment, Laurens couldn’t answer. She was crying again. Her entire arm was on fire, caught in a brace of white-hot pain, concentrated on her wrist. For a moment, all she could do was lie on her back where she’d fallen back. Slowly, she went to grip her wrist—her wrist!

She looked down. The wrist of her left arm was free; there wasn’t a handcuff around it anymore. Her eyes widened. She moved her wrist a bit to see if it was true, only to immediately cry out when the pain flared to a higher intensity. She fell back against the floor, but one minute later, she sat up again. With her good arm, she used a nearby wooden support to stand up. She kept staring downward. Her legs wobbled from disuse, but she wasn’t tethered to the pipe anymore. “I...”

“Holy shit...” Jackie whispered. “Did...did he make it a little loose?”

“Maybe,” Laurens muttered. Not too loose, but enough to pull free—with the price of dislocating her wrist, of course, but that was a price she was willing to pay. She suddenly snapped to attention, spinning around to look at the basement room. “Jackie!” She gasped, and ran across the room to him, falling to her knees beside him. “Jackie, don’t worry, I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“You’re—oh!” Jackie started as she suddenly grabbed his ankle, rolling up his pants with one hand to look at the cuff around it. He heard her inhale sharply, breath hissing. Though he’d tried to cushion the cuff with his sock, he slipped up sometimes, enough times that there was no a ring of bruising and scabs around his ankle. “Be careful, please.”

“I will, I will.” Laurens turned the cuff over, trying to be as gentle as possible. Thick metal, with a single hole for a key...more like an old-fashioned manacle than a modern day handcuff. She frowned, and scooted over to look at the support pillar Jackie was tethered to. The chain was wrapped tightly around the pillar, secured with a combination lock. “Fuck,” she cursed, pulling at the lock. “Th-there’s a way to pick these, I-I think. You’re supposed to take something thin and jab it...I-I don’t know, somewhere—”

“Rya.”

“—or you can try to figure out the combo by, like, listening for clicks or something? I can—”

“Rya!” Jackie snapped. Laurens fell silent, looking up at him. “I think we both know there’s no way you can undo this.”

Laurens stared at him. Then she shook her head. “Sh-shut up, I-I’m sure there’s something upstairs—”

“He’s probably up there right now.”

“—or I can try to pull you out—”

“With a broken arm?”

“—maybe you can get your foot out the same way I got my hand out—”

“Yeah, there’s not enough space for that, and even if there was, I think I’d just slow you down with a broken ankle.” Jackie smiled sadly. “I...I think we both know what’s got to happen.”

“No!” Laurens immediately protested. “I’m not leaving you behind!”

“Well it’s better than him coming back to see you walking around and locking you up again or worse!” Jackie suddenly snapped. “Look, you can come back if you want, but your time frame here is very, very limited!” He leaned closer, grabbing Laurens’s unbroken arm. “Think about the bigger picture. Anti’s going to keep on doing what he’s doing. Someone has to stop him, but only three people even know he exists. Two are in this fucking basement and the other one is in a mental hospital. You have to do something about it! Don’t—” His voice cracked. “Don’t stay here and focus on one person when we could be saving who knows how many more.”

Laurens stared at him silently. She didn’t want to...but...he had a point. After a long moment, she suddenly wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. She heard him gasp at the sudden contact, and then he absolutely melted. The hug lasted only a few seconds; she didn’t want to risk any longer, even if she wanted to. “I’m going to the police,” she said. “And I’ll come back to get you. If I have to scream my head off at the station, I will.”

Jackie blinked furiously. “Y-yeah...you do that. Good luck.”

Laurens nodded, standing back up. Looking around the room, she considered her options. She could go find stairs up and try to sneak out the front door, but Anti was probably there...her eyes landed on the small folding table shoved in the corner. She quickly crossed over there, pushing an empty orange crate out of the way with her foot, and slowly, awkwardly pulled the table over to underneath the basement window. By the time it was there, she was panting, tears dripping from her eyes since she’d had to use her broken arm to pull it. But she wasn’t done yet. She climbed on top, wobbling up to a standing position. Gripping the windowsill with both hands, she looked at the window. With her good arm, she slid the window open, gasping as the sudden shift of position required caused her dislocated wrist to flare up. But the window was open. Thank god she wasn’t a large person.

She glanced back at Jackie. “I’ll see you,” she whispered, not daring to say goodbye.

“See you,” Jackie responded with a small wave.

Laurens nodded, and hoisted herself upward. Wriggling through the window, she clawed at the ground outside and managed to pull herself out. She didn’t bother to close the window behind her. Breathing heavily, she stood up, and looked around. The window was on the back of the house, and she was now standing in a tiny, weed-ridden yard. She rounded the house to the front, finding the street and the sidewalk.

She didn’t recognize this part of town. But she could find out where it was. Glancing back, she noted the number embossed on the house’s front door. 860...now she just needed a street number. And to figure out where the police station was in relation to this.

Taking a deep breath, Laurens reached the sidewalk and broke out into a run.

——————

Someone was pressing the button to contact the intercom inside JJ’s apartment. Chase swore, looking over at the intercom system connected to the living room’s wall. “Jays, hold on, I think that’s him,” Chase muttered.

JJ nodded. As Chase stood up from the couch, he pulled his legs up onto the sofa cushions, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms. Chase glanced back at him before pressing the intercom button. “Marvin?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Marvin’s voice came through with barely a crackle; the apartment building’s intercom system was really high quality. “Buzz me in!”

“Got it,” Chase said, pressing the button. He hurried back to the sofa to sit next to JJ again. “See, he’s coming. It’s all gonna work out.” He reached out, but stopped just before making contact with JJ. “Is...is touching okay?”

JJ didn’t look up as he signed, Just a little bit. Be careful.

Chase nodded understandingly, and started gently rubbing circles on Jameson’s back. He was on high alert, looking for any sign that JJ wanted him to stop.

Soon, frantic knocking came from the front door. Chase stood up again, and walked over to open the door. Marvin burst inside, practically knocking him over. “Sorry,” Marvin said absentmindedly. His eyes landed on Jameson, and he rushed over. “H-hey I’m here. Are—are you okay? Chase just said you had something to tell us a-and were all freaking out about it—are you okay?”

JJ looked up. He gestured for the two of them to sit down. They did so, with Chase sitting on the couch next to him and Marvin pushing a nearby armchair closer. For a moment, he just stared at the two of them. His eyes were rimmed with red, and he was clearly breathing a little quicker than usual. I can’t keep this from you guys any longer, he signed, hands shaking. Especially now that it’s...involved with you.

“Involved with us?” Chase repeated, confused.

Jameson nodded. I never thought... he trailed off.

“Well...whatever it is, you can tell us about it,” Marvin said, his tone firm but supportive. “We...we won’t think any different of you.”

I don’t know if that’s why I didn’t tell you. JJ paused, considering it further. Actually, maybe it is. I wouldn’t want you to...think I’m...fragile. The word came out after careful consideration. But also, I just don’t like to talk about it. Only my therapist really knows the specifics.

Chase’s eyes widened a bit, but he didn’t say anything.

Jameson pressed a hand do his chest, taking deep, shaky breaths. You both know that I grew up in the foster system.

“Yes,” Marvin confirmed, nodding.

And that...that was because of the crash that killed my parents. I was seven. Jameson paused, looking down to take deep breaths again.

Chase scooted a bit closer. “You know you don’t have to say anything—”

I do! Jameson protested, head shooting back up. I do have to! Because he knows you!

Marvin gasped softly. “JJ, who’s this ‘he’?” He asked quietly.

Jameson straightened, stiffening his resolve. I’ve always told you, I didn’t get out of the system until I was sixteen. He paused, watching Chase and Marvin nod in unison. Well, didn’t it ever occur to you that you don’t age out of foster care until you’re eighteen?

Silence. Marvin’s jaw actually dropped. Chase covered his mouth. “I...didn’t think of that,” he said. “So you...you got adopted?”

Not exactly, Jameson said. For a moment, something flashed over his face, something sad and afraid. He almost looked like he wanted to stop. But he rushed out his next words, like ripping off a band-aid. His name is A-N-E-I-R-I-N.

Chase blinked. “An-air-in?” he asked, trying out the letters Jameson had signed.

“Or An-eye-rin,” Marvin muttered. “Aneirin...it’s a Celtic name.”

Mum was Irish, Jameson explained.

“What does that have to do with—” Marvin asked.

Chase held up a hand, silencing him. His eyes were very, very wide, and he gestured for Jameson to continue.

The crash killed our parents, but I wasn’t an only child, Jameson said. Aneirin is my older brother.

“Holy shit,” Marvin whispered. “A-and...he’s the reason you got out of foster care early?”

Jameson nodded, looking down. He’s two years older than me. When I was sixteen, he was eighteen, and he aged out. Three months after his birthday, he showed up and petitioned to be my guardian. He said he had a place that was a suitable environment for a teenager, and he had a steady source of income. The courts agreed, and I went to live with him.

Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Something went wrong, didn’t it?” he asked. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have been panicking earlier.”

There was a long moment of silence. Jameson took a few more deep breaths. I think he’s hurt your doctor friend Henrik.

“You...think?” Marvin asked. “No offense, but...why?”

Because of the time I went with Chase to visit Henrik, Jameson explained. He...didn’t like to see me. He started shrieking, asking me not to hurt him...and he almost called me a name that started with “An.”

“That’s what happened that day?” Marvin asked. “Ohhhh.” He paused. “But you don’t know he was about to say ‘Aneirin,’ do you?”

You’re right, he was probably about to say A-N-T-I, JJ said. That’s the name he gave himself. Preferred to be called it for a long time.

“That’s...kind of a dumb name,” Chase said.

JJ laughed a bit, a little chuckle.

“But,” Marvin persisted. “Would your brother really hurt Schn—”

He absolutely would, Jameson interrupted.

Marvin just stared, at a loss for words.

Jameson sighed, and looked down. He made a strange sign, then, rather like the letter A being twisted apart, before continuing with his sentence. It was obviously a name sign. Anti...is not a good person, he was saying. I know he didn’t start out that way. But something must’ve happened after the system separated us.

“Wait wait wait,” Chase said. “The foster system...separates siblings?”

A bitter sort of smile crossed Jameson’s face. Of course. Most families are only looking to foster or adopt one kid, after all. Aneirin and I were separated after a year. It was a hard sell to convince someone to foster a kid who couldn’t speak and a kid who had seizures, so they sent us to different homes.

“Dicks!” Chase exclaimed indignantly.

Yes, but that’s besides the point, Jameson said. The point is that while Anti was my guardian, I saw...he paused, then continued, more slowly. He had a lot of illegal activities under his belt. Mostly deals with local gangs in exchange for money—that was his main source of income, but sometimes he...he just...did things for reasons I still don’t understand. He looked down, blinking furiously to clear his eyes of tears. I’m afraid to say...that I helped with some of it.

Marvin bristled. “Well...it wasn’t your fault. I mean, if he’s your brother, and also your guardian, I-I can...I mean, in a situation like that, it’s...hard to have...a lot of choice in the matter.” He paused. “Am...am I saying this right?”

Jameson wiped away the tears that were now flowing. You’re saying it perfectly, Marvin. Thank you.

“Jays, I...I’m sorry, but there’s something I still don’t understand,” Chase said, coughing awkwardly. “Why Schneep? Just...why did Aneirin—Anti, whoever...why did he target him?”

Who knows? Maybe he was just in the wrong situation at the wrong time, Jameson mused. But whatever the reason, I think he’s now dragging you two into this as well.

“Why do you say that?” Marvin asked gently.

Anti...is very good at hiding, Jameson said. He often pretends to be someone else. Remember that movie night? You two were fighting because Chase saw Marvin at the hospital, but Marvin wasn’t there?

“Holy shit, I forgot about that!” Chase gasped. “Wait, was that—”

I can’t be sure, but...it does sound like something he would do, especially since he already looks a lot like our little group. Jameson went silent for a moment. Anti...he loves to have things—and people—under his control. Likes to look out for every little detail. He would visit the hospital just to see why Chase cares about who’s there.

Chase shot to his feet. “We gotta tell the police.”

Jameson looked up at him. Tell them what? That I think my brother, who I haven’t seen in three years, is actually the one who killed thirteen people, and not your friend whose fingerprints and DNA show up on multiple pieces of evidence? He shook his head. We have no proof.

“Well we have to do something!” Chase insisted. “If this guy is the one who’s done it, and not Schneep, we gotta clear his name! Is there anything we can do?”

Look out for a man who looks like us but with a scarred face and two different color eyes? Jameson suggested. That could work, but I told you, he’s really good at hiding. Scars can be concealed, and his green eye isn’t even real, it’s glass, so we don’t even have that going for us.

“Wait,” Marvin suddenly jumped in, eyes wide. “Does he have a green eye and a blue eye?”

Yes, JJ said. ...why?

“Oh, uh, just making sure. Cause like, our eyes are blue so I wanted to be clear.” Marvin smiled. 

JJ gave him a suspicious glance, but ultimately shrugged it off.

“Look, can we go to the police like, ‘hey this guy might be stalking us?’” Chase asked. “Can we get a restraining order, at the very least?”

Jameson shook his head. I don’t know. Maybe...maybe I’m not even right. He fell silent. And once again, he started wiping at his eyes. But a few tears trickled down anyway. I just—the thought that he might be—I don’t want—

Marvin stood up and took the space on the couch that Chase had vacated. He reached out, offering a hand to JJ. Jameson looked at it for a bit, then took the hand. Marvin smiled, squeezing tight and swinging their clasped hands. “Look, I’m...I’m sorry about...well, all of that, I guess. That your brother’s terrible. It...it must’ve really sucked. But you know what? You’re with us now. And we’re gonna make sure that he doesn’t come back. Okay?”

Chase deflated a bit, realizing he’d maybe jumped too far ahead. He sighed deeply. “Sorry about getting so worked up, I just...I don’t want my friends to be hurt.” He walked back to Jameson, sitting on the floor next to the two-person couch. “And you’re one of my friends, Jays. So whatever you want to do, whatever will keep you safe, we’ll do.” He smiled.

Jameson was fully crying now, signing thank you over and over again with his free hand. After a while, he pulled the other one away so he could sign fully. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, he said. I don’t know why, all I know is that, with today being the day it is, I suppose it was all a little closer.

“The day it is?” Marvin asked. “Do you...want to talk about that?”

Jameson looked down at his lap again. It’s October 10th...it’s Aneirin’s birthday. He would be...nice.

“Oh,” Marvin said softly.

“Well...it’s also three weeks until your birthday,” Chase pointed out.

A small smile crossed JJ’s face. That’s true.

“And this year, we’re gonna have a gigantic celebration. Whatever you want, bro, we’ll do it. Even if it’s something insane like skydiving.”

Don’t be ridiculous, Chase, Jameson signed, laughing.

Chase laughed as well. “Hey, you never know.”

Silence fell as the laughter died down. The window outside showed the orange sky of sunset. Do you...want us to stay for a while, or do you want to be alone? Marvin asked, signing.

Jameson’s expression cracked. Stay. Please.

Alright, then. Marvin nodded. Perhaps a distraction would be in order? Delivery pizza and a movie, maybe?

Yes, that sounds like a good idea, JJ agreed. I get to choose the movie.

“Of course you do,” Chase said, nodding firmly.

There wasn’t a lot of talking in the apartment that evening. After the movie, Marvin had to get home to check up on his pets, but he encouraged JJ to text him if he wanted to. Chase didn’t have anything to do, so he asked JJ if he wanted him to stay the night in the spare bedroom. Jameson had replied yes please, so that’s exactly what Chase did.

Perhaps everything weighed a little heavier on all of their hearts. But the night passed peacefully, and they slept, unaware of what the morning would bring.

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

Ahhh the hiatus is finally O-VER. & that’s the sweet smell of survival! ...or is that apple pie? 🤔

Let’s get down & dirty 🕳🐇

So real time when I watched the first scene with Bishop/McGee on the phone with Sloane/Gibbs, something Bishop said stuck out to me but I wasn’t *quite* sure what they might do with it until the Jimmy/Ziva autopsy scene. Now- let me paint you a picture: Nick confides in Jimmy that he has trouble with lost/missing kids because of this tough case undercover, right? Great, makes sense they bonded after paint night PLUS as Ziva confirmed for us - Jimmy is the team confidant, secret-keeper, etc. Which is all fine & dandy, very touching- yada, yada. NOW think back to that first scene- McGee answers Jack with a “he couldn’t stay here” but does so relatively quickly, semi-nonchalantly like maybe there’s some hesitation because he didn’t want to throw Torres under the bus for leaving, but honestly it seemed just casual to me. Ellie on the other hand, glances at McGee as she feels she’s about to spill beans and says “He’s got a thing about lost kids.” First- flashback to the original swan!Nick scene when she already knew before the rest of the team that was a thing. And second(!!) if this is such a big deal to Nick that he told someone like Jimmy in confidence but it wasn’t something he “talked about often” tell me- whyyyyy is he telling Ellie then too?!?! Exactly my freak out. Nick opens his heart & his deepest fears to Ellie, it’s fine & I’m crying.

^^y’all that was just one scene 🤦🏻‍♀️

I digress- swan!Nick was a sight to behold, I won’t lie. The motorcycle, the fierceness in his eyes, actions, everything- it was wonderful & that’s the tea. PLUS we got more backstory on Nick (see above), while it wasn’t much I don’t care, I’ll take what I can get. Aaaaaand in reference to swan!Nick, you cannot convince me Nick didn’t add a little something extra to his chokehold on Victor as payback for all that “apple pie” shit last ep- boy check yo-self, your jealousy is showing & I don’t hate it.

At first I didn’t love that Gibbs told Ellie to stay & she just listened, and ask @hellokaelyn I even tried to tell myself not to get annoyed because I had a strong feeling one of my predictions was going to come true & she’d still get to punch Victor (ask the Ellick gc- I called it. Well, at a different time in the ep, but still. I’m going with it). AND THEN we got that whole TSA drama scene and I actually screamed. Like legit, a loud shriek left my lips. Nick ready to beat a man, Ellie rushing in and getting 🎶haaaandsyyy🎶 - I mean literally, girl you felt the need to touch his shoulder, flip to your other hand and drag it across his arm to his chest AND place a hand on his back?? But actually who wouldn’t want to 🙈 Ok and then the eye contact. *swoon* Nick doesn’t look back to Victor ONCE after Ellie steps in aaaand he visibly calms down just by her touch & presence. The callback to their vulnerable talk after the paint night fight was just 😩 (insert headcanon that Nick promised Ellie he wouldn’t get into any more fights.) Then THEN we get Ellie telling Nick that Victor isn’t worth it... “not to you anyway” (which we’ve decided can go one of two ways- as a continuation of her sentence that the fallout of punching Victor won’t be worth it for Nick - my personal favorite, orrr that Ellie was saying she wasn’t “Apple Pie” to Victor, but maybe she is to Nick??) Regardless, the resulting punch was BAD. ASS. And that is when I screamed. Looooved seeing Ellie but her big brain aside & lead with her emotions 😭 Because then we got to see McGee: a mood. Smirking at Torres like- you’ve got it so bad, don’t you? And while we didn’t get to see Nick’s reaction, well...that’s what fics are made of, right? 😏

Ziva’s goodbyes: I’m sooo glad we got this scene, not just for the Ellick content but for the character arc in general- I’m really glad Ziva got a more proper send off/goodbye even though, my NCIS senses are tingling about the openness in which they ended this ep...that big 400th ep is looming & I just can’t help but wonder who may *pop* by 🤔 Anyways back to Ellick- Ziva calling Nick out again AND his growth. Going from straight denial to a smile & laugh that speaks volumes (yeah, yeah- I knew you wouldn’t leave without saying anything, I’m working on it), followed up by Ziva’s smirk that says she knows that he knows she’s right 🙌🏼🙌🏼 he better do something about it now. Then her goodbye to Ellie was perfect- the Odette thing is relatively in the open which is necessary for No Secrets 2020 & it was a big giant suck it to the Bishop haters 👊🏼😏. Ok plus the handshake between two strong female leads instead of a hug 👏🏼👏🏼 OH and I almost forgot, Ziva’s face when she said Nick let her win...that did not look like a face that believed what she just said was true. That was her version of, I’m aware of the lie you told, you wuss.

I THINK THATS IT. There’s tons of other thoughts on the episode, not Ellick related, but I’m gonna stop here before it becomes ridiculous 🙃😘

[nukagalreacts]

Companions react to Sole teleporting back to the Institute in the middle fo an argument part-Two!

Here is a super angsty part two! Hope you enjoy my lovely readers and requesters!

Piper: She was so excited when Sole finally acquired the only way to transport into the Institute and had waited, shaking with excitement and burning through a whole pack of cigarettes as she waited for Sole’s return. Instead Sole came back with a disheartened look and an aura of failure combined with sadness, Piper had immediately taken Sole into her arms and led them somewhere private as she waved off everyone else trying to ask questions. They had sat in Sole’s room in silence for what seemed like forever before Sole told Piper to break out a bottle of vodka because they were both going to need a drink for what they were about to tell them. After each of them downing a glass Sole fixed Piper with a stare that burned through her before blurting out that there Son Shaun was the head of the Institute. Piper about choked on her own spit before hurriedly taking another swig of vodka and lighting another cigarette with shaking hands. “Shit Sole you can’t be serious” Sole just reconfirmed the whole situation and made Piper swear to keep it a secret, she could tell everyone about everything else but just keep the bit about her Son under wraps till they were ready to come forward. 

Piper had kept her word as Sole continued to travel back and forth from the CommonWealth to the Institute, as time went on though Soe, started holding back information on the Institute. With this in mind, Piper started to get news from other sources that the Institute, in turn, was making a lot more appearances in certain areas, she realized with horror that Sole was becoming there information and selling them out slowly but surely. Confronting Sole about this was the worst feeling in the world, she finally had hope for humanity and it was crumbling in front of her. In the end, it wasn’t even an argument because Sole couldn’t deny what they were being accused of and knew they had betrayed everyone, but for them, there was no going back now. Within the blink of an eye Piper watched Sole disappear as they no doubt slunk back to the Institute to hide from the consequences of their actions, with new determination Piper went off to gather her allies and come up with a new plan to bring Sole and the Institute down, something she thought she would never have to say or do.           

Deacon: He was the one who had put all of his belief and trust in Sole, was the one who vouched for them from the get-go and had opened up about his own struggles and past life leading up to this. Sole had sympathized with him and the causes he fought for and was more than happy to become an agent for the Railroad, and together they had been helping escaped synths from the Institute. Everything was going good for a while and the last thing Deacon expected was for Sole to find out her long lost Son was the one pulling the strings of the whole Institute. Sole had expected to find Shaun still a young kid but was met with the uncomfortable and painful truth of him really being an old man clinging on to what little time he had left. Deacon did his best to comfort Sole, but this type of pain was something he had never experienced, finding out you couldn’t have kids with the person you loved was one thing, but finding out you missed out on your whole kids life and would only be round to watch them die and knowing they where the bad guy, that’s some different shit all together. Deacon also knew better than most how pain could lead to one’s own demise and denial of what’s really happened altogether, something he could see Sole heading towards, as they refused to accept that there was no saving Shaun and they needed to let go.

The constant struggle over this eventually led to an argument that destroyed their relationship in one sweeping blow. Deacon knew how hard this was for Sole but he was reminding them that the person Shaun was now, wasn’t their son anymore and if they really wanted to save him and set things right than they needed to destroy the institute and everything evil within it. Sole was was quick to cruelly remind him that he wouldn’t know anything about the pain of losing a child because he was never able to have any! Deacon flinched away from Sole so hard that if anyone had been watching the scene unfold you would think Sole had punched him in the stomach. “I’m sorry Deacon but I choose to be with my Son, and whatever life you thought we could have together it just wasn’t meant to be” and with that Sole teleported back to the Institute. Deacon felt the world crumble around him as he sank to the ground and started to cry everything he had ever wanted was taken away from him for a second time, but this time he wasn’t sure he would be able to pick himself back up again.        

Hancock: He would have followed Sole to the ends of the earth, and for now he was content following them around as they tried to locate there Son. After learning that Shaun was located somewhere within the Institute, he had a horrible feeling in the pit of his radiated stomach that things were about to get a lot worse. Once Sole had found a way to teleport to the Institute he had begged them to let him come with them, leaving out the part that he felt like he was going to lose them forever if he let them do this alone. Sole had shushed their worries with a kiss before disappearing, still he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread and it wouldn’t be until it was too late that he would learn just how right he had been. 

It has been almost a month since Sole had returned with the ill-fated news of what really became of Shaun, and Hancock still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact how fast he had lost Sole to the Institute. At the same time though he wasn’t surprised after all how could he expect Sole to choose him over there own child, even if said child was the leader of a group hell-bent on dominating what was left of the world and everyone on it. Sole even kept insisting that they weren't siding with the Institute, they just wanted to be there for there dying Son. Hancock didn’t bother though and he found himself constantly arguing with Sole, questioning who their loyalty really belongs to and if they were going to throw him and everyone else under the bus and betrays their friends just to have a few more days with a dying man. Sole had gotten so angry at him that they punched him before stomping off and teleporting back to the Institute, leaving Hancock to wonder if he had created his own self-fulfilling prophecy.    

  MacCready: Him and Sole were one and the same when it came to wanting to protect their kids at all costs, and after Sole had helped him find the needed cure for his son he was determined to help Sole anyway he could with un-swaying loyalty. That was before realizing the truth of what had become of Sole’s son if anything he assumed Shaun would be dead not the leader of the worst organization to ever terrorize the CommonWealth! He was at a loss of what to do, how was he supposed to convince Sole to destroy the whole Institute with their Son still inside. It was something he wouldn’t have even been able to do if the roles were reversed, but it was what needed to be done nonetheless. As Sole found out more and more about the Institute, Mac kept trying to push Sole to share information with the Minutemen or the Railroad so they could start figuring out a plan to bring this place down for good. Every time he brought it up Sole would come up with an excuse to avoid the reality of the situation, and MacCready would be lying if he said he wasn’t started to get pissed off. If Sole was going to abandon everyone to go side with the Institute than they needed to be upfront and honest about it, and stop lying to him and all of there other friends. 

Mac finally confronted Sole telling them I couldn’t keep playing both sides forever and they needed to choose, sparking outrage in Sole who yelled at him that it wasn’t that simple. He shook his head at them throwing his arms up in disbelief reminding them that their actions had consequences and right now they were doing a lot more harm than good. As much as Sole hated to admit it they knew Mac was right that it wasn’t fair, without even giving a response and not looking back Sole went back to the Institute, and that was the only answer Macready needed to be sure of Sole’s choice. He just wishes Sole had chosen differently, they had been through so much together and he thought Sole had really cared about him and his Son almost as much as Lucy had, but it turns out that hadn’t been the case at all.   

Valentine: Nick was the one who helped Sole from the start and the first one who had been there real chance of any hope of finding Shaun with his detective skills. When they had gotten to know each other more and Nick revealed that he had been a prototype of synth dumped into the garbage by the Institute Sole instantly knew they had no love for the Institute. They couldn’t wrap there mind around how someone could put someone’s memories into another body, give it feeling and then just discard them with no remorse. As time went on and Sole learned more about the Institute and the cruelness they possessed and spread all in the name of science the more they hated them, and finding out that they were the ones responsible for there son’s kidnaping installed a rage so fierce in them that they vowed to destroy the Institute given the chance. 

Fate was a twisted thing though and Nick hadn’t been prepared when Sole came back bearing the news that the baby he was trying to help Sole find was an old man Leading the Institute. Sole had cried for days over what to do because they weren’t about to just kill their son, even if they didn’t have that much time left to live anyways. The worst past for Nick though was learning Shaun had asked Sole to take up his place once he had passed away because deep down he knew Sole wouldn’t be able to refuse the only request there Son was ever able to be going to ask of them. That didn’t mean that Nick didn’t try to talk them out of it reminding them just how Much they had said they despised the Institute, Sole was convinced they could change it’s evil way’s though even though Nick kept insisting that it was deeply embedded in the Commonwealth as a place of horror and fear. Both of them would argue about it non-stop until one day Sole just had enough and before Nick even realized what they were doing they teleported back to the Institute leaving him to wish he had never found their son at all and that all of this was just some horrible nightmare.    

And there you have it folks once more thanks for reading and following me and supporting me in general to do this! Also thanks for the request I enjoyed typing it up-Much love from Ashley everyone :)   

[georgescatcafe]

teaser for upcoming fic

the rising chariot

intended publish date: friday, april 2, 2021 rating: t warning/s: none (subject to change) pairing/s: platonic dream team, karlnap genres/tags: percy jackson and the olympians au, friendship, angst status: wip, chapters 1-5 complete summary: Nick Pappas isn’t sure it’s normal for teenagers to be sent across the United States on a quest that could potentially kill them, but Nick has started to realize that everything he thought was normal is entirely false. George Davies doesn’t particularly want to spend three consecutive days with this new camper and that son of Hermes who snagged his win in Capture the Flag two weeks ago, but he knows he has to suck it up and go with them, no matter how irritating they may be. Clay Bryce just wants to prove himself and show that he’s more than that troublesome kid from Cabin Eleven, but even as the leader of this quest, he’s not sure how to when Nick has fire powers and George is practically capable of mind-control.

Yet what they feel and want will mean nothing if they don’t complete their quest. When a petty feud between gods has Apollo threatening to take the Sun from the sky, the three must head out to stop him, but not just that—they’re in a race against an ancient enemy of the god, one who definitely will try and kill him if it gets to Apollo first.  notes: feel free to put your feelings about this in the replies or tags (if you reblog it)!! i’ve worked really hard on this and i want people to like it so tell me if there’s anything you don’t like or really like!! :] ok to rb? sure! free advertisement babey

Despite what the papers said, Nick didn’t mean to burn down his school. The only reason he wasn’t going to prison was because no one died and the police couldn’t find any solid evidence that it was his fault. That is, other than the fact that when the building stopped burning, there was just him standing in its charred remains, not a single hair on his head harmed. But seriously, he didn’t mean to burn down his school. Yeah, he hated sitting through English as much as the next kid, but he didn’t hate it enough to commit arson.

Not to mention he was turning sixteen in three days. Why would he actively try and get into trouble three days before his birthday?

But that wasn’t really a new problem. The burning, that is. Maybe on a grander scale this time—he’d never burnt down a whole building before—but he’d always had an unlucky relationship with fire. Or, his mom would call it lucky, if you overlooked the whole I burn everything I touch thing. She used to just laugh at the soot sprinkled across the living room carpet and run her fingers through his hair, telling him to only play with fire if he knows he won’t get burned. (And he’s never gotten burned.)

The last time he saw her, she was staring at him through the back window of a police car.

After that, it was like she was never there. Nick still thought about her, though, when his stepdad, a rigid, heavyset man, kissed his new wife on the cheek and patted Nick on the head like he’s still five and not fifteen-and-eleven-months, and he thought about her when it was his turn to stare at his family through the back window of a police car.

It was just a single policeman, polite and unassuming as he explained the full situation to Nick’s parents, and his parents just wanted to get this out of the way, so when the cop told Nick to get in the car, they didn’t protest, and Nick took his seat, the window cool under his palms as he watched his stepdad and stepmom get smaller and smaller.

“I really didn’t mean to do it,” Nick finally said, turning back to the officer.

“I know, son,” the cop in the front seat replied.

“Then why are you taking me?” he asked.

The cop didn’t reply.

Nick turned back to the window, watching building after building pass by. He tried to read some of the signs, but the letters got all jumbled up, and eventually, he just sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on the window, pretending that the vibrations of it didn’t bother him. By the time he bothered sitting up again, the bustling city had disappeared and field after field stretched endlessly around them. Nick curled a hand around the seatbelt pressing into his chest.

“Where are we going?”

Again, the cop didn’t reply.

Nick tugged at the seatbelt. “Can I not ask questions anymore?” He tried to open the door, but it was pointless. The thing was locked, and every time he tried to undo the lock, it would pop right back into place. NIck turned back to the cop. “Look, man, I really didn’t mean to do it, and if you believe me, that’s great, so I don’t know why you still want me here. If you just let me go home—”

“That’s enough, Nick Pappas,” the cop finally snapped, and Nick’s eyes widened at the sound. His voice was raspy, and he pronounced his ‘s’s weird. “Be a good kid and sit quietly.”

“I just want to know where you’re taking me!” Nick banged his fist on the window, only wincing for the shortest second when it sent a tingle back up his arm.

“I said enough!” And then the car was veering off the road, Nick was flung into the window, seatbelt digging painfully into his chest and waist, ears ringing from hitting his head on the glass, and the cop was twisting out of his seat, stretching out over him, hat falling aside to reveal long hair, lips parting to reveal sharp, glistening fangs.

Nick scrambled back as far as he could, seatbelt constricting his movements. “I don’t want trouble! What is wrong with you?” He kicked at the cop, letting out a strangled gasp when his foot met soft flesh and not hard muscle. “You’re not even a guy!”

“And you are no uselesssss mortal either!” the cop hissed, grinning even as its fangs pop, terrifying and fascinating all at—the cop sprung forward, and nope, just terrifying, not even close to fascinating.

Nick was never particularly flexible, but one time he heard about a bus flipping over with a kid inside it and the kid’s mom pushed the bus back over all on her own in some crazy fit of adrenaline. He had the hazy thought that something similar might be happening then as his foot makes contact with the cop’s face and the fangs dig into the sole of his shoe instead of his face. In the seconds he had to spare, Nick quickly undid his seatbelt, flailing as the cop grabbed at his shoe and pulled, throwing off his balance. The satisfaction of smacking it in the head was small in comparison to the fear that welled when he saw rage flicker in its eyes.

“I don’t even know what you are!” he choked out when the cop-not-cop made another pass at him. “Let me go!” With each word he aimed another kick at its head, but most of his kicks missed, and dread continued to fill him up as all his pathetic fighting did was enrage the thing.

“You ssssstupid boy!” the maybe-cop-probably-not seethed. “I am Sssssandra the Sssssupreme! One of the mossst powerful dracaena in the mortal world right now!”

The information meant nothing to Nick. He finally landed a kick on the center of her chest, sending her back into the front seat as he worked furiously at getting the door open. “Okay! And I’m Nick Pappas and you really don’t want to hurt me!”

“Oh, but I do!” Sandra hissed because that’s what she was doing, no way else to describe it. “Your death would be sssssplendid for me!”

“Not for me, though!” Nick argued, screeching when rough hands grabbed at his waist and fangs were once again in his line of sight. “Let me out!”

He banged against the door some more before turning back to the—what’d she say?— dracaena, heart pounding as nails dug into his waist and fangs filled his vision. He swallowed, wondering if it would be better or not to look death in the face before deciding it’d be worse, a lot worse, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Nick was mentally preparing himself for the end, when there was a muffled noise from outside the car, and then the shattering of glass. His eyes flew open even as shards of glass continued to rain down onto him and the snake lady from the window opposite them. And there, between all those sharp edges, stood a short ginger kid that, had Nick been in a better state of mind, he would remember from his classes. As it was, however, all he saw was his savior, holding a hammer tightly in his hands, cinnamon hair glowing in the fading sunlight, and eyes absolutely filled with terror.